I HAVE concluded over the past couple of days that I’m the world's unluckiest channel changer.

Over the course of six games now, divided out between BBC’s One and Three and ITV’s erm “regular” and Four, I’ve seen two goals go in live, and they were both German.

I intend to combat that tonight by using my iPad as a second screen and provided that doesn’t lead to some sort of football-blindness, or divorce, use that tactic through the rest of the competition.

I might have to keep my calculator close at hand too because the last few nights have been a bit complicated and numbers never have been my strong point. Perhaps I need some of those League Ladders they used to give out in Shoot magazine.

England take on Ukraine at the plush Donbass Arena, which boasts proudly in the “Facts and Figures” section of its official website to possess 227 lavatories with 471 toilets and 333 wash basins.

Maths has never been my strong point, but there seems something up with that division.

So long as England’s good work in this tournament isn’t flushed down the pan, I don’t mind.

I came into the tournament preaching negativity and there is still a small part of me wanting a quick and painless death, rather than the usual torture of penalties.

But at the very least I’d like to blame our failings on an inept official and not a terrible performance, which is exactly how I felt trudging out of the pub after our meek display against Germany in South Africa, ball over the line or not.

Something slightly more entertaining than the France game, yet nothing as gung-ho as the Sweden match would be just right, thank you Mr Hodgson.

On a completely unrelated topic – tonight’s venue usually plays host to Champions League dwellers Shakhtar – and I wonder if anyone, like me, finds it impossible to pronounce their name without pretending I’m saying “Chaka Khan?”

No-one? Well, never mind.