“Fix up. It’s not me who needs their GCSEs – it’s you!” These words were barked at my year 10 science class by our science teacher and form tutor, Miss T. And deservedly so, because we had just suffered the ignominy of collectively flunking a GCSE mock exam. All 30 of us.

Miss T was relatively young, but she was old-school in her approach – she had a low threshold for nonsense. While I considered this mock an inconsequential test – a pre-season friendly, if you will – she treated it like an FA Cup semi-final. To put it another way, it was half-time and we were losing badly, so she gave us the hairdryer treatment: a relentless, 15-minute tirade berating us for our lack of aptitude and our attitude.

I remember it vividly: “Fail to prepare, prepare to fail!” she yelled, so disappointed she had resorted to tried-and-tested cliche. “I’ve got my GCSEs, I’ve got my job. Fix up!” I was 14 and this was perhaps the last time my hair was dried, literally and figuratively.

Despite her best intentions though, we were emotionally immature teenagers, not professional athletes. To keep it frank like Lampard, I was initially affronted by her impassioned rant.........

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