Listen, nobody should ever say that I don't know my friends, my socios, my audience.

Some of you are preparing for a hard day of brain surgery.

Others are unmooring the yacht either at Sandy Lane or Dangurikwe.

Some of you are queuing at Greg's. I know. You send me pictures.

But above all, all of you are sitting there.

Having consumed, the admittedly wonderful content from theadale last night, chewing your nails and thinking,

when, when, oh when, will Gee be in touch with us again.

What's now?

My day doesn't consist of any kind of cranial openings or a veggie burger or a vast behind.

See what I did there?

I'm on mooring my metaphorical yacht by boarding a Velling flight back to Barcelona,

where instead of going to Bilbao to interview Nico Williams as was

scheduled last week, I've been diverted to a Lamin-Yemal interview about which, frankly, I'm thrilled

for stop. New paragraph. Lamine is somebody that I interviewed just over a year ago.

If I was nervous about it, I was working on all resources.

How does somebody of my age, my vintage, my background,

open up, communicate with a 16-year- old, a kid from a, by his admission, relatively bumpy background.

Somebody who, in theory, shouldn't have been all that confident, all that mature, all that articulate.

I worked on the gig with the mighty Tim Lee that you'll be able to see on the Liga television

and listen to commentating and Victor Gross, a friend of a long time who helped make

take the ball past the ball, the Presidente and no denies ni pouta idea, our documentary

with Luis Enrique Martinezz it is a cracking cameraman

...