By Polly Hudson THERE are only two possible reasons I know the name of a footballer. Either they’ve caused a scandal, or they’re married to Posh Spice (Or, now and then, both). Despite having a husband who would insist on a transfusion if blood wasn’t naturally red, because that would be the only colour allowed to flow through his veins, I can’t tell you who any of the Arsenal players are. Over the years, I’ve perfected the skill of turning any football chat that occurs in my vicinity into white noise. I know who Kyle Walker is though. And that means, despite best efforts, I couldn’t help noti…