THE exploits of Belford senior were something which entertained us during the last match of the season on Saturday.

With the utmost respect, Tyrell’s big brother didn’t look the fittest player on the pitch as he jogged onto the turf mid-way through the first-half.

Looking like someone who had responded to the cry of “Is there a goalkeeper in the house?”, Cameron Belford readied himself in the dug-out with the speed and application of a man whose services have been called upon rarely and one who has spent a lot of time sitting under a perspex roof rather than standing between the posts on the pitch.

But once he made it to this less-frequented position, boy did he make an impression: first touch, first penalty save. The stuff that dreams are made of and from which heroes are cast. He can’t be included in the player of the year competition, but surely this is one Cameron who has earned a vote this week.

“Fever” is not an adjective which has succeeded the word “election” much, if at all, over the past five weeks.

Similarly, the build-up to and anticipation of the play-offs has been similarly devoid of high-temperatures and excessive perspiration.

Today, both the play-offs and the general election kick-off. One is meant to reach a decisive outcome on the day, the other one is not.

We shall know for sure who will be headed for Wembley by next Monday night, but given the uncertainty over voting intentions we still might not know who will be stepping over the threshold into Downing Street.

Having defied the rule that sport and politics don’t mix, I shall continue with this alchemy-busting theme.

Thankfully, sport has been mercifully free of the sort of political influence we had in past; some of you will remember Margaret Thatcher’s hostility towards football fans which led to the ultimately ill-fated football membership scheme.

Whilst that was pretty odious stuff and not the sort of attention we would like to see again; it has now been replaced by nauseating feigned interest.

From Thatcher’s dislike we have moved – via Blair’s keep-uppy with Kevin Keegan - to the sycophantic embracing of premier league teams by our current crop of would be leaders.

David Cameron’s temporary allegiance-switch from Aston Villla to West Ham last week typified the way that politicos are desperate to be associated with the people’s game but don’t really understand or care about it (I passed Ashton Gate last week and shocked everyone at home that evening when I told them I was a Bristol City fan. Dave, it’s so easily done).

It was the arrival of the Premier League and the impression that football was moving up-market and could be seen as aspirational that piqued their interest - not the sharing of ordinary fans’ passion.

Many politicians want to be associated with the wealth and influence brought by the oligarchs and princes who put their roubles and dinars into clubs up and down the land, and fabricating an interest in the sport in which they are investing is a convenient way to do so.

What we can be sure of is that one Cameron will be on the opposition bench tonight, which bench his namesake will be sitting on for the next five years is much harder to call.