FOOTBALL'S highpoints of business activity may be sugar-coated by the term 'transfer window' but there's nothing transparent about them.

In fact, the only thing you can see through is the plastic smiles of the newly-signed and the blander than beige thought bubbles stapled onto the staged photos.

In a nutshell: I'm not a fan.

How can I be? I love football - it's a better soap opera than all the 7-9pm weekday shenanigans thrown together in a Queen Vic catfight (post-watershed special).

But the transfer window? It turns the season into a BBC2 fly-on-the-wall drama that thinks it's better than it is.

Players are treated like second-hand cars being traded by veritable Arthur Daly's through the tabloid gossip column forecourts.

Take William Gallas, for example, 'part exchanged' in the deal to finally dot the 'i's of Ashley Cole's oh-so drawnout move to Stamford Bridge.

The image of two kids haggling over a Top Trumps swap while their mums walk towards the door to call them in for tea springs to mind.

Pre-window life was fairer.

And more honest. The reactions you got when your star striker was being whisked away in a black cab to some new life anywhere but the place you called home - were real. Whether it was shock, anger or a smug satisfied delight, they were pretty much pure.

It kept everyone on their toes and there was nothing like a transfer to liven up a dull stretch of the season.

Oh and one crucial point - a transfer was a deal. A cash deal. And everyone knew what was going on in the marketplace.

The words 'undisclosed fee' had as much meaning as 'fashionable mullet'.

Which, to be honest, is about as much as they mean now.

People who prance around singing 'I've got a secret I can't tell, Promise to keep it Very well' are at the top of my list of those I'd like to see summarily dunked in the mire.

It's petulant, it's childish and it's a pain in the Arsenal.

What's the point in going to the trouble of getting in this big player who's going to make a difference to your squad - just as you'll tell the hungry fans - if you're not going to tell us what he was worth?

Managing prima donnas has got to be tough. And when you've got a dressing room full, they might not want to know kid superstar entering stage left is worth 12 million - 1.85 more than them, and probably on a salary to match.

But they'll find out anyway.

They always do.

The directors gave the thumbs up so they know, the agents took their cut and it will be there on the books come the end of the year for all to see.

But for now, they're going to strut around feeling special, looking through windows and wondering why there's mud on them.