TELEVISION footage of Sylvester Stallone waving an Everton scarf set the mind racing - and not just on the amount of crow-black hair the 60-year-old Rocky revivalist had atop his cranium.

I mean, if the main-man among sequels - I've lost count what the bloody number of the latest pugilist incarnation is, let alone his Rambo mini-series - has hitched his star to the Blues, then which other Hollywood luvvies should be getting their Oscars out for the lads at downtown Premiership clubs?

Who, indeed, should be chanting ere we go, ere we go' at other of our football - sorry, sarka' - clubs?

Well, besides Stallone's sudden affection for the Toffees - maybe that's what his next Balboa epic will be about, reviving a seaside rock-making factory - we have already been appraised that Kevin Costner is an aficionado of Arsenal.

However, to have Costner as your celebrity Hollywood fan is as dull as The Bodyguard' movie. The mercury-fluent way Arsenal play, they'd be better served by Johnny Depp. The Gunners are similarly full of panache and flair and when the rough stuff hits the fan they generally bleat with more of a trill than Captain Jack Sparrow.

Discounting celluloid stars no longer with us would rule out the obvious choice of the late John Wayne to mosey on down and corral the wagons at Old Trafford. But if it's bravado and swagger that Manchester United fans command then Al Pacino is the man. Dangerous, threatening, never one to relinquish the prize, he and United have left many an opponent suffering Dog Day Afternoons and recruited many a player after offers they could not refuse.

Oh aye, if Pacino declines the role, then United could turn closer to home and get Corrie's Kevin Webster. If anyone's a dead ringer for Gary Neville, then it's the Street's garage-man.

What about Chelsea then? Well, manager Jose Mourinho might consider himself too much of an icon to be usurped by a mere Hollywood interloper. But ruling all bosses out, including those of a special nature, then the Blues' choice is a split between Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise. Both relatively new kids on the block with early success going to their heads only to find other forces intruding on their fragile dominance.

What of my own club, Liverpool? That honour has got to go to Robert De Niro.

Once the undisputed number one, now a bull that has lost his rage. More recently saddled by duff encounters with The Fockers - hello, El Hadji Diouf. But the red rag does occasionally flutter suggesting former glories may return.

Finally, there's only one place for Will Ferrell and that's got to be St James' Park. Newcastle United are always good for a laugh.