When a gentleman motorcyclist is closeted within a public house for the duration of a football game, should he be on speaking terms with the landlord, he would gain advantage from requesting that his helmet be stored in the beer cellar. Resting on the top of a pre-chilled barrel is best, gloves and jacket just to the side. I tell you, sticking your head in a lid that has been held at a climate-controlled, dehumidified 11 degrees Celsius for a few hours is a fucking joy. For a few seconds, obviously - but a joy, nonetheless. Second only to sticking the bogroll in the freezer after a vindaloo.