Though of course, there's nothing wrong with that, and after all, faith in football has a long and proud history. For instance, I used to play eleven-a-side with a mate who would share many different variations of religious tongue, without fail, upon every misplaced pass.*

Recently, we've seen AC Milan's Kaka reveal his belonging to Jesus in front of a global audience of millions. (My t-shirt would state "I belong to my missus", especially when she dropkicks me in the small of the back when I try and sneak down the boozer having not finished the hoovering.)

Elsewhere, PSV's keeper Huerelho Gomes looked skyward for divine interview during the club's UEFA Cup penalty shoot-out with Spurs, though even he couldn't have expected his prayers to have been answered so quickly as the distant figure of Pascal Chimbonda shuffled towards him.

And then there's the peculiar case of Brian McBride, who crosses himself after every goal. But whilst in the midst of this celebration against Everton reckoned without the kangarooing of three of his teammates who leapt into him almost causing a nasty arm injury, and certainly ruining his chances of ever deputising for Kasey Keller between the sticks.