The sun is shining on the streets of Great Britain and life is good in the Dr Sparkles household. It would seem that the stress of the past few weeks is finally lifting and now it’s time to break out the Chanel sunglasses and the Veuve Clicquot and enjoy the sunshine.

Life in footballer-land isn’t necessarily so rosy though, and this week I am just concentrating on recent happenings. Themes are so last month sweeties… So sit back, relax and enjoy this week’s offering. And don’t forget, the sun might not be strong, but put on that sun protection. No one likes a melanoma…

1.       Off to Jail

Our first port of call is during visiting hours to a certain Mr Kevin Etuhu, who was sentenced to 8 months in jail for violent assault earlier this week. The Man City striker (slash right winger) who is currently on loan to Cardiff City (although news just in suggests that Etuhu has been dropped by City, so who knows where his career will go from now) was caught up in a little kerfuffle in a casino bar in Manchester. The problems continued outside the club where Etuhu punched a man and then kicked him several times in the head, breaking his jaw. Rico Richards, Etuhu’s friend (and lesser-known ex-footballer who once graced the scene at Altrincham FC) was also involved in the assault and too was jailed. 

This clip, from Greater Manchester Police CCTV, shows the horrific attack in full. Nasty stuff and not for the faint-hearted.

Dr Sparkles believes that footballers (or anyone) who behave in this kind of extreme aggressive manner should be punished, although she does wonder why punishments for some random acts of violence aren’t taken as seriously as others by the courts…

2.       Off to Specsavers

Not wanting to get too bogged down with violent assault, a lighter piece of news from Europe (ish) this week, where ex-Real Madrid legend and Spanish midfielder Guti rocked out some rather dapper purple glasses while at a Beşiktaş club dinner.

The purple framed specs seemed to be less for function and more for fashion, which led Dr Sparkles on a trawl of other footballers who have done the same. A move to appear more intelligent perhaps? Or a real case of myopia? You decide…

Who else, but Mr Fashionista himself, David Beckham, wearing glasses that are similar to those Guti sports, just a calmer hue…

West Brom's outfield superstar Paul Scharner rocking some red specs and looking pretty darn foxy as he does so. 

Ex-Barcelona defender Lilian Thuram proving that some footballers can look – or even be – intelligent…

1.       Off to JJB Sports

One prominent England player who has remained scarily absent from Dr Sparkles Worst Dressed List is a certain Mr Wayne Rooney. Perhaps Colleen has been styling him to ensure that he makes no sartorial faux-pas, but it would seem that when he is away from his doting and loyal wife he forgoes the Armani and Littlewoods designer brands and heads straight to JJB Sports.

The problem with this picture may not appear to be immediately obvious to those without Dr Sparkles keen fashion eye – but cropped trousers on a man are very rarely a good look. Rooney is sporting not only what could only be described in some circles as a tight capri pant but also what appears to be a knee high sock to complete the ensemble. Even JT looks embarrassed, and he has sported some shocking looks himself…

The man-capri is not a good look. On anyone. It would be hard for even the footballing fashion-greats of Beckham or Ljungberg to pull this look off, let alone a man who is borne of potato. Dr Sparkles believes that Colleen now has more than one reason to worry when her man is playing away from home…

It has been a long week in Doctor Sparkles Land recently and I must profusely apologise to you, my most darling of readers, for not being around to write much. As my twitter followers will have noticed, work doctoring around the globe has kept me extremely busy and I had a taste of my own medicine (quite literally) on Friday, when my face and eyes swelled up due to a severe allergic reaction. To what, I do not know. Hard work perhaps? In any case, I was prescribed strong antihistamines and donned my Chanel sunglasses until the swelling went down.

My gorgeous peepers are back to being fully functional now, and thankfully the allergy is not champagne or caviar related, so life pushes on. This week I have decided to write about footballer revelations. Enjoy, and until next week remember this – if your tongue swells, it’s time to hit A&E…

1.       Coming Out

Dr Sparkles is known for her light-hearted and fluffy tones for the most part, but the subject of homophobia in football is probably the one thing that will make her come across all serious. It is a sad fact that being a gay footballer means a life in the closet due to the fact that it is not, for the moment at least, de rigeur to come out.

So, when Swedish footballer Anton Hysén came out in a recent interview in Offside magazine it was a happy day.  It seems that Hysén was inspired to come out by a speech that his father, ex Liverpool defender Glenn Hysén, had given at Gay Pride 2007 in Stockholm.  Glenn had spoken about 'a 16-year-old who didn't want to come out because he feared what his team‑mates would think'. He was talking about his own son. Ironically, Hysén Senior had caused outrage in parts of the gay community when it was revealed that he was making a speech at Pride. This was due to an alleged-homophobic attack on another man in 2001, but Anton states that his Dad is anything but a homophobe and he encouraged his son to be brave enough to come out in a game where being gay still, sadly, is not accepted.

In order to raise the profile of homosexuality in the game the Utsiktens BK defender has also appeared on a TV programme entitled "Får även bögar spela fotboll?" (‘Can homosexuals Play Football Too?’) recently.

Dr Sparkles believes that this can only be a step in the right direction for the fight against homophobia in football (and encourages you to pop to www.footballvhomophobia.com  in order to read more about how you can join in and help with this fight) but would like to leave the final word to Hysén himself: “It is completely strange, isn't it? It's all fucked up. Where the hell are all the others? No one is coming out. I may not play in the top flight but I still want to show that it isn't such a big deal. I am a footballer – and I am gay. If I perform as a footballer, then I don't think it matters if I like boys or girls”

2.       Marriage & Babies

As much as she doesn’t want to go down that path herself again, there is nothing that Dr Sparkles loves more than a good wedding. Thankfully there are several WAG weddings on the horizon. And, sweeties, there is not anything hotter than a WAG wedding…

First up is Italian goalkeeper and all around greasy fox Gianluigi Buffon, who recently announced that he is marrying Czech model Alena Šeredová. It would appear that Alena kept her man waiting for a few days after the proposal before saying yes. Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen perhaps? Dr Sparkles isn’t a fan of dating gameplay as it is, but thinks that this is taking it way too far – the woman has already had 2 of the Juventus player’s children after all, and after that kind of commitment not saying yes for a few days just looks a little petty. But congrats nonetheless!

Next up attaching the old ball and chain is ex-Manchester United player and Uruguayan national Diego Forlán. His announced on Twitter that he was marrying Argentinian model/actress Zaira Nara came earlier this month, in a show of true celebrity class. The Atlético Madrid striker, who started a charity in order to promote safe driving after his sister was paralysed in a car accident. (http://fundacionalejandraforlan.org/somos.php) is bound to have the whole of Uruguay celebrating his big day. A national holiday in honour for them perhaps? Let’s hope so… 

Finally, a quick nod to the Beckhams, who recently announced that Victoria is pregnant with a much-longed for baby girl, if the scans are anything to be believed. Dr Sparkles cannot imagine a little girl who will be more spoiled with love than Miss Beckham and wishes them all the best. Let’s just hope that the genetic mix suits a female as well as it seems to with the boys of the Beckham clan…

3.       DIY SOS

Mr Stephen Ireland has graced Dr Sparkles pages due to his bad sartorial taste in the past, but these pictures reveal a lack of taste that has never been seen before. Dr Sparkles therefore needed the last revelation to be that the Newcastle attacking midfielder needs some help. Someone call any of the reality-TV based home improvement shows. Right now.

A sofa made of silver velvet and gold household accessories in the same room? One should not mix their metallics…

Nothing like a pool table with your own name on it to say ‘classy’. The Romeo-and-Juliet style fish tank in the background adds a special something to a room that would otherwise be lacking.

Saving the very best until last – it looks like Porn Barbie and Stephen have the very same boudoir designer. Dr Sparkles hopes that the Irish footballer isn’t prone to migraines…

Poolboy and I found ourselves staying overnight in London the day before we were eurostar-ing it to Bruges the week before last. As a Burnley fan I thought it was only fair to take Poolboy (and his London-based chum and employee of mine, Lawyer) along to the FA Cup game that they had against West Ham that evening – a payment in kind for him coming to Belgium with me (along with other payments, but of course. I’m not an unkind boss. Ask him, he’ll tell you. It’s a pleasure to be with Dr Sparkles)

I hadn’t been to Upton Park (confusingly known also as The Boleyn Ground) before, nor had I really ever ventured into the East End of London, so I was unsure what treats awaited me. Being an adorer of West Ham fan and all around cheeky-chappie Danny Dyer I knew that if all West Ham fans were like him I was in for a treat indeed…

Dusk in East London is an interesting experience for a doctor, nay a woman, who is used to the finer things in life. After a quick drop into a Ladbrokes (where I was the only female, not to mention the only person, in there who had seen the better side of a bar of Jo Malone soap in the past week) courtesy of Poolboy, it was time to make our way down Green Street towards the ground. Food was first on the agenda and I was hoping to relive the cheese hotdog experience of Watford the week prior. A stop at a hot food stall and a hotdog (of the non-cheese variety) filled to the brim with fried onions, mustard and ketchup (the only right and fashionable choice for sauces on a dog, darlings) in my hand I was ready.

The hotdog was not good. Or at least it was not as good as the legendary hotdog that I had in Watford. Thus far, the Watford experience was proving to be a better one…

A huge building rose into the darkness in front of me. Upton Park. Home of West Ham (for now. I shan’t go into where they probably are going in this article as I don’t want to anger the Hammer fans). Wow. It is a far bigger stadium than any I have been to in a while, and I was impressed. Unfortunately by spirits were dampened somewhat at that moment when Poolboy received a call from Lawyer saying that he couldn't attend the game. This worried me somewhat – I needed two men to protect me as Chauffeurs mafia connections had not come through for us this time and we would have to purchase our tickets like everyone else (shocking treatment of a wag, I know sweeties, I felt the pain). 

It would seem that my worry was to be uncalled for dear readers. On entering the ground I saw a sight that brought tears of joy to my eyes – the car park was full of rather beautiful (and terribly, terribly expensive) cars – it was like coming home. I knew at that point that if the top dogs at West Ham had such good taste (and so much money) that I would be in good hands during my time at Upton Park.

I wasn’t wrong.

Poolboy and I secured tickets directly behind the goal in The Sir Trevor Brooking Stand and had a great view of the Burnley goalkeepers warming up. The Beast was in particularly good form, bantering with fans from both West Ham and Burnley alike, and kicking balls into the faces of young boys who were giving him (as the East End boys put it) some mouth. It was a glorious sight to behold. 

Several other things were glorious about Upton Park. Firstly, their top-notch hot chocolate. Secondly, the fans. Yes sugarplums, the West Ham fans are a handsome bunch. Some of them need a de-chaving (light grey tracksuits to a football match darlings? Really?) and a little trip down to Pep Guardiola’s tailor, but on the whole there was a sea of hotness around me. Perhaps my penchant for Danny Dyer swayed me somewhat, but their cheeky faces and their dulcet East End tones did something for me. And that something was good.

Something else was different about this ground and these fans, in comparison to my fun time at Vicarage Road. The singing.  It started with haunting shouts of the word ‘Irons’ reverberating and echoing around the ground, from one fan to another until everyone was shouting it together in a beautiful display of solidarity and melded into more complex numbers… I have never heard such a plethora of interesting chants and songs in my life. Some a little distasteful (how on earth they could tell that poor girl had chlamydia from where they were sitting I do not know. I wouldn’t want to make that diagnosis without the correct medical test,) some amusing and some downright rude. But fun nonetheless. The one that made me smile the most was when they started to chant at the Burnley away fans ‘we pay your benefits’. I rolled my eyes to the heavens at that – with the amount of tax that I have to pay on my wages, it’s me who pays everyone’s benefits.

The game commenced. West Ham were shooting towards the goal in front of us and there was a buzz in the air as West Ham signing Thomas Hitzlsperger was making his debut (the warming presence of a top notch German footballer, who was introduced to the roaring 24488-strong crowd as ‘Der Hammer’, didn’t put off some of the Irons fans singing interesting songs about RAF bombers mind you. Tactful).

The first part of the first half was fairly uneventful, and West Ham and Burnley appeared to be evenly matched. That was until Der Hammer scored a blinding goal 28 minutes in. The West Ham fans stopped their teasing of (Fat?) Frank Lampard via song and started singing something about blowing bubbles. Said bubbles even appeared, which were very pretty indeed as they floated up into the chilly East London air.

Half time came and went with more interesting chants, more hot chocolate and a mild scuffle as some West Ham fans managed to throw something into the Burnley fans, sparking off a small amount of crowd trouble. It was cold, but the atmosphere was warm as the fans sung and danced around us. Personally, I thought that Burnley might get back into the game…

The second half proved me wrong. Carlton Cole scored at The Bobby Moore Stand end twice in as many minutes (at 48 and 50) with right-back Reid scoring his debut goal for the club and totting the score up to 4-0 to the home side on 59 minutes. The West Ham fans sung more, my favourites this time being ‘Carlton Cole’ to the tune of ’Gold’ by 80’s-greats Spandeau Ballet and the less-cerebral ‘let’s go fucking mental’ after the 3rd and 4th went in. I also find it hard to believe that all of Burnley is a caravan site, but if the chants were anything to go by, all the Burnley fans live caravans, so maybe it’s true? Poolboy subsequently told me this was their attempt at being humorous. Oh dear.

Burnley favourite J.Rod got one back for The Clarets on 70 minutes (a good goal not at all assisted by a mistake between Bridge and Green) but it was already all over. The last goal came at 90 minutes when Sears slotted one in to make it end 5-1 to West Ham. The fans, once more, started going fucking mental…

As we left the ground that cold, late Monday evening I was filled with a sense of happiness. Upton Park is a great ground (despite the poor hotdog offerings) and the fans made me feel very welcome. The fact that they were attractive didn’t go down to badly with me either. As with Vicarage Road, I feel I will be back, but more for the football and less for the food…