Wayne Rooney to Everton may not make sense but it sounds seductively real

It was interesting this week to see the fascination on social media with close-up clips of the celebrations after Tottenham’s 3-2 win at Leicester.

This stuff is very popular right now. The digital eye has detected a hunger out there, a shared sweet spot for footage of unbound emotion, feelings-porn: players and fans lost in the moment, Antonio Conte baying and leaping and glowering like a bear startled by a hornets’ nest.

In a more professional guise I should probably be talking here about how worrying this is, what a red flag it is to see people piling over the advert boards, uncontrolled “intruders” and so on. But that would be a lie, because it didn’t feel worrying. It felt great. Feed me more of this. Stick that spike in my arm and juice me up with Lucas Moura leaping on the back of a steward and waving at the crowd. These are feelings. And feelings are the good thing.

It seems as though something has clarified around this recently. There has for some time been a vague fear that this will stop happening, that this shared spectacle will become instead cold visual product, managed entertainment, that the feelings, which are essentially what we have left, will just stop happening. Little wonder when it goes off like that the reaction is visceral and moreish.

This is a roundabout way of getting on to the week’s most sensational story, the delicious prospect of Wayne Rooney becoming the next Everton manager. Rooney is currently the favourite for the job, which is in itself odd because all the hard evidence suggests this would be at best a leap in the dark, at worst a disaster in the making.

Shall we do the reality first? Most obviously Rooney is not really qualified. His only experience, a year and a bit in the bizarro