Mike Ticher acknowledges that there are several ways in which to appreciate football. But if we concentrate too much on the view of professionals, we risk missing the point altogether

I was a bit shocked to find out I didn’t know how to watch football, despite years of practice. At least that was the impression I got from Jonathan Wilson’s excellent book on tactics, Inverting the Pyramid. Perhaps a better way to put it is that the book exposes the gulf between two ways of watching: the fan’s way, in which you care about the result and the entertainment; and the coach’s or analyst’s, in which you study patterns and work out what each team is trying to do. The book’s genius is that it successfully explains the second way of thinking to the first group of people.

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Allowing the biggest clubs to loan out their developing players could be distorting competition, says Simon Cotterill

The existing laws on player loans between Premier League clubs need urgent revision. In their present form they allow points to be bought and they are increasing the speed at which the league moves towards being a competition almost entirely devoid of, just that, competition. However, neither the bigger clubs, who use the loan system to farm out future stars, nor the smaller clubs, who use it to bolster their squads, see rule changes as being in their short-term interests. And sadly, the short-term seems to be as far as English football looks these days.

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Mick Collins observed the closing of the transfer window with unease and distaste, unlike Sky TV or others who stand to profit

The business of football is a complicated one, truly understood by only a special few. Unfortunately, those special few have more sense than to get involved, thus leaving it in the hands of opportunists and incompetents. There’s no longer a mystery about this, with winding-up orders and administrators long since letting light in on the game’s chaos. Even while it steams towards the financial buffers, however, stoking the engine with £50 notes, some of us still look for a defining moment.

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David Stubbs explains exactly how he feels about the west London club

As Chelsea thumped six goals first past West Brom and then, as disappointingly as life itself, did the same to Wigan, hideous memories danced in my mind as the overbearing boys in blue hugged each other wreathed in boorish smiles. Memories of Margaret Thatcher leaning triumphantly out of the window in 1987, of John Selwyn Gummer being congratulated by the Monster Raving Loony Party candidate in 1992, or of David Mellor gurning and grinning like the Squire’s fat son who has just won the garden fête raffle. Every Chelsea victory, I realised, feels like a Tory landslide. Two games in, six points, 12 goals, none conceded. Just rejoice at that news, just rejoice.

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