I HAVE a suggestion for the Premier League. Referees should no longer blow a whistle to signal the end of a match. Instead, they should play those dramatic drum beats from Eastenders.

Seriously, the line between football and soap opera has become thinner than the gruel at Fratton Park. In fact, football is better than a soap opera because it is real. Apart from when they pretend to be injured to win a penalty – and even then the acting is better than on Hollyoaks.

EastEnders claims to be the soap that “everyone is talking about” but that is patently false. The only people I heard talking about a recent Whodunnit storyline to mark the show’s silver anniversary were BBC newsreaders, who appeared to have mistaken the term “news” for “fictional events filmed in a studio for the telly”.

In fact, the soap that everyone is really talking about is Westenders. Namely, the shenanigans of the everyday millionaires at Chelsea Football Club. Firstly we have Ashley Cole cheating on his wife Cheryl, the nation’s prettiest nightclub toilet attendant assaulter. Sorry, I mean the nation’s sweetheart.

But that is a mere sub-plot to the Shakespearean tragedy of John Terry and Wayne Bridge, the former best friends who have fallen out over a mutual interest in Francophilia. This love triangle resulted in so much high drama that it nearly broke the drum machine.

First, Mrs Terry took him back. “I’ve given it a lot of thought and had a quick shufty at the bank balance. I wanna give it anuvver go, treacle . . . ” Dum dum dum, dum de de dum.

Then Terry was dropped as England captain. “I’m a sorry JT. You disrespect the armband, you no longer mi capo . . . ” Dum dum dum, dum de de dum.