Can it really be true that the sacking of a Premier League football manager has warranted so much attention and column inches over the past few days?

In a world ravaged by war and human tragedy, is it that important to hear every last detail about the demise of Manchester United’s David Moyes? Love it or hate it, football is big business and there’s no escaping it.

No one told me when I was handed my third boy back in October 2007 that I would have to become an expert on the workings of the football leagues. I guess I should have known. Despite encouraging all sorts of other sports, it would seem that my three boys, not unlike the majority of boys their age, are hard wired to memorise footballing statistics in way that I can barely comprehend.

If only times tables were memorised as well, we’d be surely raising a generation of maths geniuses. Being from a family of four girls and one boy myself, I had little knowledge of the beautiful game.

Football was barely watched and never discussed and I am ashamed to say that I’m still not quite sure I could explain the offside rule in it’s entirety if my life depended on it.

I realise that some girls enjoy football but it’s just that I was never one of those girls.

In my childhood, football was just an annoyance because the results held up my Saturday afternoon viewing of Jim’ll Fix It... oh the irony.

Nowadays, life is rather different. I decided a couple of years ago that my choice was to sink or swim when it came to football punditry and our family is a divided camp of Chelsea and Liverpool supporters.

Youngest child, despite eagerness for football, is still somewhat baffled by the inner workings of the league and is waiting for Barcelona to sweep the Premier League title. With four males obsessed with all things football, I decided I needed to get myself up to speed if I wanted to have any conversational topics to carry me through the next few years.

Living in a house swathed in Match Attacks stickers, I can’t open a drawer, lift a cushion or empty trouser pockets without the face of some obscure player for Hull City staring back at me; I’m sure we are the cause of the loss of a significant area of rainforest to print the things. Footie stickers have become a second currency; there is little my kids wouldn’t do for the promise of a shiny team sticker of Chelsea or a mug-shot of Luis Suarez. Any parent who has never resorted to bribery is either lying or has only girls. If I could I would buy shares in Match Attacks.

It wasn’t until I found myself sitting around a table in a beautiful restaurant in Morocco with my family and friends, singing Arsenal football chants, that I realised that my life has taken an unexpected turn.

My hopes have been dashed for long conversations discussing modern-day feminism and its impact on society.

Apparently, Aaron Ramsey is who its about and by all accounts: “He scores when he wants, he scores when he wants, Aaron Ramsey, he scores when he wants.” Hopefully the other guests in that peaceful Morrocan riad are as reassured as I was to discover this.

And so, as the race for the Premier reaches its climax, it looks like its a three-horse sprint. At time of writing, Liverpool are five points clear but with Chelsea and Manchester City in hot pursuit, things are getting tense in our house. Not least because I’m fairly sure that if I am forced to watch any more football matches, there’s a chance I’m going to implode. Try as I might to impress them with football one-liners I’ve heard on the radio, I always seem to get it just a little bit wrong in the way that an over-eager parent desperate to look cool in front of their kids often does.

Nothing knocks you down to earth quicker that the look of disdain from an eight-year-old after mispronouncing a player’s name or inadvertently cheering the wrong team. With the World Cup looming, it’s going to be a long summer ahead.

I guess the lesson here is stick to what you know, so it’s root canals and composite fillings all the way.

I wonder if David Moyes might be interested in a job as a dental nurse now that he is technically unemployed? I’m not coming to work in a football shirt though.