DWIGHT Yorke thinks Cristiano Ronaldo 'didn't oughta have done that'.

He thinks 'Fergie's gonna come lookin' for him', thinks 'he's gonna stroll right on in to the United dressing room, twirling them there pearl-handled pistols, give him an hour to get his sorry ass outta town or else teach him some manners'.

Yorke's been on the rough end of Mister Ferguson's 'law making' before now you see. He thinks the Portuguese kid's 'done gonna be mighty sorry he crossed Mister Ferguson'.

Bless Yorke's little cottons socks. I'm pretty sure Ronnie's going to get off scot free.

After Ronaldo got subbed last Sunday (because he's the best player at the club and Sir Alex wanted to preserve his energy) and flounced about disrespecting and swearing at his manager (the man who plucked him from Portugal as a relative unknown, made him into the best player in the world and has been in charge of the biggest club in the world for 23 years winning 24 trophies), someone from an English newspaper had the idea of ringing up former United striker Yorke to find out what he made of it.

Opinion

Yorke instinctively cringed and ducked (old habits die hard), then expressed the opinion that Fergie would give Ronaldo a talking to and show him who's boss.

What Yorke forgot is that Ronaldo is a gazillion times better than he was.

I'd love to see Ronaldo summoned to Fergie's office and his bronzed bottom spanked to a shade of plum.

But Ronaldo would just whip off his United kit by means of the easy-to-remove Velcro strips beloved of strip-tease artists everywhere to reveal an all-white strip beneath, fill in the date on the open plane ticket to Madrid that he keeps in a locket round his neck, and shout 'Adios!' as he shimmied and step-overed his way out of the door.

Fergie has stuck a farewell boot up some very famous backsides over the years but only the ones he thought he could replace.

Eric Cantona strutted and kung fu-kicked his way about United with impunity. Ronaldo will be allowed to prance and shirt-fling all he wants.

Whereas Spurs captain Ledley King, already allowed not to train all week, is probably not going to be allowed to get excruciatingly drunk and stay in a police cell every Saturday night.

The news that this is how he passed last weekend was more than a little shocking for me.

I'd always thought King was the footballing equivalent of a little lamb, only shier. I was almost as upset as my grandma when we told her that nice Gary Lineker was getting divorced.

Harry Redknapp was moved to ban Spurs players from drinking, and even to lambast the nation for not being able to enjoy themselves unless they've had a drink - which is odd, because when he was at West Ham, he lambasted foreign players for not having a drink and enjoying themselves.

Drink

Which reminds me that I actually don't think I'd like to be a professional footballer. Not because I want to be able to drink my own bodyweight, row with nightclub doormen, boast about how rich I am and wet myself while banged up in the local lock-up without it being on the front of all the newspapers.

But because I'd hate for a fun hobby to become a high-pressure job.

I'd hate to not be able to have a drink and enjoy myself during my 20s.

I'd hate to have my life controlled by my employer and only take holidays in June.

Not even, believe it or not (and you probably won't) for ?80,000 ($176,000) a week.