British sportsmen, and journalists, just don't get it

I have a tendency to become enraged when the British media, our media, come down so hard on our failing sports stars. I will argue until I'm blue in the face that one error does not make a bad goalkeeper, as the media has insisted in the past cases of Rob Green and Paul Robinson. I will vehemently rebuke suggestions that Andrew Strauss is not fit to captain the English cricket team because he has had a patchy run off form. I do not believe that Andy Murray is British when he wins but Scottish when he loses: I believe he should be measured on his consistency of performance. Whether you support him is up to you.

In the case of Alastair Cook, newly appointed One Day International captain of England I am going to argue precisely the opposite. Why on earth is he receiving glowing praise in today's papers? Why, for that matter, are the press so rambunctiously undulating with glee at yesterday's rain-affected victory over Sri Lanka.

I'm all for taking the positives from negative situations. For completeness though, it is only proper to address what went wrong when things, result-wise, have gone well.

There were some overly defensive field placings as England should have been maneuvering for the kill. There were one or two strange bowling changes and two bowlers in particular - Jade Dernbach and Stuart Broad - looked worryongly short of invention from a position which any fast bowler should have relished. Blowing away tails should be routine for a pace attack. Sri Lanka's 9th wicket partnership was worth 52 from just 34 balls, before the guile of Graeme Swann was required to dismiss both partners in this improbable stand, Lasith Malinga and Suraj Randiv.

This is what bothers me most: we should have rolled them over more easily, more quickly, more brutally. We should not have trundled over the line as we did. In the grand scheme of things it may seem pedantic to quibble over so moot a point. The game was dead. Why shouldn't we just trundle through? Why bare our teeth and savage the already mortally wounded foe?

Why? Because that is what winners do. That is what winning mentality is. That is why the Australian greats Glenn McGrath and Shane Warne were so deadly. They were merciless. The same could be said of the West Indian fast-bowling duo of Curtley Ambrose and Courtney Walsh which wreacked havoc through the 1990s. They were savages, lusty for blood and a little thing like match circumstances was not enough to quell that. Their purest joy was in simply taking wickets.

It is a trait of British sportsmen, I fear, that they feel they can turn their killer instincts on and off at will. Frank Lampard, Wayne Rooney and co might saunter through a friendly match knowing they will be subbed at half-time anyway. It's only a friendly, who cares? And then the World Cup arrives and all of a sudden England have forgotten how to shift through the gears and pick teams apart (assuming they ever knew). Why? Because they have learnt bad habits. They've purposefully practiced how to coast rather than how to motor on.

In cricket, England's bowlers know what to do when the going is good. Last night James Anderson disposed of Sri Lanka's top order in stormy, swing-friendly conditions, perfect for his style of bowling. In this year's World Cup he was bereft of such helpful conditions and was exposed as having no plan B. Dernbach and Broad bowled predominantly slower balls and bouncers respectively and Sri Lanka's tail wagged. It didn't matter in the game, but if England's bowlers can't better adapt to differing conditions they will never be a serious force in the limited-overs games. If they can't fully integrate a killer-instinct in to their mindsets they will, on occasion, struggle in all forms of the game.

The same principle applies to our football team and English tennis players gone by. If only Tim Henman had wanted to win every tournament as much as Wimbledon, he might have actually won Wimbledon. Of our boxers, Ricky Hatton might have been able to compete with the well-oiled machine of Floyd Mayweather Jr if only his winning habits had been fully integrated in to his psyche, rather than picked up for every fight, then put down in favour of pies and peas and pints.

Winning is not a part-time sojourn in sport. It is a lifetime of practice and labour. Should Great British sportsmen and women ever yearn to reach the greatest of sporting heights, they must learn that greatness is hard-earned with sacrifice, persistence and, above all, practice.

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Wally For Hire (Brolly optional)

Former England manager Steve McClaren is looking for a new job and wants to return to the Premier League. Would you want him at your club?

I imagine a resounding cry of 'no, thank you!' in response. McClaren is 'The Wally with the Brolly.' He is a figure of public ridicule. Appointing him manager would be like re-appointing Gordon Brown as Prime Minister: unthinkable.

But, on the other hand, McClaren has a CV which any current Premier League manager would look at and take note. First headline - he has managed England. True, when itemising his experience with England, he does need to use the old CV-writing adage of turning negatives in to positives. For example, he has learnt that a manager should never try to be one of the lads and, under no circumstances, should he ever, EVER, use an umbrella. Still, who else in the Premier League can match this credential?

Second headline - he has managed in the Champions League. Again this might need some dressing up, but it is a box ticked nevertheless.

He has managed in three countries, including a remarkable title-winning spell at the unfashionable Dutch club, Twente.

He has taken a middle of the road English team in to Europe, twice consecutively, and steered them to a Uefa Cup final.

He learnt his trade (in part) from the great Sir Alex Ferguson, who would endorse the fact that McClaren is an absolutely top-class coach.

So, remind me again why no-one would want him? Ah, yes. Because of his troublesome England rein, in which he was lambasted by media and fans alike. His failed England rein for which he, and not the players nor the fans nor the weight of expectation, is solely responsible. Yes, that's why. Even the perspective of seeing the revered Fabio Capello also fail as England manager, in alarmingly similar fashion, does not get McClaren of the hook.

How many fans who turn their noses up at McClaren also turned their noses up at the appointment of Roy Hodgson at Fulham? They were proven wrong. After his abortive Liverpool misadventure, he is now proving himself all over again at West Brom. From the current bunch of Premier League managers, Hodgson is McClaren's nearest rival in terms of experience, having managed Inter Milan and Switzerland in his long career. He has not managed England though, which is what makes McClaren unique.

Aston Villa have a vacancy and they could probably do worse than appoint the Wally with the Brolly.

I should point out here that, as a supporter of Middlesbrough and England, I am not a great fan of McClaren. His rein at Boro (not Gareth Southgate's immediately after it) is responsible for the club's current position - floundering in the Championship, financially wrecked and in desperate need of rebuilding from bottom to top.

However, it is possible that he has learnt from both his negative and his positive experiences. This, after all, is the point of experience, and why it is such a commodity in football, and in life.

If he has, then he should be in a position to go to a club like Villa or even back to the England job when Capello stands down. If he hasn't, then he truly is a wally.

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I have a dream

Last night I had a dream. I dreamt that the Big Six English clubs severed themselves from the Premier League to join a Global Elite League formed, for pure commercial gain, by the monstrous Overlord of Fifa, Joseph S. Blatter. I dreamt that they took their stars with them, English and foreign alike, complete with their big wages and commercial value. They left the Premier League and England bereft of top-class talent, and the true English fans mourned as if their game had been lost: sold forever to the great God capitalism.

Fabio Capello had gone to manage the new 'national' team, the Global Elite All-Stars, whose place at the next World Cup Blatter had already assured. Sir Alex Ferguson, 'Arry Redknapp, Arsene Wenger, Roberto Mancini, Kenny Dalgliesh and the top seven bookies' favourites for the Chelsea job had all been snapped up by Blatter's new hybrid super league. Other countries, of course, all did the same thing. There were no star managers left.

I thought it was a nightmare.

The FA held a crisis meeting to discuss disbanding the national side and postponing the new Premier League season. But, like Manchester United in the wake of the Munich air disaster, a sense of purpose arose. English Football should go on, dismembered shell of its former self though it is.

The first game of the new era was the New Charity Shield, held between the New Champions of England (based on League standings prior to the split) Everton and the New FA Cup winners (runners up before the split) Stoke City. Pleasingly, although the Wembley crowd were tentative at first, the game was enjoyable. It was hardly a classic, but it was highly competitive blood and thunder stuff. Stoke City won 3-2 to win their first ever Charity Shield.

The League season started with Everton the favourites to retain their artificially acquired title. Within a few games though, the table was different to anyone's predictions. Everton were 8th. Stoke were top and, along with Fulham, Aston Villa and Bolton were setting the pace in the New Top Four. There was no Champions League to qualify for now, of course, so the New Top Four was a pretty abstract concept with no meaningful financial reward. Nevertheless, the teams up there seemed to be enjoying the lofty heights, expressing themselves through free-flowing attacks and meaty tackling. It was, as one commentator exclaimed, "the greatest Sunday-league football of all time."

The first meaningful international fixture, a qualifier away in Bulgaria, loomed darkly on the horizon though. How could an England side without Lampard, Gerrard and Rooney hope to succeed? How could we possibly replace Terry and Ferdinand and Hart and Cole. Even the Johnsons of this world, Adam and Glen, were no longer available. The squad had been annihilated by the split. And who would replace Capello, with all the great star tacticians gone?

Stuart Pearce, as Under-21 manager, had not been commandeered by the Global Elite League. He agreed to step up in the interim, with advice and assistance from the suddenly rather fashionable Stoke manager, Tony Pulis. Pulis brought some of his club players along with him, and some of his tactics too.

The New England team set up in a 4-4-2 formation with two wingers - Jermaine Pennant and Matthew Etherington - and this immediately seemed to cause the Bulgarian's problems. The natural width on either flank stretched the game. The natural crossers on either side provided service to the New Big Lad up front, Fulham's Bobby Zamora. The first goal came from a cross, nodded down by Zamora and banged in by the attacking central midfielder, Newcastle's Kevin Nolan. The second came when Nolan's midfield partner and club team-mate Joey Barton broke up a Bulgaria attack and pumped an intelligent ball up to Zamora's chest. Holding his man off, Zamora was able to lay the ball down to his strike partner, Villa's Darren Bent, who provided a cool finish from inside the box.

Surprisingly two down, the shell-shocked Bulgaria side (who had not lost many, if any, players to the Elite League) started to fight back. Barton's industry in front of the back four helped to snuff out Bulgaria's attacks and, when they did get through, Birmingham's Roger Johnson and Stoke's Ryan Shawcross performed heroically. With authentic passion, physical stature and national pride, they battled to keep the Bulgarians at bay and, together with the full-backs Ryan Taylor (Newcastle) and Leighton Baines (Everton), they formed a pretty solid unit. David Stockdale, the Fulham goalkeeper, made a couple of good saves and, generally, commanded his area well. Mentally, he seemed pretty well-balanced and comfortable with the task in hand.

With Bulgaria forced to chase the game and starting to tire, Pearce's super-sub DJ Campbell (Blackpool) managed to beat an offside trap and bang the ball joyfully in to the roof of the net. 3-0. A resounding win for the New England, against all odds. Whether it was spirit or fluke, something made this team of misfits and cast-offs perform above themselves and win the tricky away tie. Pearce himself was staggered, reflecting that the team had achieved something "miraculous."

The Premier League season went on, and became highly competitive as Everton, Newcastle and Sunderland improved during the season and, for one reason or another, Fulham and Bolton tailed off. In the final weekend's fixtures, there were four teams still in contention for the title, and nine still in danger of relegation. Mid-table obscurity had become a narrower channel than anyone could remember.

New England comfortably qualified for the European Championships and, in a massive upset, went on to win the tournament. Bobby Zamora scored the winning goal in the final, his only goal of the tournament. Eight-goal Darren Bent dedicated his Golden Boot to the New Big Man's tireless, selfless hold-up play.

This was not a nightmare. It was a beautiful dream of an unrealistic short-term future and, perhaps, a simplistic prophecy of a New Bright Future to come.

United and Liverpool show the path to the future

Phil Jones, 19, has signed for Manchester United for £16m. 20 year-old Jordan Henderson has gone to Liverpool, for £20m. It's yet more evidence that football has gone mad, with fat-cat clubs squandering silly money while everyone else struggles. It's outrageous. It's abhorrent. It's wastefulness at its worst. Except that it isn't that at all. It's exactly the opposite.

In Alex Ferguson and Kenny Dalgliesh the two red giants of the North West have two of the wiliest old foxes in world football. Between the two clubs, they have thirty-seven league titles. How many of those have been won because of cash-splashing on established foreign superstars? I can't think of a single instance.

Even Eric Cantona arrived at Manchester United relatively unproven. He left Old Trafford with a stash of medals and God-like status. The same could be said of Christiano Ronaldo.

Liverpool's titles were won in the era before big foreign stars were considered fundamental to success, and Manchester United have, in many ways, stuck to that old-fashioned ethos. Their success in the mid-nineties was built on British foundations: Bruce and Pallister; Ince and Robson; Hughes and McClair. The emergence of the golden generation of Giggs, Beckham, Scholes, Butt and the Neville brothers was the catalyst for a further decade and a half at the very top of the English tree.

There have been foreign cameos in the United story, such as Cantona and Ronaldo, but those who have made the biggest impacts have been those who have proven themselves to be what the fans call 'United Players.' It may be an obvious label, but it is evocative.

Bobby Charlton was, is and always will be a United Player. So will Duncan Edwards, Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Gary Neville. They are the ones who are synonymous with the club, and with Old Trafford. There is one shared identity between these figures: the fans, the stadium and the players and managers, past and present. On the other hand, the Cantonas, the Beckhams, the Ronaldos: they all became separate to that identity, and each of their United tenures was subsequently allowed a premature end.

If Phil Jones is to become the next United Player then £16m may prove to be a bargain. At 19, that could realistically equate to a million pounds per year of service. His initial wages are a fraction of what an established international star would expect and, if he doesn't work out, he will retain a resale value. There really is very little risk for exponentially high potential reward. At a club with the culture of United, he could become a great.

The idea of United's collective identity resonates for Liverpool too. They had it a generation ago, but have been wayward since parting with Roy Evans in the nineties. Gerard Houllier and Rafa Benitez brought continental ideas, but little success, with Benitez's Champions League win very much the exception rather than the norm. With Jamie Carragher and Steven Gerrard on the pitch and Sammy Lee in the back room, there has been lip-service to the old days. King Kenny's return could spark a full on return. The signings of Andy Carroll and Jordan Henderson certainly seem to be a statement of intent.

The future for United and Liverpool will be built predominantly upon young, British talent, schooled in the history, identity and value of the red shirts they wear.

Chelsea, Tottenham Hotspur and Manchester City could stand to learn from their rivals or, if they dont, there will be many more titles heading to the men in red.

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Imogen Thomas: vixen, victim or symptom of the disease?

Shining star, or burnt out?

Over the past few weeks there have been two main themes in the tabloids: the right royal wedding (aka Pippa Middleton's bum) and the right royal scandal of the Ryan Giggs-Imogen Thomas affair. Both stories suggest peculiarly British traits of media consumption - like our soap operas suggest, we are obsessed with other people's dirty laundry and, as if we have never grown beyond our collective Carry On film phase, we are obsessed with boobs and bums and all things so mundanely and so Britishly bawdy.

Ryan Giggs cheated on his wife with a glamour model. This tit-bit of intrigue is now public property, and it seemingly takes precedent over his twenty year career at the absolute peak of English football. Our future monarch has a new wife - we have a new potential queen - but what matters is that her sister is well fit.

As Pippa Middleton has done nothing to attract such attention (other than happening to have a sister who married a prince and happening to have a rather nice bottom), let's leave her out of this debate. Let's focus instead on Miss Thomas. To the anonymous death-threateners from cyberspace, she is an abhorrent slut. A home-wrecker. A fame-hungry whore. That, of course, is only one side of the argument. The other extremity is that she is the victim. Used by Giggs. Persecuted by the society that created her, and all those other wannabes like her. The truth, as ever, probably lies somewhere in the middle.



Charlotte Jackson

 Yes, her moral code appears to be somewhere roughly around the gutter - but is that her fault? Allow me to preempt various possible feminist readings of this story here: Imogen Thomas is symptomatic of British culture. She is a victim of a male-driven media's lust for flesh. Only women who sexualise themselves can 'get anywhere' in the pop-culture. These points are valid. In a previous post, I commented on how Sky Sports'  presenters include an overly high proportion of attractive young women (such as Charlotte Jackson, who was at the centre of the Andy Gray sacking furore). Miriam O'Reilly, at that time, won a landmark case for feminism and age equality. Since then she has been rehired by the BBC to film a documentary about herself and, it seems, very little else. She is not sexy enough for Prime Time TV - Jackson and co. are the future.

But it is not enough to write off Thomas, in broad, structuralist terms, as a victim of society. She is an individual. She makes her own decisions. She has at least some input in to the path she treads. She chose to appear on Big Brother - which brought her in to the public eye - and chose to pose in Lads Mags and to date sports stars: Ryan Giggs was not the first. The reason for these choices lies in the previous paragraph - she felt she had to do this if she wanted to 'get anywhere' in show-business. This is indeed symptomatic of a culture in which 'stars' are born without any discernible talent and hyped up to the supernova of fame, before burning out, breaking down and, ultimately, disappearing.



Sex sells

This is a societal disease, that much is true. The afore-mentioned blog featuring Charlotte Jackson included a picture sourced from Bing Images, of Miss Jackson in a rather revealing bikini. That image has generated more traffic to this site than any other article, picture, link or tag. Some five months after it was posted, there are still more weekly visitors to that picture than there are to the rest of the site combined. The Bing Images pictures in this post will probably do the same - of course, I would probably rather have people actually reading the blog but, hey, that's life! In modern media, it seems, sex sell more than ever.

Nevertheless, Thomas could have chosen another path. She could have become a teacher, a doctor, a lawyer or anything else she wanted, or, if access to the requisite education was not available to her, she could have gone to work in a bar or an office or a factory. The problem is simple: everyone wants to be famous. Great artists and honest professional alike hone their skills, not for the pursuit of the fame but for the love of their endeavour. Thomas does not even have any skills to hone, only her mortal body, which will age and wither and ultimately die. She has already had a boob-job to improve its longevity. But how long can she deny the tide of age? She is young and beautiful now, and lives on that. What will she do when she is Miriam O'Reilly's age?

Unlike Charlotte Jackson, Thomas doesn't have a craft. While Jackson's looks may have propelled her career, she is also good at her job. She is a trained professional. As such, her star may yet shine brightly beyond the glamour of her youth. Thomas is not even talented enough, or hard-working enough, for that - she simply makes her money through column inches and professional self-exposure.




Stony-faced

It must be horrible to be hated by strangers - even more so because, on a purely human level, married-man Giggs is far more at fault than she is. But this is the life Imogen Thomas chose - fame, wealth and the adulation and derision that constitutes modern-day celebrity. This is the path she chose. That is why it is hard to feel sorry for her when she sobs her way through morning television shows, or looks stony-faced outside the court-room. She didn't have it coming. She doesn't deserve it. But she did go out and get it.



Crocodile tears, or genuine remorse?

Even if the tears are genuine (about which I am, at best, dubious), perhaps she weeps because she realises that she has made her own bed, with some very famous notches on the post, and now she has to lie in it. Perhaps she realises that her amoral, materially-driven life is not the ticket to happiness she once thought. Perhaps she wishes she was just a bar-maid in a Welsh local, with a nice, normal boyfriend, wedding plans and a future based on more old-fashioned notions of contentedness: family and friends, a stable home-life and just enough money to get by on.

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Oh, and for those of you who have accidentally stumbled across this site whilst looking for pics of lovely Imogen, and can't really be bothered with distractions like words and thoughts and general opinion-making, here's some more tits. And Pippa Middleton's bum. Enjoy!

I'm a bit weird

Yes. Today I realised something. I'm a bit weird. I'm different to other people.

A colleague read my blog and commented on the entry "Sailing this ship alone." It moved her. This reduced me not to tears but to something more snivelling: lamenting the past, contacting the ex, being all soppy. Weird.

I genuinely care about people. That is, I care about people close to me. My friends, my family. The women I have loved and in at least one case still do. I'm no good at expressing that. I'm male. I'm northern. I'm stoic. I'm weird.

It doesn't mean I don't care. When one ex said she just didn't know how I would react to things - and that was why she wanted to break up - I had to agree. I don't know how I will react to things. I'm weird.

So yeah, I suppose the point is that my blog might be moving (on the occasion I write about something other than football, cricket or politics) but I can't translate this to real life. Writing, yes. Real life, no. Because I'm weird.

Ah well. Better than being boring isn't it? Is it? Sometimes I wish I was boring. But then I wouldn't be me, would I?

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Philosopher Southgate has found his cause

Former Middlesbrough manager Gareth Southgate seems to be growing in to his new role as the FA's Head of Elite Development. At the very least, he is becoming increasingly vocal about the philosophy of the role.

In The Mail on Sunday, he is quoted talking about the power of practice - candidly citing his own Euro 96 penalty miss as evidence of what happens without it. Earlier in the week he unveiled plans to ban 11 a-side games for under 13s - a move which would bring England, finally, in line with the greatest exponents of youth development in Europe: Holland, Spain, France, Italy and Germany.

I am reminded at this point of a scene in 'Auf Wiedersehen, Pet', in which Jimmy Nail's character, Oz, discusses English schoolboy football with his estranged wife's new Italian lover, Sandro.

"The pitch is too big - all they learn about is space," Sandro says. "In Italy they play on the street, the beach - they learn control."

The mismatched pair are watching Oz's son, who Sandro has been coaching, dictate his team's victory on a full-sized pitch. Sandro is beaming with pride and Oz, grudgingly, has to concede that the Italian is right.

That episode was made in 1985. It has taken the FA a further 26 years to come to the same conclusion.

Southgate is spearheading the new blueprints for youth development. Smaller pitches. Smaller goals. Greater emphasis on skill over athleticism. It's a major overhaul of a system which has produced too little indigenous talent - and even less variety of talent types - in the modern era. The English era of hard-running, hard-hitting kick and rush players (Rooney, Gerrard, Lampard and co all fit this bill) is coming to an end. Our newest and shiniest light, Jack Wilshere, has already benefited from being schooled under similarly forward-thinking conditions. Arsene Wenger shares Southgate's philosophy, and was one of the few people to openly endorse his management style.

As Middlesbrough manager Southgate was often derided, even by Boro fans, and was ultimately sacked in favour of the more 'old-school' Gordon Strachan (who, as a Boro fan, I would quite like to punch in the face - but that's beside the point).

Southgate's long-term vision for Middlesbrough was centred around Dave Parnaby's highly productive youth academy. He knew that building a culture of development at a club, as Wenger and Sir Alex Ferguson have done, is conducive to long-term success. Strachan systematically un-picked the seams Southgate had sewn, in pursuit of shorter-term achievement. He failed spectacularly.

Perhaps Southgate's patient philosophy does not marry up to the modern pressures of front-line management. Fortunately for him, and for England, it does marry up to his new role. English footballing generations to come will reap the rewards.

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No snap judgement: it's time to talk about Kevin

Kevin Pietersen: superstar batsman

It is wrong to make snap judgements in Test cricket. A batsman may take days to craft a great innings, and then, in one ball he might throw his wicket away. A bowler might bowl an inspired session, taking wickets for fun, and then spend hours toiling fruitlessly the next day.

The temptation as commentators and as fans is to laud immediate achievement and to condemn instant failure. More often than not, our instincts to do this are misleading. Over the span of careers, we have dismissed Ian Bell for his lack of mental strength, only for him to come back stronger than ever, and looking an outstanding middle-order player. We have lauded Monty Panesar, only for the emergence of Graeme Swann to show the difference that a genuine top-class spinner can really make.

For England at present, there is plenty to be positive about. Along with Bell, Jonathan Trott and Alastair Cook have blossomed over the last twelve months. Andrew Strauss looks comfortable both at the top of the innings and as captain. Eoin Morgan is showing early promise in his Test career at number six. Against Sri Lanka this morning, wicket-keeper Matthew Prior notched up his fifth Test century.

In the bowling department, Stuart Broad and James Anderson are now considered the established leaders of the seam attack. In Chris Tremlett England have a third seamer, whose 6’8” frame alone makes him an imposing prospect. Steven Finn (playing in place of the injured Anderson today) is not quite as tall, or as established, but is a useful option, and that is the point – we have genuine options with the seam attack. In Swann, and since the retirements of Shane Warne and Muttiah Muralitharan, England have perhaps the top spinner in the game.

But wait. I have missed someone out haven’t I? What about superstar batsman and formerly short-lived England captain Kevin Pietersen?

Since his emergence in 2005, Pietersen has been a magnet for media attention and this has never changed. He was lauded for his contribution to England’s 2005 Ashes victory. He very quickly became a star. At the time, this was a snap judgement. That is not to say that Kevin Pietersen is not a quality player to this day. He is.

Pietersen’s reputation is characterised by big-hitting centuries. He has made seventeen of them and twenty-one fifties in seventy-one matches. Alastair Cook, by comparison, has the same number of centuries and three more fifties in five fewer matches. Both have averages of just over 48. So Cook has a slightly better record than Pietersen. So what?

What rankles though is that he never seems to have developed, on or off the pitch. He is still the flamboyant flair player he always was, and he is still an outspoken media source. This is no snap judgement. It is a feeling which has been growing throughout years of watching Pietersen start to build an innings before carelessly throwing his wicket away.

If Kevin Pietersen is the most gifted batsman of this generation, the statistics suggest that he is not the most hard-working. To use the Cook comparison again, the young opener is a model of technique, temperament and professionalism. He has continually improved the more experienced he has become.

In 2010, Pietersen averaged just over 41 in tests. Cook averaged 58. In 2011’s three Tests so far, Pietersen averages just 13, with Cook averaging a huge 139. For those without encyclopaedic memories, you might think that Cook must have a not out inflating that statistic. He does not.

In the winter Ashes series, Pietersen’s double hundred in Adelaide was crucial to England’s series win, but it also served to mask a below par year for the South African born player, pushing his average up over the 40 mark and in to the realms of respectability. Remove this one innings and he is left with a 2010 record with no centuries and an average of just 31. Removing Cook’s top score of 235 not out from the First Test of the same series leaves him with four remaining hundreds, and an average of 50 for 2010.  The statistics make it possible to say that Cook’s double hundred was evidence of a good year, while Pietersen’s was an exception in a bad year.

Cook: control, technique and temperament

Widening the perspective, it is possible to argue that his 2010 form is typical of Pietersen as an international cricketer: he has reached the highest of heights with his talent, but he has steadfastly refused to adapt his style or curb his attacking instincts. He has refused to learn control and to develop his temperament. He has bought in to his own talent myth and because of this he has failed to develop in to the dominant, world-class batsman the nation had hoped he might become. Control, technique and temperament, not flair, are the hallmarks of every great batsman – Ricky Ponting, Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid and perhaps now Alastair Cook. They are the characteristics which exclude Pietersen from this category. He can play strokes of the same quality as the illustrious players I have just listed, but he can’t quell his instincts – his burning desire for glory - to leave the next ball when he should.

The retirement of Paul Collingwood from Test cricket has left England with another problem, and new questions about the balance of the side. Collingwood was the nominal fifth bowler, and the team’s best fielder. These roles will be missed more acutely than his batting – the inclusion of Morgan may actually improve England’s middle order.

After the first day of the first test against Sri Lanka last week, as England’s bowlers toiled between rain breaks, former England batsman Geoff Boycott lamented the decision to play only four bowlers, suggesting that the inclusion of Monty Panesar as a second spinner might have helped England eke out wickets in difficult conditions. On day five, as England skittled the tourists out for just 82, with only three fit bowlers and James Anderson watching on, such a suggestion seemed silly  - further evidence of the folly of making snap judgements in cricket.

Nevertheless, circumstances will arise where the bowlers have to dig deeper than they did on Monday, if England are to achieve their aim of being the number one Test side in world cricket. England will have to beat stronger opponents than this Sri Lanka side so recently relieved of the services of Muralitharan and Chaminda Vaas, their two best bowlers.

In the battle to balance the bowling and batting strength of a side, a Collingwood-type fifth bowler is the happy compromise we now lack. Ian Bell and Jonathan Trott do not look as comfortable as Collingwood did bowling a few key overs. Pietersen himself has the ability to bowl useful off-spin but he has never developed the consistency required for him to be anything other than an occasionally used ‘partnership-breaker’ weapon.

There is a clear and probably wise reluctance to promote Stuart Broad up the order, though he has shown himself to be a more than competent batsman. Perhaps the cautionary tale of Andrew Flintoff is behind this. Ultimately, the workload as star bowler, batsman, slip-fielder and sometime captain was too much of a burden for someone of even Flintoff’s immense heart to take. His career batting averages are not as good as he would have wanted. His spells as captain were a mixed bag of small triumphs and spectacular failures. His bowling was blighted by injury. Broad should be left to concentrate on his bowling. Batting at number eight, any contribution he makes is a bonus rather than an expectation, a joy rather than a burden.

The best answer, perhaps, is Ravi Bopara. The Essex batsman could lay claim to being an all-rounder in the same way as Collingwood could – he is a batsmen who is a more-than-useful medium-pacer.  The concerns about Bopara would be whether his batting is good enough to justify inclusion on its own merit and, if so, who would be dropped? With Morgan in the mix, the top six look set for the foreseeable future. 

Bopara - an all-round option

Would the selectors consider dropping Pietersen? Perhaps his recent failures suggest that the team could bear to lose him, purely to gain Bopara’s all-round contribution. Whether Bopara could bat in Pietersen’s spot at number four is another question. Number five Bell or number six Morgan could step up the order instead, but perhaps with the solidity of Bell and Morgan behind him Bopara would have the freedom to flourish. Even if he failed in that order, the team would have Bell, Morgan and Prior to follow. Perhaps it is better to blood Bopara at four than it would be at six, where he would be more exposed to having to take the lead role when batting with a bowler at the other end.

But would the selectors consider dropping Pietersen? Perhaps, if they would, they might discover a new balance and propel England to their coveted position at the top of the Test tree. Perhaps Bopara could become the new Collingwood. And, here’s a radical idea: if he did fail, perhaps we could simply recall Pietersen, and perhaps with the kick-up-the-arse of being dropped, he might by then have put a bit more thought in to developing himself in to the great batsman he should have become. Perhaps, if he cannot do that, the team do not need him at all.

Perhaps England do not need their superstar. Perhaps dropping him would send the right message to the mere mortals beneath him, the likes of Ravi Bopara. Work hard. Concentrate. Practice. Don't think you can just get by on your God-given talent.

Fifa 'family' farce taints football

On Wednesday, Sepp Blatter won a fourth term as Fifa president after an election in which he stood opposed.

It has been an extraordinary week of controversy and in-fighting, with Blatter taking centre-stage. The Swiss has traded accusations with his own vice-president and head of Concacaf, Jack Warner, and the head of Asian football, Mohammed Bin Hammam, both of whom have subsequently found themselves suspended.

Blatter, who himself has been cleared of any wrongdoing by Fifa's ethics committee, has called for unity amongst the Fifa 'family'. Presumably, in this family unit, Warner and Bin Hammam are now the estranged relatives. So too, it seems, are the English and Scottish FAs, who both called for Wednesday's election to be postponed after the only opposing candidate (Bin Hammam) dropped out of the race. The reaction to this show of disobedience has been vitriolic.

Blatter has stated that the English FA should have set an example. The head of the Cypriot FA Costakis Koutsokoumnis has blamed the UK media, referring to the "beautifully English word: 'allegations'." Julio Grondona, Argentinian Football President, claimed that Fifa "always have attacks from England, mostly with lies and the support of journalism."

The Fifa family's anger towards England is a prime example of how detached from reality Football's hierarchy has become. The allegations of corruption are such that action has been taken. Warner and Bin Hammam have been suspended. Blatter himself has promised reform. None of this would have happened if the claims were foundationless paper-talk.

It is rare in itself for the FA's blazer brigade to find themselves in the righteous camp against allegations of organisational corruption and failure, but in this instance all the FA are guilty of is standing up for what is right: how can an election be democratic and fair with only one candidate?

Under the ever-increasing spot-light, Blatter and co have begun to appear rather more like mafiosos than diplomats, right down to their self-awarded title: the Fifa 'family'. Blatter claimed that a special committee had been set up to persuade the FA against opposing the election - perhaps with an offer they couldn't refuse. He has asserted that outside forces will not force Fifa to change - he insists that this power will be kept within the family. 
  


The Godfather



Fifa President Sepp Blatter

 



The roots of Blatter's unchallenged rule burrow deep. To say he has been in charge for thirteen years, as President of Fifa, is to sell his role short. He has actually been in power at Fifa since 1975, with six years as Technical Director and seventeen as General Secretary, immediately before his ascension to the presidency. It could be argued that Blatter has single-handedly overseen the development (for good or bad) of the modern, commercially-driven game.

As for the FA, David Bernstein may not have woken up with a horse's head in his bed, yet, but it is clear that England is now on the outside of World Football's governing body. This does not bode well for England's chances in future World Cup bids. It does not, on the face of things, give us much hope for influencing the future of the world game.

On the other hand, the status and profitability of the Premier League does make England important. If the FA stick to their guns they may be able to force some change. If other major European leagues would unite with England -  the likes of Spain, Germany, France, Portugal and Holland - then Uefa could become a real problem for the Dons of Fifa.

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