A life in virtual football management (This Is My Joystick)

So, the latest instalment of Football Manager is out? The chance for football fans up and down the country to say goodbye to sleep, wives and girlfriends, and sleeping with said wives and girlfriends.

When a man hits his thirties sex becomes a very precious commodity. The chance to have some regular opportunities to jog horizontally with the woman he loves (or, at least, puts up with) is something no sane man would, or should, turn down. There, however, is a problem.

Football Manager removes all sanity from the male psyche. Football Manager (from here on in referred to as FM) brainwashes its fans into becoming zombie-like gamers, far removed from button bashing 360 and PS3 gamers, but no less fanatical.

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