Matt Prior

I'd be a hopeless sports coach. I don't just suspect that's the case, I fairly well know it, having spent a season 'managing' the Pear & Partridge FC, my local pub's football team, 20 years ago. Other than a notable 5-4 victory after being 4-0 down at half-time (local newspaper headline: 'Lovely Pear For Comeback Kings' - and yes, I wrote the match report), it wasn't a spell that had Arsène Wenger looking nervously over his shoulder.

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In partial mitigation, it wasn't unknown for the Pear's star striker to arrive for the match on a Sunday morning with a can of lager in his hand - whether still going strong from the night before or starting afresh that morning, I never quite knew. It wasn't the training or the tactics or team selection that bothered me - these were not high-stakes games - but the stress of watching and hoping. It found it unbearable.

I get the same feeling when I drop a vehicle in for its MOT test. Last week it was my motorcycle, but a couple of months ago it was my Audi A2. You can check a vehicle's MOT status online, so at some point during the hour or two my local garage had the car, the gov.uk website asked me to confirm I'm a human because I had refreshed the page so much to check up on the Audi that the system thought I was some kind of spambot.