'You're unfashionable all of a sudden. I was struggling to pay my mortgage, wondering what I was going to do'

We're midway through Franny Norton's life story, past the familiar tales of a tiny young Scouser underachieving at school, well on our way to a very serviceable career that encompassed nearly 2,000 winners and no little satisfaction at a job well done. It's a tale of forks in the road, chances taken and gratitude to whoever it is that decides if an impish Liverpudlian is going to end up in the dole queue or the hall of fame.

Then, all of a sudden, it becomes unclear whether our man is talking about his young self or a kindred spirit in a parallel universe, picking his way one more time through the bear traps of life as a working-class lad in a city that has an unforgiving side to its nature.

"You get a kid from a council estate, they want to ride a pony at a riding school, that's 20 quid for a lesson and they want to go three times a week to get up to speed, that's 60 quid a week and the mother's on her own with four kids. How's she going to afford 60 quid a week, every week?" he asks himself and us.