Andre Villas-Boas on the touchline at Carrow Road. Picture: Paul Chesterton / Focus Images

One of the many great delights of commentating at Carrow Road every couple of weeks is being allowed to sit in what I think are the best seats in the house. The ‘Roy Waller Commentary Box’, as it was fittingly named during last season in tribute to the great man, comprises three yellow seats on top of the players’ tunnel.

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Perched right on the halfway line, it is worth the precarious climb over the wall which divides it from the director’s box. It’s the only possible method of entry 15 minutes before kick-off as the seats either side of it are filled with spectators and is further proof that gantries and commentary boxes at football grounds are the one element of modern life to which the words ‘health and safety’ remain a stranger. Long may it continue – it’s the best exercise I get.

Once inserted in the Carrow Road box, it is impossible not to enjoy yourself. The priceless view is only enhanced by the proximity to the two dugouts. I have learnt a dictionary full of new words since taking over as BBC Radio Norfolk’s Carrow Road commentator, none of which can be printed here until the EDP decides to aim for the newsagents’ top shelf.

One of my lasting memories from Saturday’s game will be the dress sense of the Chelsea manager Andre Villas-Boas. Perhaps it was because I was commentating with ex-Norwich winger ‘Disco’ Dale Gordon, who lives up to his nickname as one of the game’s more snappy dressers, but I couldn’t help but notice that Villas-Boas must be the only Premier League manager who spends almost as much money on clothes as he does on players. For that reason he stands out like a sore thumb.

The touchline of a Premier League match is undoubtedly a place of work. The only question is whether a manager sees himself as a blue or white collar worker. Paul Lambert is one of many who always puts on his tracksuit for games, while others prefer a more business-like approach, going for a dark suit as if to get across an impression that they have grown up considerably since their playing days. There seems to be an unwritten rule in football management that you have to be one or the other. I can’t, off the top of my head, think of a manager who sometimes wears a suit, but also prefers a tracksuit from time to time.

Villas-Boas has taken being suited and booted to a new level. At 34 the pressure of being the youngest manager in the top flight seems to have led to him not wanting to dress like those managerial opponents old enough to be his father. AVB’s touchline chic is that of a man hoping he might be photographed for a catalogue, complete with extremely shiny shoes and fashionable coat. You would never catch him in a jumper with his initials on the front.

On the subject of the dugout dress code, there are a couple of trends I’ve never been able to fathom. One is the manager or coach wearing shorts on the sidelines. The Bolton boss Owen Coyle and Manchester United assistant manager Mike Phelan, once a Norwich player, are both regular offenders. Football is a winter sport and these people have left their running around days behind, so why dress like they’re still playing?

The other mystery that no-one has ever been able to solve is why substitute goalkeepers wear their gloves while they’re on the bench. They all do it. I understand that they could potentially be called upon at any moment, but in truth it very rarely happens and in that event it wouldn’t take long to put the gloves on as they jogged onto the field. It is almost as if they are sitting on the sidelines doing their best to stand out from the rest. It’s the goalkeeper’s equivalent of the desperate businessman with the cartoon character on his tie. They’re telling the crowd, “I may look like all these boring people I’m sitting with, but don’t lump me in with them. Look at these bright gloves, I’m different. Please be my friend”.

Perhaps when you decide to be a goalkeeper you are consigning your hands to a life of constant darkness. For all I know, if they’re wearing them while sitting on the bench, they may never take them off.

• WHO NEEDS GOALS WHEN YOU’VE GOT ENTERTAINMENT?

The Chelsea game was one that people who do not like football will never understand. I wonder how many post-match conversations between those who were at the game and friends or family members who are blind to the delights of a Saturday afternoon at Carrow Road included the line “How can you have a good 0-0?”

It isn’t easy to explain to the uninitiated how you can spend good money to watch people who are paid thousands and thousands of pounds a week fail to score a goal while playing a sport of which the entire point is scoring goals and come away feeling exhilarated and satisfied by the entertainment.

Those who don’t get the intricacies of a ‘good 0-0’ are probably the same people who will ask: “You’ve been watching that Test Match for the past five days, what do you mean it ended in a draw?”

And: “How can that film be any good? It’s silent isn’t it?”

The Artist is being tipped for big things by those in the know and its timing is useful. If, in 2012, a mainly silent black and white film can be tipped to win a bagful of Oscars in an industry dominated by clever special effects and whizzy CGI animation then it is more than possible to see a good 0-0 at Carrow Road.

Cards on the table, I’m believing the publicity about The Artist having not seen it. Partly because of time constraints, a particularly Norfolk attitude to modern cinema (have you seen how much they want for a ticket?) and never really having a Barry Norman-esque appetite to see all the latest flicks as soon as possible.

In fact, my mind is so pre-set to football that when someone asked me recently if I’d seen The Artist and War Horse I assumed they were talking about Wes Hoolahan and Grant Holt.