The week's most abiding image was that of Con Houlihan, slouched and wild-haired, staring silently up at the old Irish Press building on Burgh Quay, stopping for a moment to pay homage to the establishment he refers to as his "house of dreams."

The enigmatic old Kerry sportswriter was the subject of a wonderful mini-feature directed by Tralee man Maurice Healy which was aired on RTE's books programme, Imprint. Healy is attempting to get funding to make a full documentary on Houlihan, who despite loathing the bright lights persistently draws reverential comments from the many followers of his work and those who simply happened upon him in some hostelry or other.

Paddy Downey, former GAA correspondent for The Irish Times, opined that Houlihan overshadows the finest sports writers in the English language and the documentary did touch upon its subject's basic philosophy on the oft-maligned practice ("to be grammatically correct and in some way original, in some way exciting").

His celebrated synopsis of Mikey Sheehy's audacious goal in the 1978 All-Ireland final, when he nonchalantly chipped Dublin goalkeeper Paddy Cullen, was also dwelt upon, with Houlihan's narrative accompanying the footage, colourful and warmly witty prose which works because it captured the sequence of events so succinctly, so memorably.

But the only way of truly knowing any writer is to read them and it was Houlihan's personality and his unique perspective on Dublin city that made the feature so illuminating and the prospect of a more complete version appealing.

Although he has wandered the city for decades now, he has retained a sonorous, beguiling Kerry voice, at once clipped and intimate, and for a man so evidently humorous and warm-hearted, there seemed to be a sadness to many of his utterances.

The much lamented disintegration of the Press group obviously affected him greatly, as much for the end of a lifestyle he adored as for the disappearance of the masthead from the news stalls.

Burgh Quay, he said, was his whole world, symbolising a simple, vibrant and limitless epoch which cannot be recreated. The end of the Irish Press, he notes, precipitated the decline of the entire area, with all his old drinking haunts inevitably downing their shutters for good.

"Mulligan's remains the one bright spot in a grey world," he breathes at one stage before being filmed sitting in the shadows at the bar, sipping a brandy and milk.

He remains, unapologetically, a country man who took to the city - Healey also unearthed footage of Houlihan working bog-land with his father at home in Castleisland - and it is this aspect of his personality which so intrigues.

He has made Dublin's Portobello his home for almost 20 years and regularly takes refuge along the banks of the canal, some solace for the absence of country side.

"I suppose Dublin is my wife now. And Kerry is my mistress," he nods at the end of the film, signing off with a brilliant old grin which was half resignation, half devilment. Lovely television in an otherwise humdrum week.

Already, the revisionism on the gospel according to Glenn has begun. Ousted English boss Glenn Hoddle and his controversial sidekick, Eileen Drewery, spoke at length about healing and reincarnation in a Channel 4 documentary.

"Thoughts are things, you know," pondered Glenn at one stage, eyes darting as though we might at any moment spot a thought hovering into view.

Thoughts are, undoubtedly, "things", but they are sometimes things best kept boxed, as Glenn found out to his cost. Hoddle and the Faith Healer was, surprisingly for Channel 4, little more than a PR exercise which did manage to convey the possibility that Hoddle's rationale has not orbited beyond redemption.

It also raised a number of pertinent issues relating to his last days as England manager when he was basically witch-hunted, with even Tony Blair throwing in his ha'penny worth.

Eileen Drewery made a valid point when she pointed out that half the world's population shared Hoddle's beliefs. He was basically shafted for ham-fistedly and crudely trying to articulate them. Sports minister Tony Banks appeared on TV at the time to slate Hoddle publicly.

"He shoulda phoned me," sighed Glenn, happily playing martyr. Thing is, he had a point. It was also revealed that quite a number of England players have continued using Drewery's healing service, including Tony Adams and Darren Anderton. A number of old boys-turned-managers are also of the faith. Lawrie McMenemy used to subscribe to a lady named Olga Stringfellow. Gerry Francis and Steve Coppell preach the word. Oh, and Kevin Keegan has also dabbled in the art. There may be trouble ahead.

But for now it's all sunshine. England were rampant at Wembley and Keegan was the toast, with even the normally stoic Martin Keown declaring that there "was something magical about the guy."

The guy himself was happy to allow that the past week was one of the best of his life, mainly because it afforded him the chance to work with quality footballers, which ought to endear him to his charges back in Fulham.

Meanwhile, Hoddle and Terry Venables were in the ITV studios to analyse their game. The main talking point was Paul Scholes and the fact that he handled the ball in scoring the second goal. The decade of national moral outrage which followed Maradona's "Hand of God" act was conveniently forgotten. On this occasion, it seemed as though a hand ball was little more than a harmless prank.

"The best thing about it is that the referee didn't see it," smiled Glen Hoddle, with a spiv of a smile for El Tel's benefit. Now there's a thought.