Shorts: Alex Signs New Deal, Joe Cole Next; JT new Maldini; World Cup Roundup: “You Lot Take it Up the Arse”

Wise … has joined to help promote the Buckinghamshire club’s community initiatives. Chalfont St Peter are second in the Spartan South Midlands Premier League.

[A] club statement said that “his involvement will be purely on the community side, he will not, in any way, be involved with the football side.” Wise added that he was “proud to be part of this”.

It is no good complaining about the behaviour of corporate charlatans in your house, if your own rules allow them through the door in the first place.

What is needed is a uniform test for both bodies to apply before any deal is done. If investors are not prepared to be transparent then they don’t get to be investors; it is fairly simple.

To those who claim this might put off investors you have to ask: what would be the motive of someone who seeks anonymity?

“Yes I was a bit surprised,” said the England head coach. “I just thought it was like Obama getting the Nobel Peace Prize after eight months as President of the United States. He gets the man of the match after 30 minutes here …

“What impresses me about Beckham is that whether he comes on for 20 minutes, 50 minutes, half an hour or at half-time, he plays well and is always focused. Some players have problems when they come on as substitutes. Beckham always plays well, though.”

Beckham mania descended into certifiable lunacy on Wednesday as England’s bit-part celebrity was named the man of a match to which he made a lesser contribution than the ball boys.

The award insulted the rest of England’s team by celebrating a man who did not come on until the last half hour, yet barely had the puff to reach the final whistle.

This plumbed depths lower than the bestowing of token substitute appearances which has given Beckham the most international caps of any outfield player in England history.

Fabio Capello’s latest gift to the country has been to grant it some scope for grumbling. Following England’s defeat in Ukraine there was a win over Belarus that was flecked with imperfections. No one can have left Wembley with the notion that the side is on the verge of greatness and nitpicking would have occupied many people on their journey home.

It’s the past — one World Cup triumph and many tragedies big and small — that is England’s burden. The World Cup victory of 1966 is fetishized here. At the World Cup in Germany in 2006 the English team wore replicas of the shirts worn by the triumphant 1966 team. It was 40 years later, the timing fit, and all that. And then “it,” the English cockiness, fizzled out, as it always does.

[…]

English soccer has reached its natural, second-tier level, a fact masked by the European Champions League club success of Manchester United, Chelsea and Liverpool. All three teams are packed with great players, but from Germany, Portugal, Holland and Spain. The idea of the current England squad being an equal of Germany and Italy is farcical. Most players for England’s national team are overrated and overpaid but the news media here is over the moon about them. Most lack discipline, exceptional skills and cunning. Tellingly, few ever succeed when playing for European clubs. Some have done it — Beckham and Owen at Real Madrid. But most, one suspects, are simply afraid of the rigors of playing in Spain or Italy.

The lyric to the Gershwin song about doubting Thomases of another age was swimming around in my mind as I tried to remain positive about having to watch the Ukraine v England match at the weekend on my computer.

And so I logged in, or rather I did in the fullness of time. Not being the most computer literate I was only able to join the match when England were already a goal and a man down, but the fault was my incompetence not the provider’s.

He wanted to dedicate the triumph to the fans back home and especially those who bothered to cross into Uruguay, to his girls Dalma and Giannina, and to his squad, who worked like never before for the 1–0 result. “But certain people who have not supported me, and you know who you are, can keep sucking,” he added.

Grotesque and undignified, Maradona then grabbed his genitals with both hands, signalling some sort of manly insult to the TV cameras in the tunnel outside the dressing room.

[A]s Denmark’s first great side, they were subject to the peculiar kind of goodwill, gratitude and unconditional love that only occurs when you are exploring virgin territory. There was none of the wearying cynicism, complacency and expectation that accompanies modern football. This was an intoxicating red-and-white fairytale. The commentator Svend Gehrs, Denmark’s answer to John Motson in the 80s, hit the nail on the head when, seconds after Denmark had qualified for the semi-finals of Euro 84, he described them as “this unconquerable team of optimists”.