Once, I had a short story about giving up cigarettes published. It focused on a typical third day in the life of a reformed non-smoker, and the extent to which the fags still held a horrible grip over everything in that person's life. Therefore, the suffering main character was called Ash (groan), who lived on Filter Street (double groan) and who's every speaking sentence contained references to the nasty tar-sticks (asking for a "Cigs-ty five pence ticket" on the bus - collapsing in pain-wracked moans and groans). Needless to say, the yarn was semi-autobiographical. I hated those first few days after rejecting cigarettes, and one of the few ways I had of dealing with the experience was to write about it. Sadly, the addiction eventually won me over again; despite numerous attempts, I continue to pollute my lungs on a regular basis. Sadder still, guess what I spent the money for selling the story on?

This was before I came across the pleasures of Championship Manager, but it strikes me now that my unending desire to play the game has many similarities to cigarette addiction. No hold on, this isn't as stupid as it sounds. When I first started playing CM, it was an all-consuming experience for me. All I wanted to do was crack on with my managerial adventure, and I did so at the expense of many other things. I worked near home for a while, and my day involved getting up, playing CM until I had to go to the office, coming home at lunchtime for 45 minutes' further play, then at the end of the working day settling down before my PC for yet more of the same. And the computer wouldn't go off until midnight usually. A poor effort I know, but for a time that was just how it was. Whilst at work, I made things worse by flicking through CM sites, printing off guides, tactics and the die-hard lists of great players. My only redemption came with the fact that no one who I worked with shared this addiction; otherwise I doubt I would have even talked about anything else at all during the day.

I'm not as bad as this now, but things were certainly getting serious there for a time. After months of living in the manner described above, I would have sudden bursts of zealous inspiration, an urge to go out and do something less boring instead. Feverishly, I would delete the entire game from my hard drive, and start reading a book instead, or resolve to spend more time with my family. But this couldn't last. Typically, I would last like this for three days (see story above) before desperately rushing to the PC and reinstalling CM, easing into a relaxed state as the game began its long, long load of a new scenario.

These days, my life with CM is less full on. Sure I still love it, but I no longer feel an all-consuming need to be with it all the time. My family don't feel as though they've been rejected in favour of an enormous database (it could be worse, I suppose) and I surf the web for all sorts of subjects at work. I'm even known to do some work, from time to time.

The only thing I can compare my early CM experiences to with is the horribleness of smoking. The sensation of addiction was just the same, with my thoughts continually turning to the object of my affection and everything else taking second place. This was despite the fact that I knew there were better games out there (let's face it, CM might be fun, but it hardly compares with the majesty of the Tomb Raider series, does it? The latter is sexier, more playable and unless you're a scum cheats-user, demands greater skill) and indeed, more interesting things in life (arguably). I recall the palm-moistening feeling of desire for the game with near self-loafing nausea, even though half the time I'm playing it I'm cursing at the screen for conspiring to cheat my world-class Boro team (yeah right) out of three points yet again. The truth is that I'm happy with CM, just as I like smoking. It's nobody's fault; it's just the way I am. I think the root of CM's addictiveness lies in the fact that anyone apart from the most die-hard gaming freak plays it via a love for football. We're all fans of the game first, CM players second, and like all supporters, we know exactly how success at our clubs could be achieved. I remain certain that Steve McClaren would value my input into how he can achieve greatness at the Riverside by playing a 3-1-3-1-2 formation, signing certain Swedish players, and… well, you know the rest. The game gives you the chance to do nothing more than have a crack at managing your own team (surely everyone does this first before wishing to run a Brazilian Serie B struggler) with all the players you know and 5,000 more of the bleeders out there, with their own attributes and to an extent, their own personalities (I love the way Djalmina moves four times in one summer, and how Nicolas Anelka is by far the most important player at PSG in his mind).

So there you have it - the labyrinthine cause of Championship Manager's addictiveness revealed! Needless to say, I'm now off for a smoke, and afterwards maybe a few games of Boro's all-conquering 2006/07 season…