Mark Hughes is staring at me. Mark Hughes always stares at me, although patently he hasn't the faintest idea who I am, where I'm from or what I'm doing here. He stared at me when he was manager of Wales and now he is staring at me as manager of Blackburn. I have just watched his Blackburn stumble against a Fulham who only realised there might be something on offer after 80 minutes. Mark Hughes has strolled into the press conference looking like exactly what he is: a man who's just seen his team throw away two points to a last-minute free-kick, conceded by the Premiership's clumsiest defender, Christopher Samba. Blackburn don't really have much time for the press, although their press stewards are lovely and one once took it upon herself to scour Ewood Park for a laptop lead after I'd forgotten mine: she found one too. In fact I suspect they enjoy not getting much press so they can moan about not getting much press. They're the only Premiership club to franchise their press relations to an outside agency. Tugay and Benni McCarthy had had stinkers and Hughes had withdrawn them early on. Was it, I asked, because he hadn't liked what he'd seen vis-a-vis those two players this afternoon? Then, he starts staring at me. I'd asked the question that way to give him the get-out that his galacticos had been injured. I was going to follow up by suggesting that playing at home against Fulham had not stirred the cockles of these two gifted players and it might be time for a reshuffle. After he's finished staring at me (never has the phrase "amused contempt" been quite so apposite), he goes for the gag: "Well yes, that's usually why you take people off". The room collapses with the sort of laughter Chris Rock usually gets. And before it's died down, he's taken the next question. I nod at him. He winks back.