The lad Rooney has so much to learn - from me

There aren’t many similarities between Wayne Rooney and myself. I don’t have a partner called Colleen, for example. Nor do I bear more than a passing resemblance to Shrek. And I tend not to go for women who are two and a half times my age (I’m 51).

Where there is a resemblance, however, is on the football front. We both play passionate, committed football and we both have a top drawer that’s chock-full of some of the most outrageous footballing skills you’ll see this side of the Copacabana.

This occurred to me as I replayed in my head my first-half performance at the weekend. Like Alan Hansen, I have an almost photographic recall of every incident from every match I’ve ever played in, and in Sunday’s half-game I thought I gave a particularly delightful exposition of the footballing arts.

Forget the simple, short pass from Adrian that I couldn’t control. Ignore my failure to mark the attacker who went on to sneak behind the defence and score the opposition’s second goal. Put out of your mind that ridiculous half-lunge with my chest as I bore in on goal – an incident which, if handled with greater agility, might have produced a first goal for the Casuals.

No. Cast your mind back to a small vignette some 25 minutes into the game. Juan took the ball and passed out to me on the left. The right-back, a player of considerable experience, was bearing down on me. In the flick of an eyelid I executed a Cruyff turn, shimmied past my opponent, advanced five yards and laid the ball on to an admiring Andy Doyle.

I could have sworn I heard an involuntary “Ole” from Paul Sankey on the touchline.

So next time Manchester United are in London for a weekend game, don’t be surprised if you see a young man with troll-like features down at the Hawker, applauding the Casuals from the touchline. Off the pitch we may not have much in common, but there’s still a lot that we veterans can teach the superstars of tomorrow.