There he sits, the ultimate in silver foxness .

He said he’d do it if his favourite team won the premiership title and despite our doubts to the contrary he’s kept his promise , reclining resplendently  in all his undressed glory upon our screens late one Saturday night on Auntie Beeb .

White boxer shorts pristine and ironed, emblazoned with his beloved Leicester city’s logo, he takes command of the Match of the day studio and reviews the days games whilst social media goes mad at how fit he looks for a man of his age and complaints are made that if he looks that good why isn’t he wearing something more budgie smuggler style to show off his damn fine rippling torso.

Debate rages as to what technically classes as a pair of pants with some feeling that the vast expanse of cotton were a bit of a copout but generally the stunt has gone down well and by half time he’s covered himself up in his usual tailored finery so they can get back to the job in hand and talk seriously about the sporting highlights of the day without his fellow pundits being distracted by his topless chest being on display.

And I would imagine ,just like back in the 80’s when model Nick Kamen stripped down to his undies in the launderette to wash his Levi 501’s, inspired by their latest outing on the small screen that many clothing retailers will find the demand for the cotton men’s undergarment goes through the roof this summer as the temperature continues rising thanks to national treasure Gary Lineker.

 For as my dear old Nan used to say you need something comfortable that lets your skin breathe around your nether regions in this hot weather so you can understand why a charming tailored pair of shorts was Helen Skelton’s  outfit of choice whilst covering the Olympics in Rio recently.

 Yet instead of being applauded for her practical and sartorial style she was ripped to shreds for daring to look like she’d “forgotten to put her trousers on” to report from the big sporting event of the year.

Ironic really considering some of those complaining about the size of her hot pants were probably berating what they thought was her fashion faux pas whilst wearing a similar if less chic version of it as they sat  sweltering in this heat we’ve been experiencing ourselves as they watched  her report on athletes wearing considerably less material than her.

 And as she* gasp*at one point happened to reveal a tiny glimpse of brassiere to the world it wasn’t as if she was relating to us all the latest sporting news topless like our favourite grey haired crisp stealer.

 So come on world get a life it’s the 21^st century now not strait laced times of the past, don’t tell women what they can or can’t wear while men are allowed to just wear whatever the hell they want whether they have a six pack or a giant beer belly.

Freedom means giving people the right to choose whatever feels right and comfortable for themselves be it shorts, boxers or burkini, bellow and demand that everyone must comply with one blinkered view of what is “normal” and you’re completely missing the point of that word actually defines.