Iris

So, after nearly a month of waiting, the search for a new Albion manager is finally over, and we welcome Pepe Mel to the Hawthorns. Or rather, some of us welcome Pepe Mel to the Hawthorns. Because after a few pictures of his charming and voluptuous daughter Iris circulate around the Albion blogosphere, a large percentage of our fanbase suddenly seem a lot more keen to extend the hand of friendship to Ms Mel than her considerably less important dad. In the space of a day, it seems she's been invited out to every balti house within a ten mile radius of Smethwick, and offered a full guided tour of the metropolitan borough of Sandwell by more fat, middle-aged blokes than you can shake a maraca at.

Although she appears to have taken it all in good humour, I can't help but concur with one exasperated fan who tried to stem the tide with the wise comment, "STOP TWEETING IRIS MEL, YOU ABSOLUTE SEX CASES." There are plenty of things we need to concentrate on as our relegation dogfight continues, and as much as it pains me to say it, a twenty thousand strong mass-courtship ritual with the head coach's daughter is not on the list.

Still, having said that... Iris, if you do happen to Google your own name and land on this blip, the Vine's a pretty nice place for a pint of a Saturday afternoon. I hear they do a lovely tapas. Just saying.