What a cracking pen portrait of Harry Parfitt. The first paragraph drags you in by using the simile of his pet dog to describe his qualities, then tells you that they are opposites; while the second paragraph is like something out of a Raymond Chandler novel.
"Fitness might be Parfitt's middle name. He is good for 120 minutes; always quick on recovery, cool and accurate with his use of the ball. He was tough. I thought he was going to be trouble until I found out he had a dame. Trouble was, she was tougher. She had an iron smile that could count the money in your hip wallet."