I found myself wincing tonight when reading the comments of others on social networks, far more principled than I, who refuse to hand over Sky Sports subscriptions to Rupert Murdoch. When the playwright Dennis Potter had cancer, he named his tumour after the Dirty Digger, ‘Rupert’. I am not exactly having a crisis of conscience – that would be stretching things just a bit too far – but I do know that it would not be unfair to regard my parting of cash with Murdoch as an act of hypocrisy.

I am not alone in feeling that way. I know enough people, for example, who adore cricket, rugby and golf who hold their noses and sign up to Sky because they can’t live without it. I get that. I could live without almost everything that Murdoch has acquired in TV rights, except Liverpool FC, Barcelona and Wigan Warriors. I watch the golf avidly, but could cope without it. Without Liverpool, I could get my fix, and more, of Premier League football through Match of the Day although I have to admit that I watch more of La Liga and the Super League than is probably good for me. But the Murdoch thing makes me twitchy because I am not on the moral high ground, far from it.

I do not buy any newspaper owned by Murdoch but I have seen movies made by both 20th and 21st Century Fox, companies owned or part owned by the not so great man himself. In order to seek purity, should I also boycott his movies, too, or his books, that are published through HarperCollins? Probably, yes, in terms of pure principle, but then, there are movies I really want to see, books I really want to read. Do I only have principles when they suit me? The answer is probably yes.

The fact that I am writing this at all shows me wrestling with some rights or wrongs, looking for some excuses as to why I do something for which there is little by way of moral justification. It’s not a good feeling.

I suspect there are a few Bristol City fans who feel a bit awkward about their billionaire chairman’s tax arrangements which mean they have to pay a little more from their modest incomes to fund things like the NHS, but they still attend games anyway. My God: I went to a rugby union game at Ashton Gate a few weeks ago. Bless me father for I have sinned. Good game though.

Eventually, I shall have to let go of Murdoch’s increasing grip on our media. We’ve just negotiated what I suspect is a loss-leading new contract with Virgin which dramatically reduces what we pay to Branson and through Branson to Murdoch. But I am still not clean and my conscience isn’t clear, either.

The day is getting nearer when I shall bite the bullet and confine all my favourite teams to a place on the internet when I can find out what’s going on instead of actually watching them in action. I’ll have to see which films I can watch and which books I can read without further filling Murdoch’s coffers, too, and that might be a little tricky. I still hate Rupert Murdoch’s guts though.