Right. Let me get this straight. Barcelona went to the Metropolitano. Beat Atlético Madrid 2-1. Massive result. Title race wide open. Simeone furious. The whole stadium bouncing. And Lamine Yamal was angry.

Angry. After winning.

And Hansi Flick, a man who has managed Bayern Munich and the German national team, went in front of the cameras and said the lad would soon be in a "better mood." Like he was talking about a toddler who missed his afternoon nap.

Don't get me started.

In my day, if you won 2-1 away at one of the hardest grounds in Europe, you were singing on the bus home. You were buying the kit man a pint. You were phoning your mum. You were not sulking in the tunnel because, I don't know, someone didn't pass to you in the 73rd minute or you only got seven touches in the final third instead of nine.

But here we are. 2026. A teenager is one of the most gifted players on the planet, playing for one of the biggest clubs in history, and his manager has to do a little press conference explaining that his emotions got the better of him. Like a headteacher sending a note home. "Lamine had a difficult afternoon but we expect improvement after the Easter break."

That's the problem with modern football. These kids are wrapped in so much cotton wool they don't even know when they've had a good day. You've just beaten Atlético. At their place. Simeone is kicking water bottles. You've helped your team take a giant step towards the title. And you're fuming?

I managed a lad at Barrow in 2004 called Darren Fitch. Scored the winner in the Conference North play-off semi-final. Slid on his knees, ripped his shirt, nearly took out a steward. Got booked. Got fined. Didn't care. That was joy. Pure, unfiltered, couldn't-give-a-toss joy. Darren Fitch never needed his manager to explain his emotions to the Spanish press.

Now look. I'm not having a go at the kid. Yamal is 18 years old. He's extraordinary. He does things with a football that make you forget you're angry about everything else in the modern game. But that's exactly the point. When you're that good, and that young, and you've just won that kind of match, what on earth is there to be angry about?

Flick said it was "the emotion of the game." Fine. I'll accept that. Football is emotional. But there's a difference between emotion and petulance, and the fact that Flick felt the need to address it publicly tells you everything. He wasn't explaining it. He was managing it. He was doing PR for a teenager's mood.

That's what coaching is now. Half tactics, half therapy, half social media management. That's three halves. I know. That's the problem with modern football. There's too much of everything.

In my day, the post-match interview was thirty seconds. "Good result. Lads worked hard. On to Tuesday." Now it's a psychological profile. "He was angry but he'll be in a better mood." What's next? "Lamine's love language is words of affirmation and he responds well to positive reinforcement in the final third"?

I'll tell you what would have happened if I'd stormed off after a win when I was playing. My gaffer would have grabbed me by the collar and said, "What's the matter with you? We won. Act like it." And that would have been that. No press conference. No mood management. Just a clip round the ear and a reminder that football is supposed to be fun.

Yamal will be fine. He's too talented not to be. But somewhere along the way, someone needs to tap him on the shoulder and say, "Son. You just won 2-1 at the Metropolitano. Smile."

Or don't. What do I know. I'm just a bloke who once managed Barrow.