It's as integral a part of Saturday morning as a thudding head, a sick stomach and a rogue bowel. The weekend just wouldn't be the same without it. In fact, in a television world that is evolving at a rate of knots before our very eyes, Football Focus is a bit of a comfort blanket.
Sceptics, mostly women it must be said, might struggle to see the appeal of what is basically a couple of middle-aged blokes sounding off about soccer. But it's the constancy of the thing.
No one in a tender morning state needs shocks and Football Focus has reassuringly chugged like a reliable Volvo car through the generations. Chugged, though, in a pretty high gear mind, and the Beeb have had the good sense to keep tampering to a minimum.
This weekend the formula of midweek highlights and "that's right Brian" features were all there, as was the rabbit between Ray Stubbs and Mark Lawrenson.
You're never quite sure if the digs between Stubbs and Lawro are the digs of good mates or two fellows who'd like to kick the hell out of each other if the cameras would just turn away for a minute. There's a bit of an edge to Stubbs's "you miserable git" jibes and Lawrenson has perfected that look of weary-eyed disdain in response.
It's such idle questions that allow a heroically hungover audience to ease back to the world of the living but, however, the host's tangling was at a minimum this weekend as football collectively slapped itself on the back on having avoided a players' strike next weekend.
"Well done Gordon," beamed Stubbs at Gordon Taylor, the Professional Footballers Association chief executive, who assured everyone a situation where the likes of David Beckham might end up traipsing up and down outside Old Trafford looking for more money is unlikely to arise again.
Everything was chummingly great, except of course if you were the Chelsea chairman Ken Bates who had another form of chumminess ascribed to him by Taylor's murmur of "Master Bates". Taylor and Bates clearly won't be sending Christmas cards to each other. Nor will Lawrenson.
"If Ken Bates is having a go at you, it means you're doing it right," declared Lawro.
The subject for discussion then moved to Shay Given. There's not a lot to say about Shay Given. He's a good goalkeeper, he's the spit of his Newcastle understudy Steve Harper, and he's looking forward to the World Cup.
"Has it sunk in yet, Shay?"
"Och, it probably has: Ahm, I don't know, maybe it hasn't."
No, as Lawro and Alan Hansen know, for a bit of character, you've got to go to an ex-pro. Phil Thompson may be in charge at Anfield while Gerard Houllier recuperates, and so has to give some thought to what he says, but he still isn't going to take any crap from anyone.
"What do you say to those who call Liverpool defensive, Phil?" asked Hansen on a trip back to his former club. "Scandalous!" You got the feeling Phil wanted to say more, maybe even throw in a few words beginning with "f", but Hansen tried to mollify him. "You do get people behind the ball . . ."
"When we were playing we were told we were robots, machines!" Phil roared. "We were told we had no flair. Don't be telling me what we had in those days wasn't fantastic. People just want to criticise."
It wasn't hard to see who was rough and who was ready in the famed Thompson-Hansen central defence of the 1970s. Hansen was rattled and moved on to praise the current central defence of Hyppia and Henchoz. "Are they as good as we were, Phil?" "Nah!"
And just like every winter Saturday from memory, the focus switched to rugby. Scotland versus the All-Blacks: Who might win that? Steve Rider tried to inject some suspense but the words "wind", "peeing" and "against" hung over his links like a doleful mist.
Still, there was always Bill McLaren who can shimmy through the English language with a fluency the Scottish back line can only dream about.
The memory still crackles with that description of a marauding Springbok: "Built, of course, like a bison!" That "of course" is the sort of genius the Scottish team could only dream about. Sure enough the home team huffed and puffed and even managed to keep New Zealand down to a few tries but effort is no substitute for class.
No wonder Bill has been elected to rugby's hall of fame. It's only the due of the tried and trusted, of course.
