There are plenty of pundits, bloggers and pub bores who need no second invitation to start prattling on about how commercialisation is killing football.

While I can understand the appeal of sentimentalising the good old days, when it was acceptable for players to down 12 pints of mild in the boozer after training, football stadiums were death traps and Ian Ormondroyd was a star striker for a top flight club, it is ultimately a pointless exercise as the Sky Sports-sponsored, prawn sandwich scoffing genie escaped the lamp years ago.

So, with this in mind, the Ealing (Road) Comedies column and podcast has taken the monumental decision to go for the ‘if you can’t beat them, join them’ approach to football financing by becoming a corporate sponsor.

What do you think we have gone for? The naming rights for Griffin Park, perhaps?

Imagine the Bees running out at the Ealing (Road) Comedies with Will Gore Stadium. That has a certain ring to it, I’m sure you’ll agree, but sadly the money needed for that kind of investment is somewhat out of our price range.

Instead, myself and fellow Ealing (Road) Comedian Stuart Amos have splashed out the princely sum of £25 to sponsor loan star Robbie Simpson’s away kit socks, and a wonderful honour it is too.

Imagine my excitement when I headed down to Bristol on Saturday to see the E(R)C-powered socks in act- ion, but then try and picture the dismay etched on my face when I realised Simpson was injured and his socks would be staying in the kit bag.

This sock-based disappointment was not the only frustrating thing about our trip to the West Country. Bristol Rovers’ Memorial Stadium ground is shared with the local rugby team and our six-fingered friends seemed to think they were playing with an oval ball, such were their rough house tactics.

The Brentford players survived various grievous assaults to create a number of presentable opportunities, only for a combination of poor finishing and superb goalkeeping from Mikkel Andersen to thwart us in the end.

On a separate issue, I’d just like to respond to some of the correspondence I’ve received from concerned readers about a couple of gags I made in my previous column at the expense of my dear old Gran.

I can assure you that she was not in the least bit offended by anything I wrote. As I stated last week, the old girl is as blind as a bat so she can’t read what I write about her, even if she wanted to.