"Joey Barton is one of those characters that cannot be saved from himself. I know because I was asked to help save him."
The words are those of Harry Harris, the Daily Express's back page agony aunt and the latest to offer us an insight into the troubles life and times of the sinning Scouser.
I have to confess I have spent the best part of the last 48 hours trying to work out exactly what Harris is getting at. If he was asked to "save" Barton and turned the opportunity down, then the fact that Barton "cannot be saved from himself" is hardly the fault of the player.
Harris condemns Barton and his lifestyle and in the same breath reveals that he could have helped him - and refused. The impertinence is breathtaking.
Over in The Mirror, meanwhile, Stan Collymore was offering Barton a shoulder to cry on in a "Dear Joey, All the best Stan", letter. All comment superfluous, as they say.
Barton plainly needs help, in the same way that George Best, Jimmy Greaves, Tony Adams, Gazza, Paul Merson - and a few dozen journalists of my acquaintance - needed help.
What he doesn't need is a small army of two-faced hypocrites, masquerading as amateur psychologists, plumbing his psyche all over the tabloids.
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