Douglas, got some early season notes here. I’ve always thought the modern game had a lot to do with psychology, and this season I’ve been taking the chance to apply that to my own performance. I think it’s important for managers to practice what they preach as they say. Still, it’s all in there, and I’ve had another thought about a title for the book. How about ‘Big Sam, a modern mind at work’?

Felix van Hofdkracht is one of the top psycho-ologists in the modern sporting world. For this season I’ve got him signed up to provide motivation and insight for the whole Newcastle squad - and that includes the manager. For precisely 52 minutes, every 19 days I sit down with van Hofdkracht and tell him what’s on my mind. Based on that he’s able to help me understand exactly what’s going on inside; allowing me to turn things that may have been moments on inspiration into things I can repeat at will. Here’s an example from our session after the first game of the season.

“Zo” he says “Tell me about zis incident after the Bolton game”

“Well”, I reply from my place on the couch “I don’t really remember it, I just remember going to the old Fox and Whippet and getting bladdered on Black Dog Real Ale.”

“Ah yes, A return to your Youthful haunts”

“Could be, could be. They love me in Boton you know. I’m a legend. Soon as I turned up the barman locked the doors. You see he said he didn’t want anyone knowing I was there in case a crowd showed up, and he said he knew I’d drink enough to make it worth his while.

Anyway, I woke up the next morning, stark bollock naked in the Bolton training ground. I think I’d ended up vomiting in Sammy Lees’ filing cabinets.”

“OK, and Zis was during the night you zink?”

“Yeah. I’d got this video tape with me that I must have nicked from the security cameras. If you watch it you can see me marching up and down in the tactics room. I’m shouting ‘Four Three Three, FOUR THREE THREE’ a lot, then there’s me singing ‘who are ya?’ at a lifesize publicity shot of Gartside.

After that there’s a bit where I spend about half an hour trying to break down the door to the canteen with some five a side goal posts. I don’t know why, maybe I wanted some crisps.

Finally I end up knocking over the little subuteo figure we used for Diouf and shouting ‘Stand up, Stand up’ at it. Funny thing was that piece is dodgy, it never stands up.”

“Ah it is a symbol yes. The dodgy piece, the dodgy player”

“Wot? No not at all. It’s just knackered. Oh yeah, and the groundsman told me the next day that someone had mowed ‘BIG SAM WOZ HERE’ into the pitch with the ride-around lawn mower. He’s a good chap though, so he covered it up by turning it into ‘Big Samwichoz here’ and telling the stadium manager it was some innovative marketing for the catering facilities.”

“And how does zis leave you feeling?”

“Well, in all honesty I’m rather disappointed. I feel empty, and rather regretful.”

“Ah yes. You feel you have let yourself down no? You have failed to maintain your professionalism even under ze intense emotional pressure of a return to your old home yes?”

“No. I think I’m disappointed because I can’t remember any of it. I’ve been wanting to do those things since I left, and when I finally go through with it I’m too pissed to remember.”

It’s those kind of insights that let you build on a good performance, and turn something brilliant, but essentially instinctive into a professional job. Next season for Bolton away I’ll be taking along a set of bolt cutters, two incontinent german shepherds and some weedkiller for writing on the pitch. Plus I’ll make sure I’ve got one of the lads along to video it for me. No sense doing things by halves.