A couple of weeks ago I read an interesting commentary piece in The Times, which looked at how former players are liable to be drawn into big jobs too quickly, only to be shown the door within months when a string of poor results betrays their lack of experience.   Unsurprisingly, the article focused on Paul Ince’s less than auspicious start to top flight management with struggling Blackburn (and this written before a further three defeats on the spin).   Yet for me, it flagged more broadly the double-edged sword of being a manager in the Premier League.  After all, it’s not just the young guns who fall foul of Dickinson’s ‘Unforgiving System’ - the recent experiences of Sven Goran Erikkson, Sam Allardyce and Juande Ramos all highlight the vast rewards to be had and the often inexplicably quick descent into ignominy to be suffered. 

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/columnists/matt_dickinson/article5226678.ece

Long story short, the article (link above) got me thinking about another EFP entry and I started to put some words to the page.  I didn’t get very far, for one reason or another, but a number of things have sparked this more determined attempt to get something away, with Roy Keane’s departure from Sunderland chief among them.

Roy Keane’s decision to walk away from Sunderland, although not unexpected after the barely concealed deterioration of relationships in the dressing room, is not easy to categorise.  It is ironic really – many Premier League managers would surely love to have a Chairman in the mould of Niall Quinn, who was prepared to offer Keane both funds and time.  Certainly, the pressure that seemed to encircle Keane of late did not appear to come from the Board room.  Until recently, it looked as though management had tamed some of Keane’s more reckless impulses.  Last Thursday’s events (not to mention the post mortem that followed in the next day’s back pages) suggested otherwise.  Sir Alex Ferguson’s implicit suggestion that Keane might not return to management appears astute.   Whatever the root cause of the enigmatic Irishman’s fall from grace, one thing is for sure – club management in the Premier League is a ‘very precarious industry.’

Niall Quinn - looks like a nice Chairman; is a nice Chairman

Easy for Ferguson to say (I was 2 weeks shy of my 3^rd Birthday when Ferguson took to the helm at Old Trafford)!  For Sam Allardyce, who (once upon a time) had a job for life at The Reebok, such wisdom would doubtless be harder to utter.  Fast approaching a full year without employment, Allardyce has somehow found himself on the manager’s scrap heap.  Indeed, given the brevity of his stay in the North East, it is safe to assume that this extended period of gardening leave is not of Big Sam’s own design.  Rather, his widely perceived failure to have an impact at Newcastle – a so-called ‘big club’ – has left his reputation in tatters.  Well, that and his uncompromising approach to the beautiful game.  If it’s good enough for the Trotters, the current logic goes, then it’s not good enough for the rest of us.  Sunderland may take a different view but they are unlikely to offer Allardyce quite the lucrative contract that he received up the road (thought to be worth up to $12m!). 

Whenever Allardyce does gain reemployment – and it surely will happen eventually, whether with the Mackems or not , it is far from certain that Paul Ince will still be an opposite number.  Ince sees his fate inextricably linked to that of his old team mate Roy Keane.  Interestingly, however, according to the Guv’nor this has less to do with the fact that their respective clubs (former or otherwise) are in the relegation zone than it does with a suspected plot (masterminded by whom, it is not clear) to see them both fail.  Quite how Ince came to this conclusion is anyone’s guess but certainly this response rings far truer:

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/columnists/martin_samuel/article5304254.ece

I particularly enjoyed the quip about the bottom line in football – ‘there are three teams below it and each has a manager with good reason to be nervous.’  That said, and returning to the earlier article, Samuel’s view is a bit too black and white (no pun intended) in that it fails to offer any insight into why it is that Blackburn are languishing in the bottom three.  The induction to Premier League management is testing at the best of times but in Blackburn – a club who had just lost an excellent coach who had brought stability and (arguably) over achievement to the club – the task facing Ince looked daunting from day one.  And as Samuel did point out, Hull’s magnificent start to the season (and we shouldn’t forget Stoke, who also continue to far exceed expectation) hasn’t helped matters.  Nor Tottenham’s continuing renaissance!!  I apologise - Jamie O’Hara has just (literally)put Spurs 2-0 up at West Ham and what do you know, the conversation has already turned to Zola’s future.  (Incidentally, Steve Claridge – who gives Mark Lawrenson a good run for his money in the uninspiring stakes - earlier tipped Sam Allardyce for the Sunderland post). 

Lawro - his enthusiasm for the beautiful continues to bring joy to all

Zola, arguably even more so than Ince, is another newbie struggling to keep his head above water.  Is this because the diminutive Italian does not have what it takes?  Or is it due to a lack of experience?  Indeed, Zola’s managerial résumé makes for light reading, his only substantive experience (if you can call it that) coming via a two year stint spent as Pierluigi Casiraghi’s assistant with the Italian U21 side.  However, events off the pitch have not played into Zola’s favour (West Ham, more than most, are feeling the pinch of the credit crunch) and it is not incomprehensible that Zola has, in the Hammers, simply picked a rotten apple.  In all likelihood, it is a combination of all of the above and unless something gives soon Zola is unlikely to have either a merry Christmas or a happy New Year.

On a slight tangent, a few hours after I read the Dickinson article I spent a not entirely pleasant evening at the Galpharm.  A sure contender for the worst named stadium in English football (and very unbecoming for it is actually a fine example of modern architecture), the Galpharm is home to the once mighty Huddersfield Town. 

The Galpharm - better than it sounds (thank God)

Yes indeed, in the 1920s Huddersfield won the top division not once, not twice but on three back to back occasions.  On today’s evidence you would never know it.  On the evening in question, they lost 1-0 to Leyton Orient.  Yet it is perhaps the memory of better days past that has underpinned the moderately high turnover of recent managers at the club.  Lee Clark, appointed this week, is the club’s eighth permanent manager in the past decade and the third of this year.  I mention this (and those of you hot on your skysports news will note that Clark was appointed a good 36 hours after O’Hara’s rather delightful strike) because it perhaps serves as a timely reminder that young managers, particularly those who played at the highest level, do not have to cut their teeth at the top. 

In fairness, Paul Ince spent at least some time in the lower leagues.  However, given his age (he is the managing equivalent of Theo Walcott) and the incredible pressure that comes with being a Premier League manager in today’s game, I can’t help but wonder whether (almost) two full seasons was long enough.  The problem faced by Ince, Zola, Adams, Keane, etc., is that, unlike young players, there is no safety net for them when they fail to deliver the goods.  The Board won’t remove a manager from the firing line for a few games why he rebuilds his confidence.  Of course, the lure of the Premier League is massive and none more so than for those players whose distinguished careers helped define it.  It is perhaps no coincidence that ‘lesser’ players (and I say that with all due respect) such as Colin Calderwood, Jim Magilton, Simon Grayson, Mark Robins and now Lee Clark are operating, for the time being at least, outside of the Premier League.  Three of those have served one club for over two years.  It is speculative, for sure, but perhaps Ince and co would have been better served showing similar patience.

Simon Grayson - The former Villa player is now in his 4th year as Blackpool boss

Not one to deliberately ignore the other side of the coin, I cannot deny that such a view can be overly prescriptive and, worse, unwarranted.  Take Mark Hughes and Gareth Southgate.  Southgate especially has thrown himself in at the deep end but by and large he is doing ok.  Hughes’ time at Wales was doubtless of great value but the Welshman’s assimilation into club management at the highest level was nonetheless impressive.  And at the other end of the spectrum, let us not forget Big Sam - left out in the cold, having more than held his own in the Premier League for six seasons with Bolton after orchestrating the club’s passage to the top flight.  The Sunderland job may yet be his but a week is a long time in football (have I said this before … ) and there is a sense that if he was perceived to be the right man for the job that it would be his already.  I wonder what went through his mind when he heard that Juande Ramos had been appointed Real Madrid’s new manager …

Allardyce - have we seen the last of Big Sam?

Dermot O'leary and the X-factor gang

This year’s X Factor final takes place next weekend, coincidentally enough, twelve days before Christmas. And, I’m having a nightmare deciding what to write my next EFP article about. So, this is a precursor to what will be my final article of 2008 from the soon-to-be-no-longer Capital of Culture… in which I’d like you the viewer to vote for your favourite idea and I’ll run with that.

Do you see what I did there?

Now I know what some of you will be thinking, this is another post-modern nod to writer’s block a la Spike Jonze’s excellent Adaptation, or an ironic comment on the reality tv / talent show format that has been so prevalent on our screens, magazine covers and lips during staff room discussions over the past decade.

And you’d be mostly right.

However, I’ve been a mostly good boy this year so feel I deserve the chance to be helped to make a tough decision. Cheryl Cole is not the only bridge between X Factor and footy, I promise you. Come with me as we run down the finalists in contention for the coveted prize of Winning Article Idea, December 2008, and revisit a popular old classic Christmas song in the process!

NB If any of you decide to stop reading now, or choose not to pass comment, that’s ok, I’ll simply follow the outcome of the ‘real’ X Factor results. Have a great holiday and prosperous, healthy new year anyway.

1. A partridge in a Pear Tree = Eoghan

This article goes back eighteen years, eighteen years, as December 29th will be the eighteenth anniversary of my first ever Everton match, a 2-0 victory over Derby County at Goodison Park. In this article I will delve into my and my father’s memories of the match. I was eleven at the time, but probably looked older that Eoghan at the time.

Eoghan represents the 18 years since my first Everton match - YIKES!

2. Two Turtle Doves = Alexandra

This young lady is my favourite to win, and as Louis says (to Simon’s concurring nod) she is the most talented performer. What I think is my best article idea would be a commentary on football at Christmas in general, and the tradition thereof. Orange balls, programme pullouts, presents under the tree, Father Christmas in club colours, that sort of thing. Given the festive mood people are beginning to feel, I think this may be the winner too.

Is Alexandra as good as Leona? I think so.

3. Three French Hens = Diana

Last night during the Five Live commentary on Burnley’s victory over Arsenal, Alan Green made a joke about Diana’s legs being a more appealing option that Mark ‘Lawro’ Lawrenson on MOTD. Now I think this is mildly controversial on several levels, but the fact remains Diana is for many an attractive proposition given her Cranberries flavoured warbling and ‘cool’ lack of dancing. She could almost be French – all sultry, alternative, Vanessa Paradis-esque… until you hear her talk and she’s from Blackburn.

The furore over her laryngitis-influenced week off makes her the ideal link person to attach my Christmas theme to the X Factor and subsequently an article on sicknote footballers. Louis Saha has been a breath of fresh air since signing for Everton, despite three lay-offs with injury, however I want to focus attention on the forgotten man of the team photo currently hanging behind my computer screen – one Andy van der Meyde.

Andy who? Van der Meyde has rarely featured since signing for Everton

4. Four Calling Birds = JLS

Please don’t think I’m confused, I know that JLS are not ‘birds’ in the girl sense of the words that young men are wont want to use when referencing members of the opposite sex, (and by the older generation adding the prefix ‘dolly’ at times, etc) No, I just thought there’s four of them, they like their colours (aficionados of the X Factor will know but others of you may not, that JLS have their own individual colours, and even when wearing all white, the soles of their shoes match their identity colour) and they are, like the four apostles the calling birds are said to signify, actually men.

JLS would be my group choice - but you decide?

This article would be a ‘group’ too, a list of significant events from the past twelve months in the form of a review.

The choice is yours.

So, audience, please do try to imagine me as Dannii Minogue, sat behind a desk trying not to look worried as events in front of her unfold out of her control. You can make your choice by adding a comment in the box below… then watch this space.

And have yourselves a merry Little Christmas.

In my first contribution to this site, a fortnight ago now, I used Tottenham Hotspur’s John Bostock as a portal to explore some of the issues surrounding young English players in today’s game.  And it would be fair to say that the overall tone of the piece was negative.  Well, one week (or two … ) is a long time in football …

John Bostock becomes youngest ever player for Spurs

Within 48 hours of The Youth Today being posted, Bostock made a small piece of history, becoming the youngest ever player to represent the club at first team level as he came on for the latter stages of the 4-0 UEFA Cup win over Dinamo Zagreb. He’s unlikely to become a first team regular anytime soon (he didn’t make the bench in this week’s Carling Cup tie against Liverpool) but it was nevertheless a welcome surprise and an exciting development. And, one can but hope, a sign of things to come. Certainly that was the message coming from the irrepressible Harry Redknapp. Speaking on the eve of the fixture, Redknapp’s enthusiasm for youth development was tangible - “I’d love to start getting some kids coming out of the youth team and into the first team. That would be the ultimate, the long-term aim.” Great news for Spurs fans.

However, it wasn’t events at the Lane that prompted me to pick up where I left off. Instead, it was a thought provoking blog that focused on the other lot from North London.

The blog I am referring to was written by the BBC’s chief football writer, Phil McNulty, and focused on the homegrown talent that this week propelled Arsenal to yet another League Cup quarter final (their 6^thin as many years). Those who read my last blog (and presumably there weren’t many Gooners among you) will recall that I was quick to dismiss Arsenal’s youngsters as being sickeningly gifted but largely foreign and/or bought. Well, it turns out I was wrong. Click below to find out why:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/philmcnulty/2008/11/could_wenger_shape_new_england.html

I stand corrected.

My final thought on how quickly things can change in football brings me back (only briefly, I promise) to White Hart Lane.  Was it really just three weeks ago that Spurs were impressively self-imploding at the Britannia Stadium, marooned to the foot of the table with a disastrous 2 points from 8 games and having managed to score just 5 league goals?  Unbelievable.  I’m still in a state of shock and I suspect I’m not the only one – just ask Rafa Benitez.  A victory at Craven Cottage this weekend and Spurs could find themselves gracing the top half of the table, some 10 months ahead of schedule.  How can one explain this extraordinary turnaround?  Without doubt, Redknapp must take significant credit for the way he has galvanised a squad that, quite literally, had hit rock bottom. But to fully understand Spurs’ incredible ascendancy, one must look further afield.

Outside of the top four – who, while not on imperious form this year, look collectively as untouchable as ever – it is difficult to recollect a time when the playing field has been so level.  Now, first of all, I should put my hands up and confess that my footballing knowledge goes back no further than the inaugural season of the Premier League.  Consequently, it is entirely possible that what we are seeing currently was the norm in the good ‘ole days and I am simply none the wiser.  For me though, what is so remarkable about the current season to date is the fact that I cannot recall anything quite like it.  Not wanting to be caught short twice in as many weeks (Jay Simpson who?), I thought I’d better cover my back and do some digging (if you ever find yourself at a loose end and/or really, really bored, www.statto.com could keep you entertained for hours) and, as a result, I can share the following: 

Currently, a mere 9 points is all that separates West Brom in 20^th (11 points) from Aston Villa in 5^th (20 points).  At the same stage last season, 18 points separated 20^th from 5^th.  In 2006-07 it was 13 points, 15 in 2005-06 and, leaping a further decade back to when the top flight was trimmed to its present 20 places, 18 points (again) in 1995-96.  Also, never before in the Premier League’s short history has the basement club been in double figures after 12 games.  Nottingham Forest, for the anoraks, came the closest back in ’92, with 9 points.  In the four previous campaigns used above, the gap between 17^th and 10^th places averaged 8 points.  This season, that gap is just 2 points.

(Brian Clough - Notts Forest) 9 points boys - it's going to be a good year!

So what does it all mean?  Well, ultimately, time will tell.  It’s still relatively early days and I for one would not be overly surprised to see a slow return to ‘business as usual’ in the coming weeks and months and, come May, a far more typical, dispersed table.  But the alternative, and very feasible at this point in time, is a relegation battle like none seen in recent times.  I think it might have been Harry Redknapp (I know, I really do need to broaden my horizons) who earlier this week said that there are 14 teams fighting the drop this year.  Fourteen!!  That number might be a bit generous but there really are an unusual number of teams with legitimate cause for concern.  West Brom, Stoke, Bolton, Fulham, Blackburn, Sunderland, Fulham, Newcastle, West Ham and Wigan all look capable of getting relegated, as things stand.  I haven’t included Spurs or Man City in that list and I don’t think it’s difficult to see why.  Hull have lost three on the bounce and could find themselves looking over their shoulder sooner rather than later and I would think Pompey fans might also be a little nervy while Tony Adams settles into his new role.   Middlesbrough are possibly the least quantifiable team in the whole league – atrocious one week and decent the next.  Which leaves Everton and Villa.  Both teams’ supporters might be slightly underwhelmed by progress this season but sleepless nights are not expected.

Returning once more to the BBC website, a few minutes spent with this little diversion and I can put the above to the test.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/eng_prem/predictor/default.stm

Not wanting to spend all night at it, I kept to a simple process of using only 1-0, 1-1 and 0-1 score lines.  On this basis, my final Premier League table looked like this:

1. Chelsea - 99
2. Man Utd - 90
3. Liverpool - 90
4. Arsenal - 79
5. Spurs - 60
6. Everton - 55
7. Man City - 54
8. Villa - 54
9. Blackburn - 43
10. Wigan - 41
11. Fulham - 40
12. Portsmouth - 38
13. Sunderland - 38
14. Bolton - 37
15. Hull - 36
16. West Ham - 36
17. Newcastle - 34
18. Middlesbrough - 34
19. Stoke - 29
20. West Brom - 29 

How on earth did I manage to relegate Middlesbrough?  I’m also a bit disappointed to have steered Spurs to a top 5 finish – I hoped I was more objective than that!  Those aberrations aside though, I would stand by broad elements of this table.  For example, I do think that the teams finishing 5^th-8^th have the quality to pull away from the rest (without getting anywhere near the top four) but perhaps not in quite such a clear cut manner.  And Stoke (apologies to the editor) and West Brom probably are the two teams most likely to find themselves adrift at the bottom.  I’d probably bump Newcastle up a place or two – maybe in a straight swap with Sunderland – but other than that I think it’s credible.

At the very least, my version of events certainly bears out the possibility of an unconventionally large relegation fight. It could be a long season for many but a mouth watering prospect for the rest of us …

In a follow up to ‘Greatest English League XI’ (which received a massive response - thanks), I will shortly publish a feature on the ‘Greatest Irish players’ ever to grace/influence the great English game.

Liam Brady - Arsenal and Irish playmaker

In the meantime, I would greatly appreciate everyone, including EFP members and EFP writers, to please leave me your comments, on who you think deserves a place in The English Football Post’s ‘Greatest Irish XI’? Your opinions and comments will be taken hugely into consideration in my imminent blog feature. And I promise this one won’t be as long, if the last one bored the pants off you.

Thanks,

Tim

1. Gordon Banks (Goalkeeper) 

Gordon Banks produces the greatest save of all time from Pelé of Brazil

Widely considered by his colleagues to be the best of all time. He was certainly the best goalie ever to grace the English League. Banks demoralised strikers all over the world, as they watched him claw out, otherwise certain goals. His cat-like agility has never been matched. 

Not massive, he was a superb shot stopper, had great hands (mostly without gloves!) and came out of goal faster than a speeding bullet. ‘That save’(pictured above) from Pelé, when Pelé had already shouted goal; his world cup winning performances in ‘66′; and his League Cup victory with his beloved Stoke City in 72; will never be forgotten.

What people often overlook, is that Bank’s career was cut short whilst still in its prime. A car crash shortly after that Stoke cup victory damaged his retina, forcing him to retire prematurely. He’d recently been awarded the FA’s prestigious ‘Player of the Year’ award and had many years left in him. Who knows what he would’vegone onto achieve? Nevertheless, Banks went out at the very top, and will always be remembered as the best there ever was. 

2. Jimmy Armfield (Right-back)

Jimmy Armfield of England goes up against Garrincha of Brazil in 1962

Again, very highly thought of throughout the football world and among his fellow professionals. This tenacious, tough tackling right back was extremely quick and possessed a thunderbolt shot. Captained England before being succeeded by Moore, he spent 17 years with Blackpool, playing alongside both Matthews and Alan Ball. This loyalty was typical of the man, an evergreen model professional.

He was voted in the best team in the world by a Chilean newspaper, after his performances in 1962 World Cup, however, like teammate Matthews, his International career was unfortunately blighted by the war. An ever-present in the England team prior to our greatest moment, ‘66′ came a little too late for Jimmy, and this is probably the reason why he is so often overlooked when it comes to these sorts of things.

Jimmy was a wingback before they were even invented, a professional before professionals, and a gentleman among gentlemen; and he even smoked a pipe. Sorry Neville! (Gary)

3. Stuart Pearce (Left-back) 

Stuart 'Pyscho' Pearce England's most feared left-back

Equally combative and committed, ‘Psycho’, as far as left-backs go, was the best in the business. Physicaland passionate, Pearce was also great when going forward, possessing a left-peg that was lethal.

He was one of the few players who could grab the game by the scruff of the neck (not to mention a few opponents along the way!). He had that rare ability to lift and inspire his teammates, from depths of despair, to victory, and his enthusiasm was infectious. For Forest and England, Pearce was immense; marauding runs down the flank, blasting in penalties and fierce free kicks. Pearce frightened the life out of the opposition.

Educated by a certain Mr Clough, he was an influential Captain, a tremendous worker and dedicated wholeheartedly to the cause. What made Pearce stand out most, however, was his unbreakable spirit and remarkable courage (Don’t worry Stuart, Man City breaks most men!). Stepping up to score that penalty at Wembley’Euro 96′, after his miss against West Germany in 1990 (pictured above), took enormous guts, and his celebration will inspire all of us for many years to come. Stuart Pearce: football’s one and only brave-heart.  

4. Steven Gerrard (Centre midfield) 

Overwhelmingly backed on our myspace survey, Gerrard is a modern day footballer in every sense of the word, and this could not be ignored. When EFP writer - Jon Greenbank (a self confessed Evertonian)- picks him out, then you know he must be worthy of a place in this team. Liverpool are the envy of every club manager in Europe, and it has been that way for some time now.

Gerrard seems to have been blessed with the lot: Pace, power, skill, tough tackling, good in the air, pinpoint passing, a thunderous shot and has an exceptional scoring record. He represents a new breed of player and is the future of the game. He’s an all-action, never-say-die midfielder, there’s no position he cant play in, and he is idolised by a new generation of wannabe footballers.

It’s becoming customary now, for Gerrard to weigh in with a wonder goal, just when Liverpool needs it most. Cometh the hour, cometh the man. Pundit and former Red, Alan Hansen, summed it up perfectly when he stated Steven Gerrard would getinto any team in the world as no matter what position he plays in he’ll give you a ‘Man of The Match’ performance. Enough said really. 

5. Paul McGrath (Centre-half)

Paul McGrath was a player of immense natural ability

Another contentious decision. If you were lucky enough to see McGrath play then you’ll probably agree he has every right to be here. Again Paul was another who was heavily backed by fans on myspace. He’d probably also be backed by every striker who ever had the misfortune to play against him.

He’s played against the very best and come out on top. Uncompromising and intelligent, on his day Paul had the best in the world in his pocket. Yes, Ferguson got shot of him as soon as he was able, but Fergie would be the first to admit it had nothing to do with his footballing ability. Ferguson is noted in saying, McGrathwas the finest defender you’d ever see in the game but due to his reckless drinking he found him ‘unreachable’. He even offered Paul an early retirement pay off and testimonial. McGrath defiantly refused, and was sold to Aston Villa; where he would later go on to win ‘PFA Player Of The Year’ award in ‘93′, despite being increasingly dogged by troublesome knees.

Paul had everything, yet nearly threw it all away because of his now well-publicised alcohol problems. Dodgy knees constantly plagued his career and at times Paul didn’t even haveto train. However, his innate fitness and natural talent always saw him through. Heavily involved with the Irish national team, McGrathwas a crucial part of the golden era in Irish football. He showed his class in Euro 88 and again in Ireland’s world cup heroics of ‘90′ & ‘94′, putting in innumerable classy performances.

Exceptionally skillful and graceful for a centre-half, he never looked in trouble, was never intimidated, and everything came to him so naturally. It was for these reasons Paul McGrath had to be included.

(Capt.) 6. Bobby Moore (Centre-half) 

Bobby Moore was the quintessential England Captain

No team would be complete without the inclusion of Bobby Moore. This man was a colossus in every sense. No player past or present has ever looked more at home on a football pitch. Moore oozed maturity and sophistication and he shone like a beacon on the field. Not only was he a great reader of the game and a timely tackler he was also technically superb. He had vision only before seen on the continent and his passing was as good as any player ever to have graced the game.

Many will remember those iconic tackles on Pelé et al, but his finest hour undoubtedly came in 1966. If you’ve not seen this game (final Vs West Germany) in full (not bragging but Iv watched it 20 times at least!) then you certainly should. Yes, there were severalbrilliant performances on that glorious day but none finer than Bobby Moores.

Captains were Captains for a reason in those days and that day Moore put in the best Captain’s performance you’re ever likely to see. Yes, Bobby C imposed himself on the game, Nobby snapped, and Ball covered every blade of Wembley grass. Hurst even bagged a hat trick, yetMoore stood out above all of them; winning every header, spraying passes, last ditch tackles, taking free-kicks, setting up goals, mazy dribbles, Moore does it all. Amazingly, he does all this effortlessly, never appearing troubled or breaking sweat.

What stands out most about Booby Moore, is Bobby Moore himself. His technique and style were 20 years ahead of his time and without him we would never have won that tournament. For he was the linchpin, the cornerstone, the integral component, the arhcitect, the genius. Bobby Moore was England’s Captain, and quite possibly, its greatest ever player.   

7. Stanley Matthews (Right wing)

Who else could we have on the wing other than Stan Matthews?

When we think of the pioneers of our beautiful game, then the first player who should pop into our heads, should be Stanley Matthews (God rest his soul). Stan was the first real superstar of modern football, helping the game grow to the great heights it has reached today. He was the leader in every sense of the word, though judging by his mild and humble manner, you would never have guessed it. In many ways he was the first genuine professional.

A strict dietitian and a regimented fitness regime, who says footballers of today are much fitter than those of yesteryear? Stan had natural ability but was a firm believer that his talent needed to be worked upon and preserved. Abstaining from cigarettes and alcohol he broke the trends of his piers. Rising at around 5am every morning with a diet consisting of mainly fruit and vegetables, its no coincidence he became the longest serving footballer, playing on until an incredible 51.

The inaugural European Footballer of the year in 1956, Matthews was astonishingly never booked in his 35-year career. He was the first footballer to be knighted and the only ever to be knighted whilst playing. He was the first to capitalise from wing play and was a wizard with the ball at his feet. He was the first to wear soft leather boots and was the first real flair player. A familiar pattern is starting to emerge isn’t it?  It’s said he got sick before every game due to nerves but this never affected his performances, it just meant so much to him. Amazingly, Matthews only ever won one team trophy; the FA cup with Blackpool (pictured), and his International career was sadly interrupted by the war, when Matthews was in his prime.

The Finney-Matthews debate will go on, outliving you or I. If rumours are to be believed, Finney, dare I admit, was naturally more gifted than Stan, and could play in a variety of positions; but for myself, and most of my writers, Matthews gets the nod for innovation, dedication and for breaking barriers others couldn’t even conprehend.

Having had the pleasure of meeting the great man, you wouldn’t believe his humility and modesty.  He never believed the hype, shyed away from the spotlight and never thought too highly of himself. Here we can give him the recognition he so richly deserves.

Did you know, on his return to Stoke City from Blackpool, he added 27,000 people on the attendance that day, at the tender age of 46; pure madness I tell you! It brings a whole new meaning to term ‘appearance bonus’. Could there be anyone else on the wing other than Stanley Matthews: the absolute Sportsman? Not a notion, ‘Come On Stan!’ 

8. Paul Gascoigne (Centre midfield)

Paul 'Gazza' Gascoigne set Italia 90 alight playing for England

Paul ‘Gazza’ Gascoigne: Troubled genius, serialprankster, borderline madman, quintessential underachiever, and more besides. What People haveto remember was the unbelievable skill and talent this extraordinary man possessed. Again another natural talent, but possibly more skill than these shores have ever produced. England’s very own Geordie Diego Armando if you like, and there’s no finer tribute than that. No player from England has been blessed with the talent of Gasciogne.

Wasted talent, yes, tragedy maybe, but if Gazza was wasted then I dread to think what he might of achieved if he’d stayed sober. An infectious dribbler, creative midfielder, Gazza was an entertainer as much as he was a match winner. Apart from this he was also a born winner with a tremendous drive and an unparalleled enthusiasm for the game. Gazza was never happy unless he had a ball at his feetand this could explain the trouble he’s gone through since retiring. When he did play, boy did he excite, thrill and enthral! Take a look at our myspace to relive some of the Gazza Magic. How could we leave out a man of such precocious talent? Bringing England to within a whisker of both a World Cup and a Euro final, Gascoigne had a nation in the palm of his hand, on the edge of their seats, and on an emotional rolla-coaster.

Anyone who failed to be moved by his tears in Italy, is either a bare face liar, or an emotional cripple. The truth is, Gascoigne was worth the admission fee all by himself, and honestly, how often do you get to say that about any player? Who is English anyway?

9. Kenny Dalglish (Centre forward)

You see, since Shankly, at Liverpool, winning at all costs had become priority. The team was a “bastion of invincibility” first under Shanks and then under Bob Paisley. Fans had never seen anything quite like Kenny before and almost immediately he became an Anfieldicon. He had everything; two great feet, strong on the ball, vision and subtlety in abundance. He proved impossible to mark and even crowd and commentators alike failed to guess which way he would turn next; cameramen at Channel five have experienced a similar problem with himself, Nevin and Barnes!

To be considered great by such a knowledgeable crowd and a club as successful as Liverpool, then surely he must be. Watching Kenny was compelling, mesmerising and addictive, poetry in motion. If you’ve never had the pleasure, then get out the DVD’s, digout the VHS’s and sit back and watch him play. “And (boy) Could He Play!”

 10. Eric Cantona (Centre forward)

Eric 'The King' Cantona widely regarded as the Premiership's greatest ever player

Whatever Dalglish did for Liverpool, Eric Cantona did for Man Utd, and arguebly more. Cantona’s role in United’s revival in the early 90’s cannot be underestimated. Eric became the talisman in a rejuvenated United team, which would go onto dominant English football for the next ten years. Cantona was the fine red wine in Fergie’s ‘Coq au vin’ and galvanised a team lacking in flair and creativity.

Cantona’s move across the Pennines from Leeds to Man United for just £1 million, has to go down as the bargain of all time, and one of the biggest blunders by poor old Leeds Utd. What was Wilkinson thinking? Cantona made an instant impression and was the catalyst in United capturing their first league title in 26 long years. Having been in England for a little over 18 months, Cantona had two league titles to his belt, with two different clubs; not bad for a rebellious, uncontrollable Frenchman! He went on to win many more trophies including two league and cup doubles. But Cantona’s successes are only half the story.

Cantona was an artist and a poet. Like a conductor, he created beautiful music from his young impressionable teammates, theatre without a script, a spectrum of light out of sheer darkness. He pulled the strings, moving in waves of attacks, weaving his artistry with a swagger and an arrogance never seen before on English soils. For years he was the spark in a well-drilled and expansive Ferguson team and turned them from a very good team into a devastating one. It was a love affair for Eric, and was a match made in heaven. Never far from controversy, Cantona was as volatile and passionate as he was brilliant. Ferguson dealt with him as good as anyone could have, and Manchester United reaped the rewards.

Scorer of the spectacular, as well as the uncomplicated, this was detrimental to Cantona’s brilliance. His infamous ‘kung fu kick’ will be forever etched in the memory, but you have to say, he had a point, and at least he had the balls to follow his heart, even if it did mean a lengthy spell on the sidelines. This only adds to the fascination. The notorious bad boy, a resilient Eric would return stronger than ever and completely redeem himself. This was the measure of the man.

‘Eric The King’ was much more than a footballer - football merely provided Eric with an arena, his own stage. He was a philosopher, a rebel, a maverick, a genius and an icon of his generation, and many generations to come. He should be recognised for this.      

11. George Best (Left wing)

In his prime George Best was a genius in every sense of the word

No team would be complete without the inclusion of the legendary George Best. What can one say about George Best that has not been said already? We’ve all heard the stories of his drinking and infamous womanising, and more drinking. But what about the man? Behind the ambiguity; Best was a shy, charming and gentle soul. In other words, misunderstood. His elusiveness only adds to the intrigue and Best’s magic continues to shine. Best is the hero of all cult heroes and his legend will never die. On the football field he was genius, simple as. In life he was a waster, a tragedy before our very eyes. Watching footage of Best, it’s clear he’s a god-given talent, which will never be surpassed.

Was he the greatest player of all time? Probably. But we’ll never fully comprehend why. You see greatness can never really be explained, you’ve either got it or you haven’t, and Georgie Best certainly had it. At times he was breathtaking, as quick as lightening. He glided over quagmires, ghosting past defenders, rounding goalkeepers at a canter. In context, his feet were as quick as Christiano Ronaldo’s, his head sharp as Zidane, but compared to his more rigid competitors Best was in a league all of his own. Of course, it’s all a matter of opinion, but all who saw George play will tell you the same thing; they’d never seen anyone quite like George.

COMING UP NEXT MONTH:

‘GREATEST IRISH XI’ - Leave Us your Comments on who you think is the ‘Greatest Irish XI’ ever to grace the English league. The results will appear here next next month. Click here to get voting!

The following is a letter I wrote but never sent, to a gentleman I sat with on the 10.22 Liverpool Lime Street - Scarborough train, one Saturday last month. If you think you might know him, please add a comment below or get in touch with efp direct…

October 9^th 2008

Dear Huddersfield fan

I’m sorry to address you like that, but I never got your name. You may or may not remember our recent conversation as you travelled to Huddersfield for the match (I was on the way to York for my folks’ anniversary). Our discussion made me think, a lot, inspiring me to write this letter, and to post it on that website I was telling you about.

So, thank you.

We talked at length about many things, didn’t we - and you predicted some events which have since occurred. I was so glad to see the 3-2 victory over Northampton Town that day, especially as your parting words when you disembarked were “if they don’t win today, that’s it…” Therefore I hope you’ve made it back since, even if results haven’t been great.

So many times I’ve said the same - none more so than recently. On the way back to Liverpool the day after our acquaintance, I was embarrassed to cheer Osman’s equaliser away at Hull, as I listened to poor reception commentary whilst the train yawned its way across the Pennines. That journey was made all the tougher by having to spend at least a portion ‘enjoying’ Manchester City’s demolition of Portsmouth. Since I wrote my last article, I honestly agree with you when you say that football might have changed somewhat.

Jury's still out on Fellaini

 Like I told you, transfer deadline day was one of the strangest events of recent times. Sky Sports News was my companion for most of the day and became more and more ludicrous as the clock ticked down. Like I said, I went to sleep that night at twenty to twelve not just amazed at the goings on at Eastlands but with the genuine fear that Everton had missed their chance. When I got up the following day I was pleased we’d broken our transfer record - but for who exactly?

Having preferred a romantic meal to watching Fellaini’s apparently majestic performance at Anfield, I was more than a little dubious that Moyes had spent so much - panic on the streets of Walton, you could say. And so far, the jury’s out, though I was quite impressed with his performance and goal last weekend.

However, your Everton for relegation tip (14-1 I believe?) is looking a bit sounder after the last few weeks. Defensively questionable, things don’t exactly look set to improve given our next couple of fixtures, and without a UEFA Cup adventure to look forward to this time around, you might just have pulled off a coup.

If you recall, our discussion started with your noticing my t-shirt. Well I’ll be honest with you here, I sat opposite from you that day as I had noticed your centenary shirt and I hoped to comment on it at some point during the journey. I was a little taken aback that you thought me brave (or stupid) to be wearing such a slogan but given the behaviour of some of our fans at the derby I’d have to agree that sometimes ‘One Evertonian equals Twenty Liverpudlians’ might not be the case.

Torres proves two good in the Derby

Now I wasn’t at the derby, I was celebrating my birthday in another church witnessing a more friendly match, but from what I’ve heard and read the old ‘Murdererers’ / ‘The Baby’s Not Yours’ ad nauseum chants were resurrected, despite the plea for Merseyside to reunite in honour of Rhys Jones. When I heard about the bottle being thrown at Gerrard, I was disappointed, though not very surprised. I’ve written about all these issues, plus Torres’ claims for Footballer of the Year, before in greater detail, so will just say my lack of faith in LFC has been restored by the recent behaviour of a couple of their fans I know. Let’s leave it at that, other than to say they do look bloody impressive at the minute.

I’d also missed the admittedly exciting Standard Liege home game, my ticket went unused as more important events came to light. Given Shankly’s links to your hometown club, there’s a nice symmetry there. However, the away leg was hugely anti-climactic, and something will need to be done soon.

The Northern Landscape of Hudderfield as depicted by L.S.Lowry in 1965

I’ve been looking out for results from the Galpharm Stadium since our meeting, and have even found myself recounting your tale about that bar in Bangkok. In fact, that reminded me a little of yet another article I wrote about wearing football shirts abroad, though was much funnier. Please don’t think I’m an obsessed stalker, but there were some strange coincidences that came out of that hour and a half, and it left a lasting impression on me. Indeed, your tales of travelling also left me with a desire to see some of the world you described. India, New Orleans and those other places all sounded wonderful and inspired me to start saving up for a long-distance trip.

Meeting you also made me wish I supported someone else. Not that I regret picking Everton, you must understand, but it reignited an interest in football outside of the Premiership and Champions League and Match of the Day. Your tales of travelling that distance every other Saturday, and of discounted season tickets, and the overweight journeymen that fill the blue and white striped shirts. Other things in my little life have meant that I haven’t yet followed up this moment of inspiration, but I haven’t forgotten it. One Sunday soon, I might even get up in time to watch the Championship.

Best wishes to your family, I hope your son’s decided what he wants to do in the near future. I’ll look out for you next time I’m in your neck of the woods, when Stan Ternent’s on TV or David Unsworth misses a penalty.

Yours Sincerely

The Everton fan

Well, the column is back, and hopefully it will be here for the remainder of the season.  A multitude of time and personal circumstances, led to it being absent for the opening few months, so apologies for that.  Anyway .. enough of the chit chat, lets get stuck into this week’s international games!

Banker Bet

Germany V Russia 

What a game we have in prospect here! The Russians were the neutral’s favourites in the later stages of the Euro’s, where they won many off with their attacking brand of football, sadly they fell flat in the semi’s against the Spanish, but they showed the rest of europe they are a force. Last time out they beat Wales in Moscow 2-1, who were unlucky not to come away with a point, while the German’s showed their defence frailties in a 3-3 draw with Finland. The injured Pavlyuchenko will be replaced upfront by Pogbreynak, the Zenit forward, who scored the winner against the Welsh, while Germany have been dealt a blow with their new No 1, Robert Enke,  breaking his hand in training, so, either Rene Adler or Tim Wiese will earn their first cap in goal. With both sides looking better at going forward than defending, the preference is for goals, and while the over 2.5 market is normally the route i would take (17/20 @ Bet365), the 4-5 on both teams to score looks a better bet, as it gives you the cushion of the game throwing up a 1-1 draw.

Tip = Both teams to score 4-5 @ Bet 365

England V Kazakhstan

Last time out we were treated to the Theo show in Zagreb and that performance has the nation on the team’s side again, this has been reflected with Saturdays game being a sell out.

However, i believe a more straight forward victory will occur on Saturday, as Kazakhstan will be more or less 10 men behind the ball, in stark contrast to the Croatians who set up to win the game and were exposed through Walcotts pace getting behind the full back. His pace will be a danger no doubt, but the room will not be there this time.

Kazakhstan have lost 3-0 to Croatia (a) and suffered a 3-1 defeat to the Ukraine last time out at home, and I expect a similar scoreline here, with England looking to keep something in reserve for Wednesday’s difficult trip to Belarus.

Tip = England to win 3-0 @ 5-1 with most firms

More to follow………….

When Sunderland were trounced 7-1 by Everton the other weekend, many football fans probably felt a little bit sorry for Roy Keane and his bunch of hapless Black Cats. Why? It might be because there are certain teams one feels an instinctive sympathy towards. Not necessarily for any overriding reason, more a feeling, an intangible something that makes you not want them to be managed by Graeme Souness. Maybe it’s the gloomy humour of the fans, or the team’s commitment to attacking football, or something even more prosaic, but Manchester City, Fulham and Celtic, for example, are probably quite well-regarded by fans of other sides.

By contrast, there exist several clubs football lovers feels nothing but contempt towards. Chelsea (all that money), Manchester United (all that money and all those glory fans) and Leeds (too many to mention) are obvious examples. Sheffield United less so. It’s nothing against the club per se, and it’s no reflection on Blades fans and players, really, but certain elements leave a sour taste in the mouth of the neutral. Foisting Brian Deane upon an unsuspecting world, for example. Acting hard done by after being relegated from the Premier League last season, when a solitary point at home against Wigan (Wigan!) would have kept them up. Having Sean Bean as their most famous celebrity fan. And, of course, allowing Neil Warnock to remain in gainful employment.
But then Warnock resigns, for reasons too complex to go into, and the United board have the perfect opportunity to show the world that the Bramall Lane denizens are, in fact, a caring, considerate, family club, not one who allow a Sky documentary crew to film behind-the-scenes goings-on and fail to emerge with even a modicum of sympathy. (If you haven’t seen it, do your best to get hold of it on DVD; Warnock shaking hands with the Millwall players after a particularly tasty encounter at The New Den is worth the price of it alone.)

So, a perfect opportunity. And then they go and spoil it all by doing something stupid like appointing Bryan Robson. And blowing £4m on James Beattie.

Actually, Beattie has impressed, having netted 12 goals by the end of November to lead the scoring charts, but Robson hasn’t: a 3-0 home reverse against an Arsenal second team in the Carling Cup had one irate fan storming the pitch and throwing his shirt in the manager’s direction. (Whoa, steady on there, tough guy.) What was expected to be a stroll to promotion is looking somewhat more testing, particularly as Watford and West Brom appear to have gained some crucial momentum already.

Yet the Blades are not out of it, and though Robson is pretty clueless as a boss, feelings towards the club have probably become less hostile in recent months. (I have a sneaking suspicion Crystal Palace might suddenly become everyone’s most-hated team.) Sheffield United’s problem is one that several Championship teams are currently experiencing: they’re a biggish club from a large urban centre, with good support and a proud sense of tradition, but the expansion of the Premier League left them behind. Perhaps if Mark Stein hadn’t scored twice for Chelsea in the last 10 minutes on the last day of the 1993/94 season to send United down, Everton might have spent most of the last decade in the second tier. As it is, the Blades, like Norwich, Palace, Southampton and Wednesday, have never really recovered from relegation.

It may irk fans of those clubs that Wigan, Reading and Fulham occupy places in the top flight, but without a sugar daddy, clubs find it increasingly difficult to compete. Nottingham Forest won Division Two in 1978 and the League championship the very next season. The gap between Premier League and the rest is bigger than ever. It may seem as if Adam Pearson has got it all wrong by sacking Billy Davies before December, but in one way he’s right: if you avoid relegation in that first season, you can very quickly become an established club. I mean, just look at Bolton. (Just don’t stare at Andy O’Brien for too long. You might never recover.)

I awoke this morning overwhelmed by a familiar feeling of impending doom, thus igniting painful memories of a childhood flooded with extinguished dreams. For if England lose to Croatia – who have already qualified –tomorrow & subsequently fail to reach Euro 08, it will be the 2nd time in 13 years a nation of supposedly considerable football clout has been unable to qualify for a major tournament. Of course after Russia’s dramatic late defeat in Tel Aviv, England only need a draw at Wembley & should join a Croatian team, seemingly having nothing to play for, in the finals. But, despite qualification being in our own hands, I remain extremely pessimistic about the state of English football, deeply concerned by the lack of quality in our national team & continue to be uninspired by players this country seems to be producing. If we do qualify for Switzerland – I don’t fancy our chances.

England will go into the game without Rooney & Owen, & wont find it easy against a characteristically skilful & gifted Croatia. With memories of Rotterdam weighing heavy on the mind, it’s an all too familiar story & one, which, no matter what the outcome, will leave question marks hanging ominously over, not only the ability of the manager & the reasoning behind his appointment; but also, the calibre of players he’s had at his disposal.

On that fateful night in the Netherlands, I blamed Ronald Koeman, but most directed their anger at a hapless manager who ultimately paid the price defeat & duly sacked. In hindsight, those incredulous shortcomings marked the end of an era for me & death of a certain type of player, which hitherto had been commonplace in English football. My heroes of ‘86’ & ‘90’ were all but retired at this stage & were being replaced by such players of the Carlton Palmer, David Batty & Andy Sinton mould. It was the birth of a school of thought in this country that skill didn’t win you matches & flair, thereby, was no longer deemed necessary. At first this change in approach & a new ethos to ‘win at all costs’ worked perfectly & nearly paid immediate dividends in ‘Euro 96’ when football ‘almost’ came home. But this initial success was short lived & arguably we’ve not come anywhere near these standards since. If Taylor’s failings suggested an increasing vulnerability, then McClaren’s latest struggle indicates that once more we stand culpable of becoming victims of our own infallibility. And like Taylor, McClaren cannot be held fully accountable.

We’ve had enough of big strong centre backs & complete(?) midfielders, we need players with genuine skill & artistry, who can not only entertain but turn matches in a heartbeat with one moment of brilliance. It’s time for a shift in company policy & time we faced up to the reality that this so called golden generation are not so golden after all. As when you look at it – what the fuck have they won?

Thinking back to the joys of ‘Italia 90’ I drool with envy over both England & Ireland’s line-ups & the creativity we used to take for granted. Both teams possessed a wealth of talent & experience, oozing flair & fecundity. As a result both teams made it out alive from the group of death; with Jackie’s men ‘giving it a lash’ & partying their way to a creditable quarter-final, & Bobby Robson’s England a whisker away from reaching the final, after bowing out to West Germany on pens in the semis. But this didn’t tell the whole story. Gazza & England’s entertaining style captured the hearts of the world & had a nation – seemingly tired of a sport destroyed by hooliganism – sobbing to the Nessun Dorma & proudly ‘Singing For England’ once again. In 1990 fans sang loudly, wholeheartedly & it meant everything to us.

Today, players for some reason aren’t the same. No dribblers, no magic, no nothing, just static. In 1990, Lineker aside – who incidentally had other uses – players had the skill to turn & win us important matches. Whether it was a Waddle shuffle, a Beardsley shimmy or Gasciogne just being ‘Gazza’, those moments were worth 20 of a well-drilled Beckham set-piece, an over-rehearsed Joe Cole step-over or even for that matter, homo-erotically marvelling at the physic of a Micah Richards. And that’s not me by the way! Plus, players used to have personality. Despite Gerrard, Rooney & Terry displaying plenty of character on the pitch, off it, it’s another story. Their over-used media trained clichés & the laboriously annoying “erms” of Rooney are enough to turn even the most hardened supporter off the ‘beautiful’ game. Then there’s 2 Cole’s, Rio, Lamps & Gary Neville – enough said really. How I long for a Gazza “I’m off to get me suit Measured” rant, one more ‘stop-look-listen’ Keegan commercial, or even another Johnny Barnes Rap to awaken me from my ‘It’s a matter of life & death’ dull & deep slumber.      

Obviously it’s important that we win matches as success brings about much pride & happiness, but the need to be entertained is every bit just as important.

Although Lennon, Pennant, Wright-Phillips & most promisingly Ashley Young, all provide a glimmer of hope, our game is desperately in need of the artistry & invention made famous by the flare wearing mavericks of the late 60’s & 70’s. Pioneers such as Matthews, Finney & Law paved the way inspiring the likes of Best, Bowles, Osgood, Hudson & Marsh - who were to light up English football like never before. To watch these men perform was mesmerising & enchanting. And there has been no finer sight in football since, than George Best in full flight; rhythmically smooth & perfectly formed, all natural & flowing, like poetry in motion. My father used to say, “football isn’t what it used to be” & in many ways it certainly is not, but it’s his “money has ruined the game” chestnut that echoes more poignantly through my mind.

This ‘Golden Generation’ tag is a load of old poppycock & England’s struggle to qualify supports this very notion. They might be more disciplined, extremely richer, & even a lot fitter, but in no way are they in the same class as their forefathers & this will continue to be the case unless English football makes massive changes & attempts to get to the root of the problem. Although modern players possess many admirable qualities, which complemented by the sublime skills of ‘foreigners’ has brought English club football much success in recent years, flair has to be added to the equation. If only English players could emulate the skills they see each day in training. But this, in reality, is easier said than done & the missing ingredient has to be developed much earlier in a young footballer’s education.

Now many might think I’m being very cynical, so I’ll go & annoy those people more by suggesting it’s a bit like this with music. Many aspire to be famous, whether they’re manufactured or not & have little regard for producing something raw, unique & innovative. Bob Dylan even branded modern music as sounding atrocious with “no definition, no nothing” & that Cd’s have failed to capture an authentic sound. Lee Mavers from The La’s said something similar & if you compare a live version of his classic “feelin’” to it’s album track equivalent, then I think you’ll appreciate what he means.

I got chatting to this Cork man the other day who was heavily involved in the organising of an U-21 match between England & Ireland about a month ago. England brushed aside a much younger & inexperienced Irish team 3-0 & this bloke saw it as a clear indication of how the ‘foreign invasion’ in the Premier League is affecting Irish football. In the 80’s & 90’s young Irish players littered England’s top-flight first teams, yet in this game only one was a member of a Premier League squad & he couldn’t even get a game at a heavily Irish-favoured Sunderland. Now, in many he’s right of course, but it’s almost as bad for us English. Despite this victory, I fail to get too excited about the prospects of Noble, Milner & Lita. In my opinion the English league is over saturated with far too many foreigner’s who are inadvertently stifling the development of English & Irish players; who aren’t cost effective & who sadly no longer appear to be a requisite for success.

Both are in need of new infrastructure & possibly a new catalyst if past glories are to return. Ireland – who have some useful youngsters – are in desperate need of a man with the knowledge & experience of a Giles or a Brady with the youthful enthusiasm & man-management skills of say, Paul Jewell. If the latter took the job then there’s a chance with some support he could be a huge success. Whether he favours a return to club management, only Paul knows, but in my eyes it’s a win-win situation for him. England on the other hand will probably qualify, McClaren keep his job & things continue much in the same vein, meaning my anxieties will be fully justified.          

And so the moment had arrived. The last time – in a long time at least – I would experience watching my team Liverpool in a Manchester ale house. The last time I’d be forced to switch allegiances on grounds of personal safety; & hopefully, yet highly unlikely, the last time I’