Just say MO to Fury

Well it's nearly Christmas time and that must mean one thing: it's time for the old 'Sports Personality! That's a contradiction in terms!' joke. Done.

Except this year there's one candidate who, for reasons best known to himself, is very much a 'personality'. Chris Froome. I jest. Chris Froome looks like a face found on a EU-banned potato, but has less charisma. I meant, of course, Max Whitlock. He's a gymnast, but not the one who did the dancing competition on the telly. I'm sure he's got a terrific personality but I wouldn't know as I'm still not quite sure who he is. 

No the real lively folk are Lucy Bronze and Lizzie Armitstead. Lucy was like a left-back who scored a top-notch goal and then that other lass scored that quirky own-goal and English football confirmed what it always knew about itself - heroic, noble, unsuccessful.

Lizzie is good at riding a bike. And is full of personality. Then there's Greg and Mo and Jess, the 2012 triptych revisited. All lovely. The real problem is the big beardie boxer bloke with the preposterous name. Tyson Fury. A colourful character, isn't he? He could have his own comic strip, couldn't he?

And as with many men who have built a career on punching people in the face, a man who rarely engages his brain before he speaks. Which is not to say he doesn't think before he fists someone's nose. Indeed the way he masterminded the defeat of the untopplable Klitschko was impressive stuff. But this isn't about whether he's got ringcraft. It's whether a homophobe and misogynist should be on the list in the first place.

Now this is a tricky one. First of all, he does talk bollocks. That is without question. His mouth opens and it's like a bin being emptied into a dustcart. My biggest hope is that Klitschko wins the rematch by a knock-out, announces he's gay and then snarls at Fury's stricken body "The best place for an intolerant bastard is on his back."

Of course, since the issue has caused much fence-sitting at the BBC and condemnation from right-minded folk everywhere, Tyson has sought to clarify his remarks about womankind and the oft-noted link between Satanism and homosexuality. His first attempt was:"Tyson Fury loves everyone, Tyson Fury doesn't hate anyone". And Robbo Robson hates anyone who uses the third person when talking about themselves.

The second effort saw an eerie glint come across his eyes as he sought to enlighten folks as to the attractions of Jesus Christ. Now I'm no expert but I don't remember the parts of the New Testament where Jesus says "Shalt it not be okay to twatteth another in the mush for money?" Or the part where Christ beseeches Mary Magdalene to leave his feet alone get on her back but not before the slapper's made a decent brew.

Of course there is that bit when poor Jesus is in the wilderness and the Devil appears unto him and tempts him into sinfulness by introducing him to a lithe and well-toned Nubian homosexual named Maurice.

But I digress. The question is: Should Tyson Fury be on the list? And the answer to that is 'yes'. Should he be allowed to say stupid things? Yes. It's called Freedom Of Speech. People have fought very hard over the years to be permitted to say what they like; many of those striving for such opportunities have been and still are gay and/or female.

We should not tolerate his bilious garbage, we should challenge it, preferably during SPOTY. I'd love to see Clare Balding having a right old pop at him. "Sorry for being here Tyson, but I've been resting up for this conversation - on my back - while Satan cooed sweet nothings in my ear."

Ban him and he just dribbles off back under that bridge and where them stupid goats trip-trap over the river. And spout even more cack whenever he is moved to speak publicly.

My SPOTY would be Mo Farah. Unless the Salazar allegations get in the way, he's a shoo-in. My overseas personality of the year would be Louis Van Gaal. Now there's a bloke with charisma, personality and a great sense of humour. This week he surpassed himself with:

"We are better than last year."

Well maybe, but that's like saying a firm turd is better than a runny one. It's still, at the end of the day, shit. Now obviously being 4th and getting beaten by the might Boro in the League Cup is no great shame, unless it's cost you a quarter of a billion quid to get there. LVG resembles one of them dopey toffs on Grand Designs who has to dolefully admit that everything is costing way more than he ever thought possible, and that's just for the foundations.

He added: 'It was a tough group."

Really? PSV, Wolfsburg, CSKA. Well now you mention there's an almost overwhelming European pedigree amongst that lot isn't there? Every one of them awash with modern greats of the game like the Polish winger Ooji-watzhit and the Ghanaian wonderboy Thimgummi. I mean, puh-lease, Louise. That's a cushy first six games, mate.

And if it was a tricky group and they are a bit better than they were, Manchester United are certainly, more than anything else, as dull as this font. I've been more entertained by the movement of the hour hand on the town clock in Yarm. 

There are mutterings that Van Gaal might be coaxed towards the exit door while Carlo Ancelotti does his regular successful two-year stint and gets ditched with his dignity intact. What's for certain is that United need to get a bit more bloody lively. Failure's bad enough. Turgid failure's unforgiveable. 

Arsenal's failure didn't come to pass, of course. In fact underneath all that po-faced sobriety Arsene had just a twinkle of smugness. And Giroud, a man maligned for appearing to be Bendtner Mk II when he's far from it, took his chances well. 

Pellegrini had a smile on his face too, which is hard to tae when normally, even in victory, the bloke looks like he's just witnessed a fatal car-crash. And Mourinho was all humility and diffidence. Yeah, whatever. I'm sure there's some myopic match officials just waiting to undermine him on Monday night. 

Citeh and Arsenal should still be smiling by then. Villa can't possibly stop a team so burgeoning with confidence and Swansea, without a manager, could have an easier away-day than the Etihad. 

By then we should also have learnt that either Mo Farah has won SPOTY or an entire fraternity of British sportsmen are wandering around the streets of Belfast urging women to take Jesus into their hearts and fall on their backs with. 

Just say MO, people.