1066 and all that

This year is the 900^th anniversary of Harold getting one in the eye from those pesky Normans. The end of last month saw the 50^th anniversary of one of this countries better days when we put one over ‘the other Becks’ in beating Franz Beckenbauer’s German team to win the 1966 Soccer World Cup. 

 

By a strange quirk of fate memories of the Battle of Hastings are most commonly depicted in colour through the Bayeux tapestry while most of us who were around for the world cup will probably have watched the match on a grainy black and white television set. The colour footage that is trotted out at every opportunity to relive our former glories was captured on film. Colour broadcasts did not emerge in the UK until 1967 and even then initially it was only on BBC2.

I was 8 at the time of England’s greatest footballing success and remember the occasion well. The family had been planning their annual break for several months – on this occasion it was to be a fortnight at a bungalow in Dymchurch. It was only at the last moment that my father learned that there was no television on the site so, having meticulously packed and secured everything in place ‘Myrtle’ the family car was unceremoniously stripped to make way for the TV set. (more on Myrtle later). For those who never experienced the pleasure of watching the white dot disappear from the screen when the set was turned off I should perhaps explain that television sets in the mid-60s were typically around the size of a modern dish washer with a screen area the equivalent of the door on a small washing machine. Packed full of diodes and valves the sets were both bulky and heavy.

I should also explain that in addition to mum, dad and yours truly the other passengers were my 5 year old brother and 2 year old sister. Allowing for cumbersome buggy, baby necessities, food for at least 3 days and clothes for every permutation of British Summer to describe conditions inside my father’s trusty Wolseley 1500 saloon were extremely cramped.

For the first half of the 70 mile journey mum occupied the front passenger seat together with my sister and her ‘tardis’ handbag of baby stuff. I can’t recall exactly where we were when we were forced to stop as my brother took the opportunity to demonstrate his prowess with projectile vomit, pebble-dashing both inside and outside of the rear of the car and securing him a place in the front passenger seat for the remainder of the journey in the process. 

 

In hindsight you could argue that my parents’ should have anticipated the situation since my brother did have previous form for travel sickness. Undaunted by the delay we managed to make it to the site shortly after lunch. Cases were quickly despatched to the bedrooms and the next hour was spent finding a suitable position for the TV set, which if I recall correctly was balanced between 2 chairs. There were no extension leads in the 60s, or if there were we certainly did not have one, which restricted our options in placement of the bulky set. The remaining time prior to kick up was spent trying to find the optimum positioning of the aerial. Personally I was happy with the picture when my brother was standing on the chair by the bay window holding the twin pronged device above his head. Unfortunately, standing still for longer that 10 seconds has never been my brother’s strongest suits so we were forced to accept the next best option and dangle it from the curtain rail using a coat hanger and elastic strapping.

Memories of Myrtle are fairly mixed, thankfully she had red leather seats, it sounds plush but they were not very comfortable, especially once your brother had puked on them! I remember there being a lot of chrome on the car and wood panelling on the dashboard; the radio was functional but the sound quality from the solitary speaker was usually drowned out by the noise of the engine. It seems to be a generational thing that so many cars look alike. My knowledge of cars is not good but there are certain shapes of cars that to the untrained eye could have been manufactured by any one of 30 different companies. In the 50s cars were influenced by curves while in the 70s angularity was the vogue. In the 60s the overwhelming trend seemed to be the ‘bubble’. The Austin A30, Rover P4, Morris Minor, Ford Popular, Humber Hawk, Sunbeam Rapier, Hillman Minx and Wolseley 1500 all had a pronounced ‘bubble’ to their cabin – hence ‘Myrtle, the turtle’ - a noble beast but not renowned for their speed, or elegance. (A bit like the driver actually).

Dog’s gonads and dog’s breakfast

In 1968 I had an epiphany, which I consider was pretty good going for a 10 year-old. In a moment of outstanding lucidity I recognised that I would live a lot longer and happier life if I made a conscious effort to avoid watching the first half of any England international football match. For a young lad who spent most of his waking hours chasing a ball of some persuasion around the garden, the playground, the park the sports field or any vacant patch of turf or tarmac I envisaged this to be a daunting challenge. However, history has proved the wisdom of my decision to be sound.

The 27^th June 2016 will forever be remembered for one of the worst displays by any international side in the history of the game. Not only did England capitulated to Iceland in their last 16 match of the European Championship but it was one of the rare occasions that I neglected to follow my own advice and watched the whole game. If England v Iceland had been the 17:00 kick-off then there would have been no problem, I would have bathed the goldfish till half-time, thus avoiding at least part of the embarrassing spectacle. Unfortunately Spain v Italy was the early match; it was a very enjoyable game full of skill, energy, inventiveness, incident and excitement. As a neutral I was not really fussed which side won. On paper Spain were the justifiable favourites, with the nucleus of their ‘golden generation’ intact. Neither side had performed well during the group stages and it was apparent that many for the stalwarts who had performed so well for Italy over the years had retired from the game. I don’t think even the most ardent Italian fan would have expected that their side would perform so well, yet alone go on to win the match.

Even the rain did not spoil the spectacle of a fiercely fault tussle that ebbed and flowed, with touches of brilliance right up until the last kick of the match. It really was the doggie’s doo-dahs.

Fed, watered, entertained and slumped in my armchair I then made the fatal error of deciding to remain for the England game (ok, the alternative would have been to do the washing up).

It was plain to see right from the kick off that the England team were not up for the occasion, unlike the Icelanders who chased down every ball and harried the opposition whenever they lost possession. In contrast the English team looked lethargic and inept with even the simplest of passes repeatedly going astray. Even with the early goal England seemed disinterested. The first thing you are taught in football at any level is that after scoring a goal, you do not switch off, especially during the next 5 minutes, when the opposition are likely to throw everything they have at you.

England didn’t seem to have a Plan A let alone a Plan B. Having made it to half time with just the solitary goal defecit, you would have expected the side to have been given a roasting and come out for the second half all guns blazing. It seems to me that Roy Hodgson used the break to draft his resignation speech. I can’t believe that the manager would come out with a statement only a day before saying that he would not beg for his contract to be renewed. That is the kind of comment you would expect from an arrogant manager and certainly Roy Hodgson is not an arrogant man, which makes you wonder why he said it.

You only have to contrast the 2 matches to see the differences – It is plain to see how the Spanish will attack with their intricate passing, what the Italians will try to do in defence then counter-attack and where Iceland will focus their attention on a solid defence, quick breaks and long throws into the box. Nobody knows where England’s priorities lie; We’re supposedly strong in attack, so we will play our most effective strikers out of position on the wing, why? We select players who have hardly kicked a ball all season through injury, why again? A player is dropped for a match because his confidence is shot to pieces and then play him in the next match in the hope that he may rediscover his form - that is why teams have a squad.

Forget the results, England may have come through the qualifying matches unbeaten but it was clear that even after 10 games there was no cohesive strategy in how the team was set out to play, nor was there any indication as to what format they were supposed to be playing nor who our best 11 players are.

It says a lot that Marcus Rashford was awarded England’s Player of the Match, yet he only came on for the last 6 minutes!

The water carrier for Iceland moved around the pitch quicker than some of the England players and he was about 3 times the size of Wayne Rooney. He probably covered more ground than most of the squad on the night as well.

I happened to be on a training course on the Monday and Tuesday along with a group of lads from other companies. We spent Monday’s lunchbreak discussing the games, as one does, and left in the afternoon suitably enthused about the prospects for the evening.

I would like to think that it was the dedication with which we were concentrating on our training because there was a huge white elephant in the room the following day. A few of the lads were seriously into their football but not one of us wanted to say a single word about either game for the whole day. There were no newspapers, no recriminations, no analysis, no one even asked if anyone had seen the game – it was as if the past 16 hours had been wiped out of our collective consciousness.

Much like the Brexit decision of Britain’s EU Referendum last week, few were expecting the outcome, even fewer were prepared for the result, there is not a lot that any of us can do about it now and there aren’t many people who seem to know where we go from here.

They think it’s all over

As the football season approaches the business end for many clubs it is perhaps a good time to reflect on what has been an extraordinary season.

The TV money on offer to the top clubs next season should have proved sufficient incentive to all to remain in the Premier League. That said, I can’t recall a season when so many teams have underperformed. Chelsea had a dreadful start to the season and never recovered. On paper both Liverpool clubs should have been challenging for Champions League positions yet indifferent performances in key matches has cost them dear. Neither Arsenal nor Manchester City have achieved the consistency that would have secured them the league title. That distinction went to the exceptional Leicester City, who started the season as 5000/1 outsiders to win the title.

The turn around since last season, where only a late run of good results saved them from relegation from the top flight has been probably the greatest sporting comeback I have seen in any sport during my lifetime. I really hope they can keep the side together for next season since the blend they have in the squad and the style of football they play would seem well suited to the Champions League.

Manchester United have been consistently poor throughout the season, having seemed to forget where the opposition’s penalty box is, let alone their goal. In a season that has seen so much that is good about the game it is sad to say that with 2 games to go till the end of the season United are still in with a chance of securing the 4^th Champion’s League spot. In most clubs disgruntled supporters leave the ground early, in United’s case this season the supporters have fallen asleep through boredom before they have the chance to walk out. One statistic that I heard this week was that they were ranked 2^nd in the league in terms of possession of the ball yet 15^th in number of shots on target.

On the plus side Tottenham have demonstrated the merits of a great youth team set up that saw them blood several youngsters in their challenge for the title, with many of them home grown players, you would think that they now have a firm base on which to build next season.

Over recent seasons the big money clubs have been able to go out and buy established, big name signings that have brought them success; with the increasing influence of soccer in China, America and the Middle East the competition for top names will be even stiffer so perhaps the emphasis will switch to building a cohesive squad rather than relying on one or two big name ‘match winners’.

Leicester having sealed the title with 3 games to spare meant that the focus now shifts to the more pressing issues of the relegation battle and whether Gary Lineker will fulfil his pledge to present Match of the Day in his underpants should Leicester win the league.

It is perhaps symptomatic of this strange season that the talking point of the week should be whether the Leicester grocer is a boxer or tidy-widey man. Personally, there are more pressing concerns on my agenda than Mr. Lineker’s choice of intimate apparel – Generally I don’t trust presenters who smile too much on TV but my guess is that he is not a thong man.

As to the thorny issue of relegation – Aston Villa have been woeful all season with the off-field antics of their players generating more headlines than their poor performances on the pitch.

My favourite story of the week was a picture of a Villa fan’s car with a broken driver’s window and the caption. ‘Left 2 tickets to the game on the dashboard, found the car broken into overnight and someone has added 2 more tickets!’

The only good thing to come from Villa being relegated is that it gives David Cameron one less thing to crow about.

The remaining 2 relegation places would seem to be between Norwich City, Newcastle and Sunderland. All have been poor throughout the season, especially Newcastle who spent a lot of money on transfers for players who, in most people’s eyes, did not warrant the huge fees and have certainly not done anything to repay the club. Norwich, the eternal yo-yo team, has always had a core of good quality Championship players but no one capable of scoring goals. Their 2 top goalscorers this season have scored 10 goals between them, which is never going to be enough at the highest level. If they are relegated this season, as I think they will be, then it will be the 4^th time they will have been relegated from the Premiership.

Sunderland must be in the driving seat to stay up – they have a game in hand over Newcastle plus they have Sam Allardyce at the helm, who has never managed a side that has been relegated and they have a proven goalscorer in Jermain Defoe.

It will be interesting to see what personnel changes will transpire over the next few months both on the pitch and in management. We already know that there will be changes at Manchester City and Chelsea. There are also question marks concerning Everton, Newcastle and Manchester United. It is plain to see that the big clubs will be getting their cheque books out over the Summer, the European Championship will provide a wonderful shop window for those wanting to play at the highest level, though as we have seen over recent seasons some players who have performed well in Europe and on the world stage have struggled to fit in playing for clubs in England.

The Premier league was at risk of becoming jaded by the strength of the bigger clubs, this season has been like a breath of fresh air.

Roll on next season – Dilly Ding, Dilly Dong.

Back to the future for the Lilleywhites

This month has simply flown by. Returning to work after 2 weeks on holiday, my deflated mood has been lifted by a book I was recommended to read before my departure to sunnier climes. The book in question is The Bromley Boys by Dave Roberts (Portico books) – available through all good online bookstores (and Amazon).

It is a story of a 15-year old boy's obsession for his local non-league football team, Bromley Football Club, a club with a proud history who in 1969/70 were enduring a season to forget.

I was particularly keen to read the book because not only did I grow up in that area but Bromley Football Club was also part of my life during that period. From the book I have learned that Dave is slightly older than me, we played football in the same local park, but probably have never met.

It was a wonderful trip down memory lane, a reminder of my forgotten youth and some of the joys of living in the borough. It was interesting to read that we both went to private schools – Dave managed to get expelled from his because of his love for Bromley Football Club – How cool is that! Theft, violence, vandalism, arson, insubordination I can understand the need for such a drastic course of action but to be expelled for being obsessed about a football club, and Bromley of all clubs, must have been a first.

The book documents the difficulty of being a fan of a non-league football team at school in great detail. It is not easy living with the taunts and jibes especially when you are at a rugby playing school and everyone around you supports one of the big league teams.

I wish I had thought of getting expelled in the same way because the 1969/70 season was a difficult time for me. I had just moved from primary to a completely different (or should I say indifferent) secondary school. All I wanted to do was play football, morning, noon and night. I'd like to think that at the age of 11 I could run faster with a ball at my feet than without it. I doubt that was true but at that age there is nothing you believe you can't do.

My new school didn't play football, they played rugby – I had been sold out by my parents, a pill I found even harder to swallow when I learned that I had been offered a scholarship to another school in the area that not only played football but had a good reputation for their cricket. From being a promising footballer at primary school I found that because of my height (or lack of it) I was allocated to the lowest tier for my ongoing rugby education, consigned to the group of carthorses, shirkers and asthmatics. Fortunately my form teacher recognised early on that there was little value to be gained from adding my paltry weight to the scrum and I was allowed to play in the backs where I at least had the opportunity of outrunning the carthorses or belting the ball as far as I could before they clattered into me.

In the book Dave talks of his teenage crush on Una Stubbs. I was a bit young to have a crush on anyone but I was very taken with Caroline Munro whose image was being plastered on giant billboards across the country in a series of posters for Lamb's Navy Rum. I seem to recall KP nuts producing a marketing pack with photos of a series of glamorous models on, I think she may have been one of them, but maybe I am mistaken. There were 24 packs of peanuts on each display and as each pack was sold it would reveal a bit more of the hidden photograph. The nuts were always on display in the tea room at Bromley and I made a point of checking to see how many packets had been sold every time I went in for my mug of tea and iced bun.

There is a section in the book about Dave's Christmas wish list which reminded me of my own experiences. Unlike Dave who proudly sported his supporters club badge on his blazer, I wanted my passage through school to be as painless as possible so had already nailed my colours to the mast as an Arsenal supporter (I chose to wear my Bromley pin on the back of my lapel, which gave one kid a nasty surprise when he tried to rough me up in the playground).

In my last year at primary school a friend had been kind enough to lend me his pair of George Best Stylo boots that had the laces at the side. They were dog's doo-dahs and I really felt that they helped my game so this was top of my wish list, along with the familiar red and white Arsenal shirt.

Come Christmas, what did I receive? A red and black striped shirt and a pair of rugby boots! It was definitely not my year. My father told me that I could play as AC Milan – but I didn't want to play as AC Milan, I didn't even know where Milan was (geography was not one of my subjects). As for the rugby boots, what was I to do with a pair of ghastly, ill-fitting lumps of rubber with laces thicker than a washing line. They were probably molded from old tyres, they certainly smelt as if they had been. Part of the Christmas surprise was not letting me know what my parents were buying me, which explains why they didn't fit me properly.

My limited understanding of the construction of a standard rugby boot is that the high sides are supposed to give padded protection to the ankle. From painful experience all I can attest to is that I lurched around the field like Coco the clown, the high sides rubbing the skin off my ankles which they were supposed to protect.

Thankfully, my feet grew very quickly and it was not long before I had outgrown these monstrosities. It took 7 more years for the rest of my body to catch up, considerably less for my ankles to heal, but I was at least given the opportunity to choose their replacement, a more sensible pair of Pele Santos football boots.

I never did get my Arsenal shirt, even though they went on to win the double in 1971. Dave Roberts now lives in the States where he writes his books and continues to follow the exploits of his beloved team via the internet. Bromley FC have never achieved the successes that they experienced in the 1940s and 50s, they remain a non-league side, subjecting their supporters to a rollercoaster of emotions that no theme park ride could ever capture.

I never played regular competitive football after leaving school, though I do still carry a pair of boots in my car in case a kick around is in the offing.

A film based on the book is in the planning which I am really looking forward to. In the meantime I am still available should Roy Hodgson wish to give me a call.

Sport's Summer of sultry, soggy, shocks and success

By nature the British are a stoic and cautious breed which has earned them an international reputation for unpredictability. Nowhere is this better demonstrated than in the skies and on our playing fields. The weather in and around this small island is notoriously fickle and over recent years the gods have made reigned havoc over the Summer months. Equally unpredictable have been the performances of our sporting elite.

2014 has been a busy year of sport with the Soccer World Cup, the Commonwealth Games, Wimbledon, a long season of international cricket, the Twenty20 World Cup, Golf and a wealth of rugby international fixtures.

As Roy Hodgson says, we are not very good with the ball at our feet and we are not very good with the ball in the air – Now I may not have taken my FA coaching badges but in my understanding that does rather limit our options given the objectives of the game.

Things were going so well up to the point that the team got on the plane. Roy looked very much at home on his fact finding mission to Manaus (in that 'Bemused pensioner abroad' guise - must have really put the fear into the opposition). By and large no one was expecting the side to do brilliantly in this tournament so there should have been no surprises when the overall performance can at best be described as 'understated'. What I did not expect to read were so many people saying afterwards that we should have achieved more. Yes, on our day the team should have done better but based on the performances on the pitch I don't see how we deserved any more. Some of the less fancied teams turned up and raised their game, sadly we did not.

It was an interesting competition, that had its share of great moments, touches of individual brilliance and outstanding games but overall you could not say that any of the teams was in the same bracket as some of the great sides of the past.

The tennis came hard on the back of the soccer which helped the healing process. Andy Murray once more carried the British hopes but never looked at ease following his back problems. The fact that the tournament was played in largely glorious weather was an added bonus and the overall standard was pretty high.

Golf always has been a great leveller and with Tiger Woods returning from injury and Rory McIlroy's form wavering it has been an interesting Summer which opened the door for other players to step up to the mark. Though Tiger has already ruled himself out through injury it should be an interesting Ryder Cup at Gleneagles in September.

England's cricketing woes continued throughout most of the Summer. Apart from the last 3 test matches, which were the first we had won in 11 tests, the majority of the performances were way below expected. Alastair Cook and Ian Bell couldn't buy a run, the bowling was average and the middle order batting was unable to step up to the plate with any consistency.

What has been intriguing to me is the number of records that have been set by lower order batsmen. I'm not sure that it tells us much about the standard of batting or bowling, but it has made several of the matches far more entertaining than they deserved to be.

Let's face it, as a bowler James Anderson is one of the best swing-bowlers around, but with bat in hand he is a 'ferret' (the guy they send in after the 'rabbits'). For him to score 95 runs in a test match, at number 11! - It must have been a full moon.

In the 2^nd test England managed to conjure defeat from a winning position and in the remaining 3 tests India capitulated through a mixture of strange team selection, poor bowling and weak batting. A great pity since several of their top order batsmen are very capable run scorers though, Dhoni apart, they were all going through the same turmoil that has thwarted Alastair Cook for much of the past 18 months.

So now we are back to the football season and it would seem that the heat has already made some of the club chairmen tetchy. One manager in the championship was sacked after just one game, and Crystal Palace parted company with their manager, Tony Pulis, 2 days before the start of the season.

The usual frenzy of the transfer market distracts the attention from what is happening on the pitch. Personally, I think it is to the detriment of the game to have a transfer window that stretches into the season. It is hard enough to get a new team of players to gel on the pitch and it can't help not knowing whether you are going have the same squad from one day to the next.

While most clubs are forced to rummage around in the bargain basement it would seem that the present trend is for the rich clubs to buy up any player they deem to be a potential threat to them and loan them out to a team from a league as far removed from their own as possible.

A lot of money appears to have changed hands but it is hard to see that any Premier League side has greatly strengthened their squad. I would love someone to explain what is going on at Southampton. Having overachieved last year they have sold the backbone of the team and consequently find themselves favourites for the drop this season. Liverpool have splashed the cash in the expectation of a run in the Champions League, Manchester United, Manchester City,Tottenham, Arsenal and Everton seem to be chasing every player with a world cup pedigree who is unsettled or only has a year left on their contract.

The fact so many of the top clubs have been looking to offload some of their fringe or surplus players (and largely failing) would indicate how the market has been driven by over-priced prima donnas. The number of clubs competing for the top players is increasing as the game increases it global foothold. Transfer fees may continue to rise but you really have to question what you are getting for your money.

Are the likes of Messi, Ronaldo, Bale really worth £80m? Eyebrows were raised when Torres was sold to Chelsea for £50m. Given some of the fees paid of late it is a wonder eyes have not popped out of their sockets.

This time last season I was warming to the transfer of Mehmet Ozil to Arsenal for £42m as shrewd business (the sight of Wenger opening his wallet always raises an eyebrow). Up until Christmas he looked like a man on a mission, since then he looks like a man who has gone missing. A world class player who has lost the 'cl'. Players with the talent of a Torres or an Ozil do not lose their ability overnight, all players go through bad spells, but usually the confidence returns and they bounce back. With the pressures of the game today and the money being spent on the top performing players it remains to be seen how long clubs will wait for players to re-discover their form once it has deserted them.

No sooner has Liverpool's Bad Boy, Luis Suarez, left these shores than they replace him with another bad boy, Mario Balotelli. He might be good for the telly, not so sure what damage he might bring to the dressing-room. And, in what appears to have a whiff of desperation Manchester United have forked out nearly £60m for Argentine winger, Angel Di Maria, taking their spending in the past 2 years to over £200m. Personally, I did not think that Di Maria had a particularly great world cup. Yes, he has a certain talent but I feel his valuation has been boosted by the unavailability of many of the other top players.

Not sure what was going through Arsene Wenger's mind when he allowed Cesc Fabregas to move to Chelsea for £27m. Maybe Arsenal do have a surfeit of midfielders on the payroll but most of them have season tickets for the treatment room, none are natural leaders and allowing a player of his class to go to one of your main competitors, when you have 1^st option would seem contrary to what most other clubs would have done.

 

Clearly the Summer sun has gone to some of the manager's heads, or is it just the heat of the battle.

Bongos at the ready – it's samba time! Let's go Brazil nuts.

With the World Cup, Commonwealth Games, Wimbledon, Sri Lanka and India test matches in this country and some tasty rugby tours taking place in the southern hemisphere I have been really looking forward to a great Summer of sport in the safe knowledge that my heart-rate would not be put placed under too much pressure during any of England's performances.

Never having been a fan of pyjama cricket I can't say that I paid much attention to the Twenty20 World Cup but I did enjoy the test matches against Sri Lanka which were made far more entertaining than they should have been largely due to England's ineptitude with both bat and ball. That both Stuart Broad and James Anderson failed to perform on pitches that were 'tailored' to suit them only served to highlight the lack of a quality spinner. Fine bowlers as they are on their day, neither seemed capable of bowling a consistent length that would put pressure on the Sri Lankan batsmen.

The roof on Centre Court at Wimbledon has improved the spectacle considerably. I watched the match between Eugenie Bouchard and Alize Cornet yesterday and was impressed not only with both performances but the fact that they could hit the ball without squealing like a stuck pig.

On the men's game, the top 4 looked to be in ominous form until the 19 year-old wild card from Australia, Nick Kyrgios, blasted Rafa Nadel out of the competition with an impeccable display of thunderous serving that never allowed the world number 1 to get into his rhythm. It remains to be seen whether the youngster can maintain the quality and focus but with a 133 mph first serve (and a 2^nd serve of not much less) he could cause the other big boys a few headaches.

As for the Soccer World Cup, love the atmosphere in Brazil which has certainly lived up to expectations. I always thought that this would be a particularly open tournament in terms of team performance. The difference in climate around the country has definitely had an influence on some of the games but it has not spoiled the enjoyment of what has so far been a wonderful spectacle, with goals and incidents aplenty.

The climate I believe favours the South American sides yet I don't think there is any stand out team that you could say is a shoe-in for the final.

Teams seem to fall into distinctive styles, Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay build the teams around their big names (Neymar, Messi and Suarez respectively) while others have made an impact through a collective performance. Then there is England – who fall into neither category.

Anyone who has taken the remotest interest in the game that is played on the playgrounds and pitches in this country (rather than the hype that is played out on the back pages of the tabloids) will realise the futility of placing any expectations on our national team. Yes, they were poor but I don't think they played as badly as some would have us believe. Would the results have been different if Suarez had been available for the Costa Rica game? What if we had not played Italy in Manaus, or the fixtures had been in reverse order?

Personally I would have liked to see John Terry and Ashley Cole playing. Both have the experience and unlike Steve Gerrard (good player as he is) John Terry is capable of marshalling the back 4, which is where we are particularly weak. Other than those 2, it is hard to say that the squad was not the strongest we could pick for this tournament.

It is frustrating looking at the performances of the likes of Iran, Nigeria and Algeria who have called upon players from lower leagues but still managed to piece together a unit capable of stringing more than half a dozen passes without giving the ball away.

It has always been an irritation to me that so many players at the top level are incapable of kicking the ball with either foot. What I find hard to understand is how often players fail to make a 6 yard pass with their good foot, even when they are under no pressure. Maybe the England team are very good at 'keepie-uppie' but you will never build a cohesive team if you don't have a strategy, can't pass the ball and most importantly can't keep hold of the ball effectively.

Of equal concern is the disappointing quality of heading displayed throughout the tournament. A lot of this is due to poor technique but I think there may be other factors to explain why so many balls bounced tamely off expensively coiffured bonces and ballooned into the arms of a delighted goalkeeper. As an aging man with a receding hairline I know that I am on thin ice when it comes to comments on hairstyles - A lot of players seem to have been sporting a  semi-shaved cut that I can only imagine is a homage to 'the Brazilian' bikini wax. It takes guts to go onto the pitch looking like a tosser, even worse if you play like one - I guess that in years to come they will look back at the footage and cringe in the same way as we all do when confronted by the folly of our youth.

Unfortunately the off field scandals have rumbled on throughout the tournament, fortunately the quality of the football has temporarily diverted the attention from them, but there are still a great many issues that football's governing body needs to address. The awarding of the 2022 tournament to Qatar, corruption within FIFA, match fixing allegations and the cost of staging the tournament. Is it any wonder that Sepp Blatter is roundly booed at every game he chooses to attend. How can he stand up and say that FIFA will investigate the corruption within its own organisation? That surely has to be done by an independent body.

I'm not sure about the conundrum that is Luis Suarez, a great player, compelling to watch but a total liability. This is the 3^rd biting incident during his playing career and I really wonder if the fine and ban imposed on him would have been different if the perpetrator had not had such a high profile in the game. I can't help feeling that a player from the 4^th tier of football would have been banned from game for life while, had the biting occurred anywhere other than on a football field he would have faced criminal charges.

Could Suarez now be come the first footballer to have his teeth ensured for more than his feet? Maybe some enterprising promoter could set up a battle 'Suarez v Tyson – Winner eats all'.

Away from the TV I have been following the World Cup via the BBC website and one particular element did get me thinking. Picking your favourite all-time World Cup XI from a pool selected by experts. It was a lot harder than I had thought because there are several ways that you could approach this. The most effective; the most pleasing to watch; the best balance and I dare say you could think of other criteria to take into consideration.

I have tried to pick a team that from players that I have enjoyed watching over the years and that I believe could play as a cohesive unit. This inevitably has meant that I have been unable to find a place for several of my favourite players but, for posterity, here is my selection for the All-time World Cup XI as well as a Team of the tournament based on the performances that I have seen so far in this World Cup.

All-Time World Cup XI

Dino Zoff (Italy)
Roberto Carlos (Brazil)
Paulo Maldini (Italy)
Franz Beckenbauer (Germany)
Bobby Moore (England)
Jairzinho (Brazil)
Garrincha (Brazil)
Zinedine Zidane (France)
Miroslav Klose (Germany)
Johan Cruyff (Netherlands)
Pele ((Brazil)

Cafu was ruled out for the worst piece of theatricals, Maradona for cheating; Miroslav Klose gets the nod ahead of Gerd Muller on the basis that I can't remember seeing Muller moving anywhere other than inside the penalty box and Cristiano Ronaldo is omitted on grounds that he has never really brought his right boots to the World Cup. 
 

It would have been nice to have found a place for Eusebio and Zico but I would probably go with Platini as reserve, if it was only possible to play with 1 substitute.

2014 World Cup XI

Ochoa (Mexico)
Omeruo (Nigeria)
Hummels (Germany)
Marquez (Mexico)
Zabaleta (Argentina)
James (Columbia)
Valbuena (France)
Pirlo (Italy)
Robben (Netherlands)

Van Persie (Netherlands)
Messi (Argentina)


Substitutes:

Howard (USA)
Beasley (USA)
Cuadrado (Columbia)
Feghouli (Algeria)
Musa (Nigeria)

Muller (Germany)

Who would I pick to go on and win the cup? As I mentioned I don't think any team is playing particularly well at present, but the usual suspect have managed to force their way through to the quarter-final stage. For the sake of the tournament I would like to see Brazil make it to the final; I am not convinced that the Dutch have the temperament to go all the way and could well 'bottle it' under pressure. The romantic in me would like to see Columbia or Costa Rica take the title but I think the Germans have the experience that could see them sneak through and win it, even if they are playing poorly.

Beginner's luck

Congratulations to Peter Edwards, a 62 year grandfather from Corwen, Denbighshire who has just collected a £125,000 payout from William Hill on a £50 bet he made 15 years ago. The bet was that his 18 month-old grandson, Harry Wilson, would one day be an international footballer at senior level. Last Wednesday the 16 year-old Liverpool midfielder came on in the 87^th minute as substitute during Wales' drawn World Cup qualifier against Belgium. At 16 years and 207 days he becomes the youngest ever player to represent Wales, beating Gareth Bale's record by 108 days.

A brave bet considering soccer is still considered to be the second sport throughout most of rugby mad Wales. Being cautious by nature I would probably have opted to spread my bets, possible a tenner each on playing football or rugby for Wales, a tenner to become Prime Minister, ten pound to have an album top the music charts and ten to become principal dancer with the Royal Ballet.

The odds of 2500/1 were particularly attractive in the circumstances; I wonder what odds you would get these days on an 18 month-old child getting a proper job by the age of 25 or ever being able to buy their own home?

The Great Tottenham Bale Out

Maybe this story should come under the Silly Season comments because from a neutral position my mind boggles that this Summer's bun-fest of soccer transfers to has focused on one man and negotiations that have lasted longer than the season itself. Not that you can blame the player, he probably had very little say in the way the transaction took place or the timing of events. Ultimately I think Gareth Bale's move to Real Madrid will be a good deal for all for all concerned. Tottenham have already made some shrewd investments in anticipation of the 24 year-old's departure, partly through clearing out some of their own squad and bringing in new quality signing that will give the side options and balance. There is no doubting Bale's talents which will be well suited to both the Spanish league and the Champions league. From a marketing perspective he will be another hot property alongside the likes of Ronaldo, Messi and Iniesta so provided that the club can keep him fit it is easy to see how the club can turn a profit on their investment however substantial the final fee may be. There never appears to be a shortage of billboards in Spain when it comes to advertising. I'm sure that within weeks Mr. Bale's face will be endorsing everything from tooth paste and hair gel to luxury apartments and cat worming treatments.

The amount of hype that the 2 transfer windows generate is ridiculous, largely fuelled by speculative agents trying to talk up opportunities for their clients, or players trying to engineers deals for themselves. Whether you view the windows as a good or bad thing I suspect will be influenced by whether your club's manager has just secured the services of a top player or has been battling for the past few months to keep hold of a prized asset.

It would be interesting to know how many players have used the confusion in the transfer market to secure an enhanced contract with their current club. It used to be that transfers centred on players in the English, French, German, Spanish and Italian leagues, now the game is so global that the Americas, Asia, Africa, Russia and the Middle East are all competing in the same market place and all the top clubs in each country have cash to splash on the top players.

The downside to this is that there are so many competitions and so much football being played that every club needs a large squad simply to compete at the highest level. The fact is that there are only so many players that are world class and my fear is that with so much money being focused on the top players what will be the effect on the journeyman squad player. Will up and coming players get the opportunity of progress to the next level or will their places be snapped up by overseas players who have established themselves in foreign leagues?

The Bale deal has confirmed my belief that the transfer windows are not a particularly satisfactory way of transacting business. I have never understood why the Summer window extends for a month into the new season. It seems illogical to spend June and July building a squad to play in a certain way then have all those plans disrupted through the loss or addition of a player. 

What has been evident this Summer is just how the future of so many players has hinged on this one man (well perhaps 2 if you include Wayne Rooney having a sulk throughout the Summer). The fact that this deal has been drawn out until the last knockings means that there are 2 or 3 Real Madrid players who may now find themselves surplus to requirements, if they are then offloaded then the knock-on effect will be extended to other clubs and other players. The log jam that this one move has created could mean that the next couple of days before the closing deadline could see some high profile players changing clubs at over-inflated prices as clubs are forced to make some last minute enforced adjustments. This may be exciting to headline writers but I doubt that it is good for the game, the players, the managers, the supporters or the club chairman. (Never thought I would feel sorry for a football club chairman). 

 

Golden balls, golden falls

My love affair with football has always been a rocky relationship, at its best it is one of the greatest forms of entertainment around, yet the off field antics leave a lot to be desired.

It dismays me the amount of money afforded on the game. People talk of it now being a game for bored businessmen, but how many businesses could survive the way many of the clubs are run these days.

As an armchair supporter with a love of good football but no particular club affiliation I deplore the way that the game has been hijacked by greedy agents and accountants. It is understandable that a player may wish to further his career and enhance his family's financial well-being but I do wonder about the wisdom and motivations of some of the transfers that have taken place over recent seasons.

With new sponsorship deals in the offering for next season and a new tranche of TV money in the pipeline, as well as new FIFA financial guidelines coming in to force, I would expect there to be a number of clubs looking to offload their 'dead wood' and bolster their squads with new blood.

For those players looking to secure a lucrative deal I would urge a note of caution. There are a great many players at the top level whose performances would not appear to justify the hefty price tag that their club have had to pay.

The lure of joining a large club may be appealing but look how often it has paid off. Apart from Cristian Ronaldo, Robin Van Persie and Xabi Alonso how many top players have been able to take their form from one top club to another?

Was Thiery Henry able to re-produce his form after his move from Arsenal? How about David Beckham, Michael Owen, Andy Carroll, Emanuel Adebayor, Dimitar Berbatov, Samir Nasri, Cesc Fabregas or Fernando Torres. These are not players who left the club where they made their name in order to maximise their earning potential towards the end of their playing careers. In some cases there has been a desire by the club to recoup on their investment by selling an individual but in many cases it has been the player who has been wooed away by the prospect of greater success.

Arsenal above all clubs have a reputation for selling their top players and given their wage structure it is possible to understand why other big clubs would be hungry to entice players away. Equally, a manager may find it difficult to get the best out of a player once he has made clear his desire to leave the club.

From a fans perspective I admire the likes of Ryan Giggs, Frank Lampard, Paul Scholes and Steve Gerrard, who have remained with one club and produced high level performances year after year.

Undoubtedly the top prize come the Summer will be Gareth Bale, especially if Tottenham don't secure the 4^th Championship league spot. He is already in the sites of several of the top international clubs, if he does leave then I would hope he does go on to greater things but as history shows making a name for yourself at one club is no guarantee that you will achieve the same success elsewhere. The grass may look greener on another pitch but as any groundsman will tell you it is only an optical illusion.

Soccer Suffrage

So England's dear ladies have taken a leaf out of their male counterpart's book and crashed out of the world cup on penalties. Those of you have read any of my ramblings on the subject of our national team in almost any sport will appreciate that I am usually underwhelmed by our lack of achievement, whether it be a friendly against the Faroe Isles or a major championship.

Normally our lacklustre performances are put down to tiredness, lack of preparation time, undertraining, overtraining, poor pitch, bad weather, wrong type of equipment, biased refereeing, injury or absence of key players, food poisoning, unsuitable hotel facilities, partisan crowds or plain bad luck – in effect, any old excuse so long as it doesn't equate to lack of talent.

When I used to go to the park with a few of my mates after school for a kick around we didn't spend our time rolling about in the mud in feigned agony then march off expecting to receive shed loads of cash and a modelling contract for our effort, which seems to be the overwhelming objective for any professional sportsman/woman these days.

Of course times have changed, sport is big business these days, especially the TV rights. I grew up in an era of 'Pot Black' and 'World of Sport' – 'Pot Black' – one frame of snooker once a week, primarily scheduled to take advantage of the latest technological breakthrough, colour television. Who can forget Dickie Davies wiggling his quiff with glee at the delight of the World Kite Flying or barrel rolling championships. Who would have thought that the likes of snooker and darts would have become such money-spinners for both participants and promoters.

More recently cricket has tried to grab a slice of the action with the extensive promotion of 20 over cricket. As a cricketing traditionalist I detest this bastardisation of the glorious game, though I can see how it is a far more attractive proposition to sponsors and merchandisers.

Having dipped in and out of the Women's Soccer World Cup throughout the tournament it is plain to see how desperate the TV moguls and sponsors are to raise the profile of the women's game. Previously Women's international games have been the preserve of highlights only shown after 11pm on BBC2. This year, not only have we seen international matches on BBC1 at prime time but also the women's cup final and even the occasional live club game.

At the risk of offending a great many people I fear to suggest that there is a degree of desperation about the whole project – Where the public are being asked to buy into the concept of this latest 'cash cow', I am still seeing 'Dead Donkey', and judging from opinions around the offices I have visited lately I do not appear to be alone in my view.

I hear that it the fastest growing sport in this country, there's a new professional league and that the women's game is huge in the USA, but I still find it virtually unwatchable after only 5 minutes; I've even been known to switch channels to watch the fishing programme (it was a very bad day).

Don't get me wrong, I welcome the participation of both men and women in sport, especially at a professional level, where achievements can be so inspirational to youngsters, but when it comes to soccer there is something definitely not right and I cannot put my finger on what it is.

If you consider the likes of tennis, gymnastics, athletics, hockey, judo – women display incredible strength, stamina, dexterity, determination, control and skill but put them on a football pitch and they look like a herd of stampeding wilderbeest. Originally I thought it might be a team game issue, but I don't think that is where the problem lies, hockey after all is a team game. My recollections of hockey are that it is not a game for the feint-hearted of either sex, so I don't consider gentility to be the problem either.

Steffi Graf used to glide around a tennis court, Martina Navratilova had a delicate touch to her game and Maria Sharapova manages to make her gangly 6' 2” frame appear elegant when she plays (even if she does grunt too much). I reserve judgement on the Williams sisters – they are just scary.

Many female athletes demonstrate dexterity that would lead you to believe they do not have a single bone in their body, often at the same time displaying strength that is way out of step with their perceived physique.

Women's cricket used to be plagued by immobility. There was often more rigidity in the players than there was in the bat they wielded like an axe. Thankfully the game has now moved on and there is a healthy athleticism about the modern game that would put some of the male players to shame.

I still come back to football – there is something about the way many of the female players move, the way they kick the ball that is different. When Wayne Rooney kicks a ball it looks as if he has been kicking a ball all his life, when most of the top women players kick a ball it looks as if they have their boots on the wrong feet, or at least they've still got their platforms on. Please don't tell me it's the boots - I can't see how the presence of a few studs on the sole of a shoe could affect the ability of a woman to kick a football. Women's feet are generally hardened through years of abuse, and given their predilection for high heels you would imagine that their sense of balance would be greater than a man's. (A picture of Gareth Southgate in stilettos just entered my head, not a nice thought and not a great penalty taker either).

The goal celebrations in the men's game do not sit well with me, I have never been keen on the hugging and kissing, let alone the acrobatics and robotic dancing. You would have thought it would have been different in the women's game but I regret to say that their antics don't do much for me either.

Many years ago I was invited to attend a women's rugby international match, and since it was a nice day I accepted the offer to stand on the touchline of a private sports ground in South London. Strangely the game was very watchable. I can't remember who was playing (I have a suspicion that it was the South Africans, but I could be wrong) or who won but the style of play was not dissimilar from the male's game. The girls got stuck in, tackled hard, passed well and ran purposefully when they had the ball. There were no tears, no screaming or squealing, no punch-ups and tries were celebrated with a polite handshake, a wave to a friend in the crowd and an appreciative ripple of applause from the couple of hundred people who had turned up to watch.

I am not so much of an armchair sports fan that I would consider purchasing a Sky sports package, I mourn the loss of so many sports to the digital channels and would deplore the concept of barrel rolling ever making a resurgence on terrestrial TV. Sadly, until the standard of women's soccer improves it will forever remain a minority interest sport for me, one that is welcome to that 11pm slot on BBC2.

World Cup Fever

Much as I love all sports, especially those involving a ball of any shape or size, I can’t help but be under-whelmed by the prospect of the upcoming Soccer World Cup.

My memories of 1966 are still vivid. The family racing down the A21 in an overloaded Wolseley 1500 in order to reach the camp site on the South Coast in time to set up our black and white TV before the final kicked off. 2 young boys, mum and dad, my sister, still a babe in arms, our luggage, groceries and a TV set the size of a modern washing machine. Even with a roof rack that is still quite a feat.

History has proved how difficult a task it will be to recapture the excitement of that day. Over the years my view of the World Cup has become jaded by indifferent performances from England teams of supposed world beaters. Looking back to 1966 those were naïve times which regrettably will never be repeated. The game itself has changed, the way it is played and marketed is as different as a modern family car is to a Wolseley 1500.

For me the tournament is no longer the festival of football that it purports to be. Accountants and broadcasters have been fattening the golden goose year on year, teasing out ever larger eggs with each successive tournament. This is nothing exclusive to football, most professional sports have gone, or are going, the same way. Rugby seems to spend most of its time in the gutter for one misdemeanour or another, as does motor sport and cycling. Snooker and darts, if they can be called sports, have lost their way and cricket in all its dubious forms is becoming a joke.

I have no problem with sportsmen and women taking advantage of every legal opportunity to enhance their earnings in what is for most of them a short career. I am delighted for Peter Crouch that he can be paid to kick a crisp carton into a litter bin, I just wish his attempts with a ball in front of goal were equally as productive.

Back in 1966, managers, the likes of Bill Shankley, Matt Busby, Bill Nicholson, Harry Catterick, Ron Greenwood and Jock Stein, were ‘the club’ – I can’t recall the name of a single club chairman from that period. Nowadays the chairman or owner(s) appear to be grabbing more of the headlines than the players.

I don’t doubt the pride that any player would feel when pulling on the shirt for their country but with so many millionaires strutting their stuff on the global stage I worry that on occasions the commitment might be tempered by the split loyalties of club and country. No doubt accountants will be pawing over the club books as chairmen wince nervously at every mis-timed tackle.

Yes, there was commercialisation in the 60’s but nothing on the scale that we are likely to see over the next few weeks. Players may be fitter these days but you needed to be tough in those days. Remember, there was only 1 substitute allowed (or reserve as the 12^th man used to be called), no water bottles, steel toe-caps, metal studs and none of this falling over in the box if a player so much as brushed your expensively coiffeured hair.

If your side had already used their reserve player and you took a knock then even concussion or a broken leg was frowned on as a valid excuse for leaving the field of play.

Players were not rotated or rested because they were exhausted having played 10 games in a month. I recall reading that in one year Pele played in over 150 games, including friendly and exhibition matches. Thankfully that sort of exploitation has now disappeared from the game.

It is sad to see such a large percentage of the available seats being earmarked for corporate clients, sponsors and the press and can only hope that these people at least have the decency to utilise their allocation at some of the less attractive games. There will undoubtedly be a great atmosphere at all of the games, if for no other reason than the wretched vuvuzela horns. Infuriating as these things are I would rather see 60,000+ fans blowing their lungs out than a half empty stadium.

Watching the sports / news channels at any time, night or day, over the past 2 months reminds me of the old chestnut of how many electricians does it take to change a lightbulb. There are ex-players and D-list celebrities, long since forgotten, appearing on all manner of programmes drunk on the hype for this tournament. On the one hand you have the BBC, Sky, etc. pleading poverty and at the same time they are sending huge teams of reporters and camera crew to cover every detail of the occasion from the England plane leaving Heathrow and arriving in South Africa to what colour towels are being provided at the team hotel. Is anyone really interested in hearing the views of some junior reporter and/or pundit giving feedback of the half-time atmosphere from a sweaty Soweto bar surrounded by a group of bemused locals. Having gorged their expense accounts to excess on the frenzy of the election TV executives will have been wracking their brain to find any tenuous link that would justify their programmes presence in South African during the World Cup. Can we expect to see Songs of Praise from Cape Town? Why not Bargain Hunt or one of the many cookery offerings.

It would be nice to think that the 2010 World Cup will be remembered for some amazing skills on the pitch from the likes of Torres, Messi, Ronaldo or Rooney – my fear is that the success of the tournament will be measured by the amount of TV sets, Satellite packages, razor blades, cars, household goods, cans of beer, replica kits and memorabilia sold on the back of the event.

Just think, in 6 weeks time it will all be over, and we will just have another 3 months of re-runs and analysis to look forward to. I am sure that by that stage I will be so sickened by the ceaseless procession of footballing clichés being thrown at me from every angle that I shall have a long list of candidates that would warrant a vivuzela being forcibly inserted where the sun does not shine.