74 Chris Lakers review of the sea

Chris Laker sees reasons to be cheerful - even as a Tottenham fan.

As another Premiership season comes to an end, there are of course the usual high and low points to discuss from what has been the tightest title race in years.

There have been many memorable high points during the campaign. Maybe you remember the Beckham free-kick that sent England to the World Cup this summer. It could be the joy of seeing Brighton gain their second successive promotion that will stay with you forever.

However, my own personal high point of the season came at Highbury when Arsenal's French fop Robert Pires tripped over his Alice band, promptly ruling himself out of contention for any football for a very long time. Justice to the common man I think!

Other high points must be the laughter that surrounded Blackburn midfielder Garry Flitcroft when he was unmasked as 'serial adulterer' to the lap dancing fraternity, or when Sven Goran Eriksson gave the 50+ club hope, by bedding his own shooting star - Ulrika Jonsson.

Now, although these are all worthy high points, the one thing I shall miss most during the off-season will be Ron Atkinson's brilliant comments for ITV's Champions League coverage.

I shall miss great one off-lines such as: 'They're like a colander at the back', when assessing Bayer Leverkusen's defensive capabilities in their game against Arsenal, among other gems.

But, as they say, good and bad even themselves out, and this is particularly relevant in footballing circles, a fact which now leads me on to the low points.

Looking back, there are several that spring to mind. Obviously as a Spurs fan, Arsenal's success must grate, but I tend to console myself in the knowledge that next season Manchester United will be back and Arsenal will have to settle for runners-up again.

A low moment was also seeing Des Lynam struggling to retain his famous calm and composure, while struggling even more with the ridiculous ramblings of 'expert' Terry Venables on the 'all-new' Premiership highlights programme.

But without a shadow of a doubt, the lowest of the low points must have been when Phil Neville came on for his injured brother Gary during the Champions League semi-final first leg, thus virtually securing his seat on the plane to Japan and Korea.

Roll on the World Cup ey?

73 23

Pride comes before a fall, and in football all it takes is a little recognition from your fellow professionals and it's all downhill from there. First Robert Pires did his knee, then Roy Keane's hamstring twangs and now David Beckham breaks his foot. There is no doubt about it; a new curse has struck English football. The curse of the player of the year!

Six players were nominated as the shortlist for the player of the year just a few weeks ago, and within three weeks half of the candidates are on crutches.

The award seemed likely to go to Beckham. He single-handedly developed a cure for German measles, stopped the proliferation of land mines and carried an average England side through the qualifying stages for the world cup (I don't think any of that was true). For developing into England's Maradona, without the unhealthy vitamin substitutes, the prize was sure to go to Saint David.

Then Ruud van Nistelrooy started outscoring everyone in Europe and the Premiership, considering his recovery from a year long injury crisis, this was remarkable.

Finally one of those nasty French types remembered how to play football and with a series of superb strikes still couldn't get Arsenal past the last sixteen in the Champions League.

Keane and Hasselbaink are the outsiders with another prolific Henry season being rewarded with a nomination. For my money the award will go to van Nistelrooy - at least then there won't be an issue with mounting some tricky steps on crutches, probably.

It is well documented that the Manager of the Month curse means that an award will shortly precede a fairly catastrophic sequence of results, and it isn't a myth, just look at this seasons awards.

August; Bolton won the award and were top of the table with maximum points, just 2 wins in the next 22 games saw them plummet towards relegation, which a late revival may yet see them avoid.

September; John Gregory won the award for Aston Villa and was out of the Villa job before the season was out. But just four wins from the fifteen games after the award suggests he jumped before he was pushed.

October; Tottenham, followed by three wins and four defeats in November and December when Glenn Hoddle's team hit relegation form, picking up 11 points from 9 games.

November; Liverpool, followed by three wins from the next eleven games, a blip, which may already have cost them the title.

December; Newcastle, Bobby Robson provides the only example of a decent months results following this award, with 5 wins in the next 7 games.

January Southampton, only one win in the next eight games after January.

February Newcastle, followed by a collapse in form with only one win in the next six games, leaving them clinging on to fourth place.

March; Liverpool, followed by immediate elimination from the Champions League.

It is no coincidence that the managers of Manchester United and Arsenal are both chasing double trophy wins and neither have won manager of the month!

Michael Owen was the nations darling after the World Cup in France (1998), voted BBC Sports Personality of the Year just a matter of months later, before suffering from his hamstrings for most of the subsequent time (the odd sojourn against the Germans notwithstanding).

As for George Burley, who was the majority choice for last year's manager of the year. The ultimate football lesson of relegation seems the most likely for this follow up season.

In football it seems the glittering prize ceremony must be paid for and the bill is usually already in the post to the winner.As Ant and Dec stretch their larynxes and put another nail in the coffin of popular music. We dream about the squad that Sven could take to Japan if not for this old-fashioned restraint of only picking players born in England. Svens not English, so why not pick a squad from all Premiership players. Does Hyypia have a grandmother from Welwyn Garden City? What about the van Nistelrooy’s of Chipping Sodbury? Now this would be a dream team.

Goalkeepers

Jurek Dudek (Liverpool). Great shot stopper, good command of the box. Arsenal may well rue their rejection of him earlier in the season.

Shay Given (Newcastle). Was in the players football association team of the season and there is no doubt he is in fine form. Very athletic if not the tallest.

Carlo Cudicini (Chelsea). Brilliant saves, very athletic. Should be awarded for his work in improving food sales in West London by keeping Bosnich out of the team.

Defenders

Sami Hyypia (Liverpool). A commanding presence whose reading of the game is brilliant. Does anyone know if he is quick because I can’t remember him ever having to sprint?

John Arne Riise (Liverpool). A booming free-kick, plenty of goals, driving player who would get into every single Premiership side – and probably Real Madrid. The most ginger thing in the world (apparently).

Rio Ferdinand (Leeds). Keeps getting better. When he starts weighing in with goals he will look an even bigger bargain, despite the record fee.

Gary Neville (Manchester United). His brother may not be the most popular player in England, but Gary is the most consistent right back in the top division since Lee Dixon (of ten years ago).

Wayne Bridge (Southampton). Much improved and may well fight off Ashley Cole due to his extra degree of calmness and reading of the tempo of a game.

Gareth Southgate (Middlesbrough). The juries still out on his thinking behind joining ‘boro but his form has been superb, should play for England ahead of Campbell.

Olof Mellberg (Aston Villa). Nasty piece of work who is in the squad because he is the beardiest Villa player since Peter Withe.

Midfielders

Robert Pires (Arsenal). Before the player of the season curse struck him he was set to light up the world cup. Quick, accurate and deadly – he would be a sniper in a war situation, or a conscientious objector or something.

Patrick Vieira (Arsenal). A low key season devoid of too much controversy has seen Vieira mature like a fine wine. (a bit too Swiss Tony. ed.)

David Beckham (Manchester United). The media darling of the starry Manchester midfield. Broken metatarsal or not he is developing into a great player.

Freddie Ljungberg (Arsenal). Would be a bench player in this team Freddy is so adaptable and such a good team man that he is probably overlooked when people look for star players. His goals have won several games in the championship run-in that should see Arsenal crowned champions.

Roy Keane (Manchester United). The snarling driving force behind last seasons champions. Would walk into any side in Europe.

Ryan Giggs (Manchester United). Special player who can dribble and open up defences like no other premiership player.

Paul Scholes (Manchester United). Vastly underrated role model for every short, ginger asthmatic kid out there. There’s a ginger thread running through this team.

Steed Malbranque (Fulham). He's in for the name alone.

Forwards

Ruud van Nistelrooy (Manchester United). Starting to show the effects of a long first full season back from serious injury. Can he do it again next season, undoubtedly.

Thierry Henry (Arsenal). Mercurial brilliance, great goalscorer, scorer of great goals. His lack of return in the champions league is a black mark though.

Ole Gunnar Solskjaer (Manchester United). Almost 30 goals, many from the bench or from the left or right of midfield. An ultimate team man. You would be very happy to see Ole warming up in a crisis.

Michael Owen (Liverpool). The stand-in England captain may be a bench warmer in this company but carries too many of England’s hopes for those fragile hamstrings in the summer.

Gerald Hasselbaink (Chelsea). Flat track bully par excellance. Will score twenty a season in the Premiership with ease but not international class, only just edges Shearer out of the squad.

Starting XI (4-4-2). Dudek; Riise, Hyypia, Ferdinand, Neville G, Pires, Keane, Vieira, Beckham, Van Nistelrooy, Henry.

69 When football curses go bad

Pride comes before a fall, and in football all it takes is a little recognition from your fellow professionals and it's all downhill from there. First Robert Pires did his knee, then Roy Keane's hamstring twangs and now David Beckham breaks his foot. There is no doubt about it; a new curse has struck English football. The curse of the player of the year!

Six players were nominated as the shortlist for the player of the year just a few weeks ago, and within three weeks half of the candidates are on crutches.

The award seemed likely to go to Beckham. He single-handedly developed a cure for German measles, stopped the proliferation of land mines and carried an average England side through the qualifying stages for the world cup (I don't think any of that was true). For developing into England's Maradona, without the unhealthy vitamin substitutes, the prize was sure to go to Saint David.

Then Ruud van Nistelrooy started outscoring everyone in Europe and the Premiership, considering his recovery from a year long injury crisis, this was remarkable.

Finally one of those nasty French types remembered how to play football and with a series of superb strikes still couldn't get Arsenal past the last sixteen in the Champions League.

Keane and Hasselbaink are the outsiders with another prolific Henry season being rewarded with a nomination. For my money the award will go to van Nistelrooy - at least then there won't be an issue with mounting some tricky steps on crutches, prooably.

It is well documented that the Manager of the Month curse means that an award will shortly precede a fairly catastrophic sequence of results, and it isn't a myth, just look at this seasons awards.

August; Bolton won the award and were top of the table with maximum points, just 2 wins in the next 22 games saw them plummet towards relegation, which a late revival may yet see them avoid.

September; John Gregory won the award for Aston Villa and was out of the Villa job before the season was out. But just four wins from the fifteen games after the award suggests he jumped before he was pushed.

October; Tottenham, followed by three wins and four defeats in November and December when Glenn Hoddle's team hit relegation form, picking up 11 points from 9 games.

November; Liverpool, followed by three wins from the next eleven games, a blip, which may already have cost them the title.

December; Newcastle, Bobby Robson provides the only example of a decent months results following this award, with 5 wins in the next 7 games.

January Southampton, only one win in the next eight games after January.

February Newcastle, followed by a collapse in form with only one win in the next six games, leaving them clinging on to fourth place.

March; Liverpool, followed by immediate elimination from the Champions League.

It is no coincidence that the managers of Manchester United and Arsenal are both chasing double trophy wins and neither have won manager of the month!

Michael Owen was the nations darling after the World Cup in France (1998), voted BBC Sports Personality of the Year just a matter of months later, before suffering from his hamstrings for most of the subsequent time (the odd sojourn against the Germans notwithstanding).

As for George Burley, who was the majority choice for last year's manager of the year. The ultimate football lesson of relegation seems the most likely for this follow up season.

In football it seems the glittering prize ceremony must be paid for and the bill is usually already in the post to the winner.

68 Will Brooklyn Beckham be a foo

Brooklyn Beckham is the latest in a long line of celebrity babies - how will he fare?

I read somewhere that Ladbrokes is offering odds of 500-1 on Agassi's and Steffi's foetus winning Wimbeldon in 2019. Now that's hardly encouraging when you consider some bookies are offering 350-1 on the Lochness monster turning up in the Chessington zoo in the next 12 months.

Ladbrokes is just being sensible. Every sportsman is made up of around 100,000 odd genes and although science has figured out which of these made Gary McAllister as bald as a pigeon's egg, we have no clue which one makes Fabien Barthez execute specatcular saves and in the very next minute, suddenly lose concentration, fumble and miss more balls than Cinderella.

It's in this context that Italy's decison to call up 14 year-old Diego Armando Junior Maradona for their Under-17 National team seems weird. That's right. Diego Junior is the son of none other than the legendary “El Pibe” and his mum has a court certificate to prove it.

Diego Junior's story begins in September 1986. Months after Maradona punched his way into English ignominy with THAT goal in Mexico, the Argentine's legendarily wandering hands also found their way to young Neapolitan fan Cristina Sinagra. A bouncing baby boy was the result. Diego himself has never recognised the child, but after conducting DNA tests in 1993 the Italian courts confirmed the boy officially of his loins.

Junior has been part of Napoli's youth program since 1997. After his surprise call-up 2 months ago, he and his Under-17 teammates were given a run out against Italy's senior squad, where Gennaro Gatusso attacked him with tackles that owed more to Bruce Lee than to the beautiful game.

Not surprisingly, Junior couldn't make much of an impression. Post the session, Italian coach, Giovanni Trapattoni, on being asked - "How did you rate the little Maradona?", replied, "Just that: little." But that has hardly deterred hero-worshipping Italian fans, who, for some reason, still believe their footballers are of the same quality as their racing cars and pasta. Not to mention, Serie A-deprived Neapolitans who, on seeing Diego Junior, still tend to behave as if they have seen an apparition of Virgin Mary.

Unfortunately, this mad race to sign up young footballing talent has spread to the shores of Britain. Stewart Jackson of top village side, Hatfield Heath, was in the news, recently, for trying his best to sign up a player who just turned twenty two. Twenty two months, that is.

"There is no doubt that Brooklyn Beckham is good enough to get into our reserve side" explained Jackson, as he tried to tempt Brooklyn with a dinkie car, a shirt and a bib bearing his famous father's No. 7.

"Brooklyn kicks the ball exactly like me"- observed David. But footballing ability isn't the only thing father and son seem to have in common. One of Posh Spice's friends let slip that whenever Victoria wants to make two-year-old Brooklyn laugh, she raises up her skirt and flashes her knickers. Apparently it works every time.

Agreed, parents do pass on identifiable characteristics , but the idea that they always pass on talent is quite preposterous. Albert Einstein's wife, Mileva, got a better physics degree than he did. One of their children suffered some kind of mental breakdown and the other showed no particular talent for mathematics, thinking or funny hairstyles. Bernard Shaw rightly countered Jean Harlow's suggestion that they have a child by saying, 'but what if it had my beauty and your brains?'

So tennis' most awaited foetus may not be that perfect sports machine. It's perfectly possible he has Steffi's backhand and Andre's volleying skills, or even worse, Steffi's nose and Andre's taste in headgear!