Here's my list of media johnnies that completely do my head in:
1 Clickbait Merchants
For goodness' sake, being a sports journalist should be one of the greatest, most fun jobs in the world. It's not about creating revenue for some behemoth of a corporation or some media mogul living on a yacht in the Mediterranean. Grow some cojones and create some meaningful, truthful football reporting or else go do some useful work to help the community, like clearing drains or emptying recycling bins..
2 Red Shirt A*se Lickers
All graduates from the school of crawling. When one of these three clubs says 'Jump' the answer isn't a questioning 'Why?' but always 'How high, sir?'. Craven lickspittles, all adherents to the view expressed to me some 15 years ago by a respected footy journalist I had correspondence with regarding his paper's false estimations of City fans anticipated behaviour ahead of the 2008 derby at Old Trafford. In his e-mail reply to my complaint, including the way the press soft-pedaled on criticism of United compared to City, he said 'If you think I or any journalist is going to take on Alex Ferguson and Man United, you've got another think coming - it would be professional suicide'. 'Lickspittles' indeed.
3 'Ethical' Herberts
The ones who stand outside the Etihad to breathlessly impart their latest 'scoop' on why City and our owners are (hint, hint..nudge, nudge) a bunch of crooks who should be given a good kicking before being thrown out of the game. A 'scoop', by the way, that always turns out to be what Private Fraser from 'Dad's Army' would describe as 'rowlocks'.. Oh and by the way (2), most of them throwing the mud have 'unusual' pasts themselves..
4 Blue Moaners
Shindler, Conn et al, who profess to have been City fans but who now disown their connections with us all, from the club ownership through the players to us supporters on the terraces. Who also refuse to accept that football has become an international game funded, yes, by immense wealth compared to yesteryear but still no different in principal from the days when Johnny Haynes became the first £100 per week (yes, that's £5200 per year..); with that principal being money begets success and is more likely to win you those trophies that will create and add to your club's 'Istry.. If you really loved the club, if it was truly in your life's blood and taken in with your mother's milk, nothing and no-one could ever break that tribal bond you claim to have had in the first place.
5 (..that's enough of lists, John.. go and have a lie down or chill out with a beer.. oh, all right then..)