10. Arsenal

Whenever somebody mentions Arsenal I am moved to remember my great uncle Piers Wibble. 

He was a conceited bigot, he lied and cheated through life, had few friends and what he lacked in intelligence he more than made up for in mouth. He had no redeeming features whatsoever.

He lived on the Seven Sisters Road and was an Arsenal fan throughout his miserable life. His only pleasure was to dress up every weekend like he was on the Finance Department's Christmas Party, stand at Highbury and wave wads of £20 notes at opposition fans. 

His life ended predictably in a Gallows Dance, he went unmourned and his foetid carcass was disposed of in a sewer. 

He was however my great uncle and so for that reason alone I hope Arsenal spank whomever they happen to be playing today. 

9. Crystal Palace

Whenever anybody mentions Crystal Palace I fondly remember my great uncle Terence 'Tel-Boy' Wibble who lived his entire life in the nearby town of Croydon.

Unlike many of my other great uncles he led a rather unremarkable life.  He never achieved even his allotted fifteen minutes of fame. 
He was however a staunch Palace supporter, was kind to animals, loved his family, paid his bills and lived a generally happy life.  He had a visceral hatred of Brighton for some reason we could never fathom and he would never explain.

He was a regular in the Anerley Arms where he was very popular whilst remaining quiet and unassuming.  A true gentleman.

For that reason alone I hope Palace smash whatever team they happen to be playing today.

8. Real Madrid

Whenever somebody mentions Real Madrid I fondly remember my great uncle Enrique Velasquez de Vibbal.
He was born in Madrid and was a lifelong champion of social justice. He first found recognition as a child soldier on the Republican side in the Spanish Civil War.
Later he moved to France to fight the Nazis and was a key player in the French Resistance. He was celebrated after managing to capture an entire Panzer division single handed.
Upon the death of Franco he was able to end his long exile from the country he loved and retired to a modest apartment in Madrid.
Today the youth of Spain idolise him as a brave patriot and an inspiration for a new generation. Vibbal t-shirts outsell Che Guevara in Spain and the rallying cries of '¡Adelante Vibbal, no pasarán!' were heard all over Catalonia last summer.
Now a very old man, despite the adulation he maintains a private lifestyle, preferring to sit in the orange groves smoking his favourite hand-rolling tobacco.
For this reason alone I shall be joining my dear great uncle in supporting Real Madrid tonight against whoever they happen to be playing.

7. Newcastle United

Whenever somebody mentions Newcastle I fondly remember my Great Uncle Jordy 'why aye' Wibble who lived his entire life in the Byker area of that proud city. 

He was generally considered a 'bit of a Mackem heemasex' due to his propensity to wear a light jacket during a blizzard and the fact that he had to visit the toilet after only eight pints rather than the ten that real men can handle. The Geordies are an inclusive bunch and took him to their hearts however. 

What made him a local celebrity though was his cookery skills. He perfected a method of blending pease pudding with Newcastle Brown Ale, a concoction he brilliantly named 'Dog Pease'. He would make huge quantities and distribute small cartons to everyone he met. 

He died a local hero and every year on the anniversary of his death they hold the Byker Dog Pease party in his honour. It is for this reason alone that I hope Newcastle smash whatever team they face this weekend.

6. Stoke City

I have always had a soft spot for Stoke City ever since my Great Uncle Yianni Wibblopolous had a trial for them in the mid '70s. 

Sadly his Tzatziki was better than his tackling and he failed to become their first Greek superstar. 

He did however start a successful chain of takeaway restaurants' Kidsgrove Kebabs' and after years of hard work was able to retire to his home town of Archangelos a very wealthy man. 

So for that reason I hope they thrash whoever they are playing tonight.

5. Chelsea

Whenever anybody mentions Chelsea I remember my great uncle Sir Jarvis Cheyne-Wibble who lived just off the Kings Road in that borough. He proudly served his country in the Great War but remained modest about his award of the Victoria Cross and never boasted about his achievements.
After the war he took up sports and had a remarkable record. His name is on the wall at Lords to mark the century he scored against Australia. He won Wimbledon and was mentor to the great Fred Perry. On the football pitch he captained his local Chelsea side and won 85 England caps. He is said to be the inspiration for Roy of the Rovers.
Later in life he brought his incredible intellect to the world of politics. He was a pioneer; advocating public housing, educational reform, social inclusivity and the creation of a national health service.
He earned his knighthood for services to literature, truly a Renaissance man. After his death his memory is honoured by a modest bronze statue in Cadogan Square, the good burghers of Chelsea mark each anniversary of his death with floral tributes, the women wail and rend their garments, the men mark his memory by removing their hats and observing a moment of quiet contemplation.
For that reason alone I hope Chelsea smash whatever team they happen to be playing tomorrow.

4. Everton

Every time I think about Everton I remember my great uncle Illya Wibblovski who settled for a time in the Kirkdale area of Liverpool.
He had a thriving business making and selling special beetroot vodka and taught balalaika and Russian dancing in the evenings in the upstairs room of the Carisbrooke.
He always said he could get the trotskys off the local women as soon as they copped a look at the size of his bolsheviks.
He never gave a vladi vostock about the opposition, he was all for Everton.
He eventually returned to Dnepropetrovsk after the fall of the Berlin Wall and so back to civilisation.
So, without being volga, in memory of great uncle Illya I hope Everton stuff whoever they are playing today.

3. Huddersfield

Whenever someone mentions Huddersfield I always fondly remember my Great Uncle Jamal 'Hotlips' Al-Wibblah.
He lived in the Golcar area of the city.
Known as the 'Golcar Choker' he was a celebrated local jazz musician. He cemented his reputation in the seedier of the gay jazz clubs so popular in the city.
He was versatile. He played the sax, the flute, loved tromboning and was an expert on the pink oboe. He reckoned he could blow anything. It made him very popular.
He always used to say that jazz was a lot like backdoor shenanigans, you never understand it until you are older. As a young man I never understood his meaning.
He lived in comfort with his life partner Bill until he succumbed in a freak accident with a didgeridoo.
His life is celebrated annually at the Marsden Jazz Festival. The people adored him even in those less enlightened times.
And for that reason alone I hope Huddersfield Town smash the arses of whoever they happen to be playing this weekend.

2. Burnley

When I think of Burnley I always fondly remember my Great Uncle Cletus Wambles.
Born in Alabama, he crossed the pond on a tramp steamer and lived for a few years on the Stoops Estate. He was a proficient musician and brought great joy and entertainment to many, not only in Burnley but right up as far as Colne.
His banjo solos were incredible as an accident of birth had rendered him with seven fingers on each hand rather than what is more usual for the area, six.
Sadly he was caught using a cigarette lighter, offended by such devilry he was forced to move back to Hicksville Alabama by a baying mob wielding pitchforks and torches.
Nevertheless, his time in Burnley was a happy one and for that reason alone I hope they smash whatever team they are playing tomorrow.

1. West Ham United

Whenever anyone mentions West Ham I fondly remember my great uncle Jim 'The Scarf' Wibble.  He lived in the Manor Park area man and boy and was of course an avid West Ham supporter, never missing a game for 60 years.

He witnessed all the lows and lows of following the Irons but could be found at the Boleyn every week come rain or shine.

He had a colourful life, for a while he was considered the third Kray Twin.  He was a bit of a lad, could be a bit naughty but he was generally considered a 'diamond geezer' and loved by one and all.

Every Saturday night he could be found in the Ruskin Arms tinkling the ivories on the Old Joanna and generally having a right old knees-up.  He was proficient on piano and a gifted songwriter, indeed he was the inspiration for a young Chas Hodges.  Jim was later to decline Chas's offer to join his band reckoning a duo called Chas and Jim would never make it.

He made his fortune in buying and selling fruit amongst the many costermongers to be found in that area.  His cheery, cheeky, Cockney chappie persona was just a front for his deeply caring nature.  Whenever a hungry child would walk by his barrow he would throw them a piece of fruit, his familiar shout of ''ave a banana' was gradually adopted more widely in the markets and taverns of the area.

You could certainly hear Bow Bells from where he lived, in fact he used to say you'd be able to see them too if it wasn't for the 'ouses in between.

And for that reason alone I shall be supporting West Ham tomorrow no matter who they may be playing.