Mark Lightbourne's article about celebrity football fans got me thinking just how much impact the world of comedy has had on the game over the years.

I’m not talking about some of the inadequate jokers we see masquerading as players, I mean the guys who make their living making us laugh.

Let’s face it, Michael McIntyre’s affinity to Spurs and Rory McGrath's obsession with Arsenal are just part of a trend that dates back generations.

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The list of comedy-football affiliations is endless. But the most unlikely link of all has to be the fact that arguably the LEAST football-orientated comedian in the business, that all-too-camp Friday Night Project presenter Alan Carr, is rooted more firmly in the game than any of his contemporaries.

The gay gossip's father Graham was a Northampton Town first-teamer during their one and only season in the old First Division, 1965-66 – and later became Cobblers manager as well as bossing Blackpool.

But I’ll wager Carr senior earned just a fraction in those jobs of the income his son is raking in today. All of which poses an interesting question – does it take more talent to become a top-class footballer or a popular TV comedian?

The list of comedians with football ties is endless. They are everywhere - from Jasper Carrott (Birmingham City) and Frank Skinner (West Brom) in the Midlands, to Jimmy Tarbuck (Liverpool) and Leonard Rossiter (Everton) on Merseyside and Ant and Dec (Newcastle) and Roy Chubby Brown (Middlesbrough) in why-aye land.

But it's at West Ham where they seem to have the biggest laughter base of all with John Cleese, Phil Jupitus, Russell Brand, Simon Day, Richard Digance and Lee Hurst all said to be committed Hammers fans.

When I was a youngster in the 60s, I seem to remember that Fulham were the biggest joke in football – if only because Tommy Trinder was club chairman.

Trinder, famous for his catchphrase ‘’you lucky people’’, was by all accounts not the most amusing of characters in real life. The late Sir Bobby Robson could have vouched for that…it was Trinder who hired and fired the great man as manager just months after he had ended his illustrious playing career at Craven Cottage.

Perhaps the best-known of all comedy/football liaisons was Eric Morecambe’s love affair with Luton Town.

Shortly after becoming a director of the Hatters, arch-joker Eric briefly grew a rather sparse moustache consisting of just a couple of dozen hairs. ‘’It’s a football moustache,’’ he wisecracked. ‘’Eleven a side!".

What do you think of this article so far? ’’Rubbish,’’ did I hear you say?

The BBC still wheel out those classic Morecambe and Wise Christmas shows in which Eric would yell one-liners about Luton (not to mention his never-to-be forgotten ‘’Ar-sen-al!’’ sneeze!)

To old-timers like me, Morecambe still rules as my favourite comedian of all time – even if he is without doubt spinning in his grave at the current demise of his beloved club.

I can’t end this piece without a mention of my own club, Cardiff City – and our comedy connections. No, I’m not talking about Eric Morecambe’s good friend, Welsh comedian Stan Stennett (who was appearing with him on the night he died).

Neither am I alluding to our 46 years in the wilderness since we were last relegated from the top flight in 1963.

I was thinking more of our No.1 fan Neil Kinnock, actually. (Sorry Neil, I think you’re a great guy really. I mean, you have to be to support the Blooobirds...)

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