The women’s football ‘world cup’ is about to get underway, and I for one will be glued to my TV set.

ITV4 are re-running The Sweeney, Minder, and The Professionals.

The Dallas under-15s boys team must be a trifle gutted that the football equal pay row looks to be bearing fruit. Who’s fighting their corner for million-pound salaries? Not the so-called women footballers, that’s for sure.

Six years after administering a serious (on-pitch) dicking to the reigning women’s ‘world champions’, they are all likely earning a modest crust in offices and retail.

Which is exactly where the participants of the upcoming women’s ‘world cup’ ought to be.

As long as they keep on top of the washing and ironing, that is.

Of course, we say ‘football’, but it’s not really, is it? How far we have all sunk that the World Cup is now known as ‘the men’s World Cup?

Sorry, love. There is only one World Cup and one football. Putting on a cowboy outfit doesn’t make you a cowboy, darling.

But that’s not stopped the woeful wokies from shoehorning irrelevant pseudo-punditry from token slappers into every football broadcast.

They just can’t help it, can they?

It peaked last year, we were gaslighted that the English wait for a major football trophy had ended. Now, we have the slo-mo It’s a Knockout-with-a-ball nonsense in its own ‘world cup’.

Of should that be the ‘D-Cup’. I’m thinking D grade rather that the size of the tits participating in the farce.

Don’t get me wrong. If punters are happy to watch a lesbian headless chicken fest, that’s ok with me.

Let them set up a world make-up cup or whatever turns them on, but please not a made-up world cup…

Let’s save the plaudits for the real World Cup and footballing excellence.