Gary Lineker: Finding his voice?

It might not have been the tweet "heard around the world" but the impact wasn’t bad for a brief bout of sermonising in the aftermath of a nondescript football match.

Thousands of retweets and replies, questions immediately put to the England manager, hundreds of news articles.

In fact it took Gary Lineker more than a tweet to express his dismay at England’s performance on Wednesday night.

Just three tweets though. 415 characters:

 

Don't like England playing this system. So easy to play against. Brazil will thrash us if we line up the same way. Predictable and dated.

Even though results haven't been great, felt tactically England were maturing, but this is a step back to the dark ages of 2 lines of 4.

It's not about playing in straight lines, it's about playing between the lines. Depth gives flexibility, passing alternatives, creativity.

A former England captain having a dig at the current England team is nothing new and England’s performance against Ireland was distinctly lacking.

But the domestic season is done and dusted and column inches still need filled, even after a dullard friendly. So Angry Gary, 52, from Leicester, made headlines.

That Roy Hodgson, his blazingly red proboscis perhaps hinting at sunstroke, cited largely unseen comparisons to Borussia Dortmund and then asked for a definition of "dark ages" prolonged the teacup’s localised storm.

Silly season. All good fun for the detached observer.

The real shock was that this was maybe the most extensive punditry I’ve witnessed from the usually conscientiously mild Lineker all season.

Even previous Twitter "spats" have involved broadcasting rivals and Joey Barton rather than a discourse on tactics.

Amid the cloying cosiness of the Match of the Day studio, Lineker the ringmaster lets his mates get away with it, even now apparently too mindful of his switch to presenter to challenge Al, Alan or Lawro with any insight of his own.

His verdict on England might not have been the most incisive dismantling of an England performance but it tops almost anything Alan Shearer can offer about a Premier League game.

Maybe Lineker is one of those "typical twitterers" we used to hear about, sitting in his underpants being brave behind a keyboard only to revert to inoffensive conformity when he leaves the house, hawking anodyne puns and bags of crisps, existing in a state of constant complacency brought on by not being Adrian Chiles.

Saying not a lot and always looking a bit too confident of his place in the affections of the nation, little more than a Walkers branded Queen Mum.

No longer. Something finally snapped on Wednesday evening.

Alan Shearer thinking that simply being Alan Shearer is enough will no longer be tolerated. Alan Hansen thinking that simply being a parody of Alan Hansen is enough won’t wash anymore. Mark Lawrenson thinking that he just about knows where on earth he is just won’t cut it.

From next season there’s a new Lineker in the studio, a new mantra for Match of the Day:

"It's not about playing in straight lines, it's about playing between the lines. Depth gives flexibility, passing alternatives, creativity."

The mouse has roared.

Cashing in on football's global reach

It seems football’s ability to sail serenely through uncertain economic times continued apace in 2012.

Estimates suggest that, in the year of the much celebrated London Olympics, football attracted $4.5 billion in global sponsorship. Other sports continue to flounder in the wake of the global game.

Football sponsorship as business sense remains high on corporate agendas and big deals are still being signed. Arsenal have reportedly joined forces with Puma in a deal worth over £150 million across five years, snuggling up to their £150 million, five year deal with Emirates.

Exactly the sort of figures that might make a trophy hungry boardroom feel a little less famished.

Meanwhile Manchester United still lead their English rivals in commercial earnings, sponsorship drawn from a global roster of sponsors that extends to over 30 partner organisations.

United are the trailblazers for the wealthy elite, pairing off with other global brands, football carrying the message of airlines and beers, car firms and energy giants to every corner of the earth, providing the perfect ambassadors for multinational globalisation.

Others might have eclipsed his talent but it’s likely that David Beckham’s ability to sell underpants across continents will survive the end of his playing career.

In football’s brave new world success can still mean trophies but it can also be measured by global brand profile and a marketing strategy to crack emerging markets.

In the 150th year of the English Football Association maybe none of this should surprise us too much.

A more regulated game at home gave those Britons travelling the world, for Empire and for trade, a platform to spread the word of football.

Those early football missionaries often travelled in the hope of getting rich or adding to their existing fortunes. For them football was a sideline, but might they recognise something in the motivation of these big clubs, along with UEFA and FIFA, as they find new fans ("consumers") using the power of corporate globalisation and the potential of modern media channels?

Greed might bind the generations but our modern day footballing missionaries are at least less destructive than many of those that went before.

Maybe this is just another stage of football’s evolution, a concentration of wealth on a global stage, destined to exist above more mundane and impoverished local leagues.

There is at least one sobering thought for those of us in Scotland: while football enjoyed $4.5 billion in marketing revenues last year, the SPL was unable to replace a sponsorship deal that would register in the very low millions annually.

Same sport, different game.

Friday Video: Bert Trautmann

Bert Trautmann's story has always fascinated me.

From Iron Cross winning paratrooper to Manchester City's FA cup winning hero.

A man who defied the odds in the war (only 90 of his 1000 strong regiment survived by the time of his capture by British troops) and survived a broken neck at Wembley in that successful 1956 final.

As it has entered footballing legend the story has been reduced to the rather simple tale of a "good" German triumphing against the odds to reach the top of the English game.

It's much more than that.

Trautmann, now living in Spain and in his late 80s, was a magnanimous and determined character, capable of inspiring those around him and working hard to overcome the initial outrage that greeted his move to City in the late 1940s.

He could also be difficult, rash and given to unleashing a wild temper.

Contradictory? Perhaps. But Bert Trautmann was the product of quite extraordinary times.

Part of a generation who saw their childhood stolen by Hitler's totalitarian Germany, he volunteered for the German war effort before being conscripted.

As a paratrooper he was suddenly forced to confront death, among both his own comrades and the nameless young British and Commonwealth troops he faced. It was a stark lesson in the futility of war for a young man who thought he was simply doing the right thing for his country.

As a high profile German in Britain he had to face the obvious anti-German feeling of many.

More than that, as a high profile German in Manchester, he had to face the anger of the city's Jewish community when signed for City.

Trautmann worked hard to overcome this prejudice. Where he could have been a figurehead for continued hate and resentment, he actually became a figurehead for improved relations between two countries.

Respected and admired in Britain he was feted in Germany for his role in the difficult process rebuilding that country's reputation.

Eleven years after he was captured as part of National Socialism's vanquished army, 1956 should have been Trautmann's greatest year as he was voted player of the year and won the FA Cup.

But in the course of that triumphant final he broke his neck. That he played on seems a story too outrageous for Roy of the Rovers and cemented his place in the hearts of British football supporters.

Just months later Trautmann was again coming face to face with tragedy when his young son was knocked down and killed.

Again he overcome professional and personal adversity to reclaim his place in the Manchester City first team.

In 1960 he became the first foreign player to captain an English League representative side - the closest he would come to international football.

By 1964 his playing career was coming to an end. 60,000 fans turned out for his testimonial game as a combined City and United side took on an international select. Just 15 years earlier 20,000 people had protested at his signing.

It was a remarkable end to a remarkable playing career.

EPL: Newcastle v Bolton

I'm jumping ship this weekend.

Off to Newcastle to see Owen Coyle's Bolton take on the Toon in what some people call the best football league in the world.

That last time I was at St James' Park a chubby young scamp called Paul Gascoigne was playing for the home side. I was, obviously, extremely young at the time.

I'm indebted to Robert McCracken (one of the voices of The Commentary Box podcast) for providing a black and white preview of what I can expect:

Bolton visit St James’ on Saturday and in doing so they visit the team sixth in the Premier League form table. The Magpies will no doubt be looking to overtake Bolton, and if Everton do us a favour, Sunderland too.

I’m confident that the three points will be staying at St James’ and Bolton will be going home empty handed. After 6 games without a win the Birmingham result last week was vital. It was the first win since the 5-0 mauling of West Ham (Leon Best with a hat-trick?!) and although there were 3 draws in there too a win was a must to keep the Toon train rolling.

If Newcastle have aspirations of a top half finish and going by current form they should, then this game is a big one. Bolton will be in and around the positions that Newcastle will hope to occupy so snatching the points is a priority. The visitor’s away form isn’t the best, but it depends on the Newcastle side that turns up on the day – hopefully not the one that conceded 5 at the Reebok earlier this season.

Jonas proved himself as the player we all know he is with two superb assists against Birmingham and he could be vital in getting the result. His ability to get behind the full-backs and supply the killer ball is one of the biggest threats Bolton will face especially if he’s up against the aging Paul Robinson. Leon Best will be looking to make it 6 goals in 7 starts and with his run of form I wouldn’t back against it.

Kevin Nolan and Cheik Tiote have an important role to play in the middle of the park. Their ability outshines anything Bolton have in the middle of the park and they’ll need to use their presence and physicality to stop Bolton playing football in the midfield area. If they don’t do this then Newcastle will be easily foiled.

Newcastle have proven there is life after Hughton and Carroll, whether as fans we like it or not. A result against Bolton is never going to be season defining but Newcastle need to beat the teams round about them if they expect to be at the business end of the table. Pardew has the team playing with the same character and spirit that Hughton did – much to my surprise – so I’d be very disappointed if they didn’t bring Bolton back down to earth and end their winning streak. Let’s just hope the boys in black and white bother to turn up this time.

Follow Robert on Twitter @RMcCracken91

The Scottish Football Blog News Feed

Seeing Is Believing

"Over the last two or three years we have seen very wealthy owners become part of football clubs and therefore go on this kamikaze effort to spend their money."

That's Sir Alex Ferguson's take on the continued summer spending of some of Manchester United's rivals. Not that he's looking at anyone in particular, of course. Near neighbours never even crossed his mind.

But is there not something "kamikaze" about signing a player that you've never even seen? For £7.5 million?

Who would do that?

Well, Sir Alex Ferguson would:

"I didn't see any videos of him, it's the first time," Ferguson said. "Normally, as in the case of Javier and Chris, I saw plenty of video footage of them. You've got to trust your staff at times and our scout in Portugal was adamant we must do something quickly. So I sent David Gill down there to do the deal.

"You'd have to ask Real how interested they were but I know they were hovering and so were Benfica. So were one or two other clubs and that's where you have to make quick decisions in life and I'm not too bad about that. I also spoke to Carlos Queiroz about him. Sometimes you have to go on an instinct, you look at material. You look at their age and whether they're bringing pace, balance, desire to play and things like that."

I hope it works out. The dream is a Ronaldo. The nightmare is an Ali Dia. Somebody's got rich from it though.

Hartlepool United v Swindon Town (League One)

Hartlepool, I’ll be the first to admit, is not the ideal place for the Scottish Football Blog to find itself stranded on the Saturday that the SPL kicks off. Still, I didn’t get where I am today by moaning – much, so keeping calm I carried on to Victoria Park for the only show in town: Hartlepool United v Swindon Town.

A functional ground, not the best aesthetics but designed to get the job done, Victoria Park was most welcoming.

Once it had got over being not welcoming at all.

I’ll admit I don’t pine for the days of terracing. I mainly pine for a good sit down and a nice cup of tea. So my plan was to head into the Cyril Knowles Stand. A plan that stumbled at the first turnstile shaped hurdle when I was told I needed to buy a ticket from the ticket office.

No problem. Head to the ticket office. And stand ignored for a couple of minutes. Finally get served. Only to be told that I’d need to register for a seat in the CK Stand. OK, can I register? Only if you have proof of identification and address.

Why do we like making it so needlessly difficult to see a game of football? After explaining that I’d arrived from Edinburgh within the last hour and hadn’t thought to bring a passport or utility bill with me on my cross border jaunt I was informed this was non negotiable. Fine, then you can negotiate your game of football right up your...!

Eventually I discovered that I could get into other areas of the ground without being subjected to a full Criminal Records Bureau check so I made my way round to the Millhouse Stand and the terracing that runs the length of the pitch.

A quick pint and then out in time for kick off.

The first thing I noticed was the quality of the pitch which looked as though it would put most SPL grounds to shame. Apparently this is all down to a superb groundsman and the club have won awards for it. From what I saw the plaudits are well deserved.

The second thing I saw, and this struck me as a bit odd, was a gentleman of a certain age sitting on his own in the Swindon end of the ground wearing a blue dress and red and white striped scarf.

I’ve seen many things at football matches over the years but this was a new one. I was brought up, not dragged up and I know it’s rude to stare. But it’s difficult not to when the supporters next to you start chanting abuse at said supporter.

As it turns out this is a local, Hartlepool-ian gentleman who has vowed revenge on the club and takes his seat – sporting a dress and the colours of the opponents – in the away end at every match. So that’s that mystery solved - unless you’re intrigued to discover what led him to commit himself so fully to the wreaking of revenge. Maybe it’s better not to know certain things.

The football itself wasn’t bad. I was lucky enough to see a very decent performance lasting 90 minutes. Unfortunately it was Hartlepool who were impressive in the first half and Swindon who were impressive in the second. An entertaining 2-2 draw would have been even better had either team being able to keep it up for more than 45 minutes.

The home side started better. I was especially impressed by Andy Monkhouse who gave former Celtic full back Paul Caddis a torrid time out wide throughout the first half and Antony Sweeney who was involved in Boyd’s opening goal and provided a cute finish for the second as United looked unstoppable in the first half.

Another former Celtic youngster, Simon Ferry, was part of a Swindon midfield that couldn’t get a hold of the game and former Hibs winger Alan O’Brien looked, as ever, like the loneliest person you will ever see playing a team game. You’d almost think he was a victim of bullying the number of times his teammates look for another pass rather than feed him. Almost. Then you realise how poor he is at taking up the positions that would let him use his pace and realise how frustrated his colleagues must be.

By half time, having survived an almost Hithcockian invasion by a large flock of large seagulls around the half hour mark, Hartlepool looked in command and I was pleasantly surprised. In fact I’d almost convinced myself I was going to be their good luck charm, invited to every game as some sort of superstitious counterweight to the befrocked Laurence.

I should have known that I’m incapable of ever displaying any confidence at a football game.

Somehow the teams contrived to swap personas as well as ends at half time. Where Swindon had been lethargic and disjointed and Hartlepool fluid and cohesive there was now an almost complete reversal. Suddenly the impressive Monkhouse was anonymous and Caddis was featuring in attack as well as looking comfortable at the back. Mind you, Alan O’Brien still looked like he had wandered on to the field after staging a daring escape from the local nursing home.

Two double substitutions sealed the fate of this one as a clichéd game of two halves. Goalscorer Boyd and the soulfully monikered James Brown were replaced by McSweeney and former Gretna hero Fabian Yantorno and any lingering pretence of shape left Hartlepool.

Two minutes later Swindon replaced Ferry and ex Livingston player Jon-Paul McGovern with strikers Vincent Pericard and Thomas Dossevi. It only took Dossevi ten minutes to pull one back and, inevitably, they equalised two minutes after that when Charlie Austin made the most of cock up in defence.

Swindon could, will probably feel they should, have gone on to nick it but given that each side gave us a half of decent football a draw was probably a fair result. By the end even Alan O’Brien was marauding down the wing looking very like a footballer.

Strangely before the ninety minutes were up there was another invasion of aggressive seagulls. I’m amazed I got out of Victoria Park without any dry cleaning issues.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be back but if I do ever find myself with a couple of hours to spare in Hartlepool on a Saturday afternoon I’d certainly consider it.

Watching the future

If something amazing happens in tonight's England match will people remember where they were?

"When Rooney stabbed the referee? I remember it well. I was sat in my study, on my own. I remember Skypeing my best mate to talk about it but he wasn't online."

"Of course I remember where I was when Capello punched John Terry. I was lying on the couch in the front room watching it on my laptop with a cup of tea."

It's clear, with tonight's England game showing online only, that our shared experiences are on the verge of changing. This is a meaningless game, the dead rubber of old, but it represents a massive night in our understanding of sports broadcasting.

Scotland almost got there first. The original plan was to show this morning's Japan clash live online for free. For technical reasons the SFA failed to pull this off (No comment – Ed.) so BBC Scotland, somewhat grudgingly you feel, stepped into the breach.

Watching matches online is not new. Illegal streaming sites are increasingly popular and consistently one step ahead of the authorities trying to shut them down. Major championship games online offer office workers the chance to preserve their holidays but keep up with the action.

But these are alternatives, additional online broadcasts, used by those who can't get to the TV or who can't or won't send their hard earned cash into the deep, deep pockets of Rupert Murdoch and his ilk.

Tonight there is no other way to watch England and Ukraine. Online is the only show in town.

That the technology so far only allows one million people to subscribe is unfortunate. That the quality of the picture means watching the game is likely to be a fairly solitary experience removes something crucial from our enjoyment of watching football as well as striking another blow against the embattled pub trade.

Our surprise, however, shouldn't be about the game being shown online, only that it has happened so quickly. Circumstances, Setanta going bankrupt, ITV's financial woes, scrutiny of the BBC's expenditure (and lingering resentment within the corporation over the loss of the FA contract), left this match without a traditional home.

For any enterprising organisation that vacuum left an opportunity and, as is increasingly common, it was an online company that stepped into the breach.

In doing so they have given us a glimpse of the future. The traditional media is facing untold competition from the new media. Witness the Murdoch clan's increasingly hysterical attacks on the BBC. The focus of their ire now – whether they choose to admit it or not – is the BBC's online presence and the major obstacle it puts in the way of Rupert charging people to use his inferior websites.

It's clear that many traditional media outlets don't know how to react to an online world. New media companies are ahead of the game. That gives the consumer more choice but it will also change aspects of our life that had previously seemed sacrosanct.

That includes how we consume (and yes I hate using that word but in this context it seems right) our football. The technology will get better, games will become cheaper, online firms will become more tenacious and online football will become more and more common.

The BBC iPlayer and its commercial equivalents are the beginning of the merging of our computers and our televisions. Watching football online will become as common as catching up with EastEnders or Coronation Street.

It will give fans more choice and it will increase the already seemingly endless coverage of the game. It will also change the way clubs interact with broadcasters. It will have a huge impact on the way in which rights are distributed and the sums of money involved.

Clubs should already be looking in to the ways in which they can exploit this new terrain. I'm still not convinced many, or any, clubs have quite managed to get their online presence just right yet. Live football online could be one way of taking a club's web strategy to the next level. Are we too far away from a big club negotiating opt outs in central TV contracts to show their big matches online?

I don't think we are. Today is the opening salvo in a battle for broadcast football that will dominate the next 15 years.

Some fans won't be happy and some will miss out. Some clubs will make a better fist of maximizing their earnings than others. If you're watching the game today or not in the years to come you'll remember where you were when England played in Dnipro. Today's the day that football changes.

You take the high road

And so it raises its ugly head again.

Desperate, lonely and just wanting to be held by somebody, Rangers and Celtic have once again slipped into their negligee, touched up the make up, set up the webcam and logged on to www.ageingtartswantenglishlovers.com.

First we had former male model Martin Bain saying Rangers would be upping sticks in ten years. Then Peter Lawwell marched Celtic down to the docks and forced them to start advertising their wares: "Hello boys, we're a massive club, want to see what's underneath?"

There are a couple of reasons for all this posturing. Both clubs want more money. Rangers because their finances are in a worse state than Gordon Brown's, Celtic because they're convinced that only the financial straitjacket that is life in Scotland holds them back from being genuine challengers in Europe.

Posturing is, of course, all it is at the moment. Of easy virtue they may be but they still need somebody to ask them to dance.

Is it any different this time? Yes, I think it is for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, there is more of a will in England. Phil Gartside might not be the supremo of English football but his continued support for a restructuring at the top of the English gives Glasgow's least contented residents an ally down south. Money talks and Gartside is convinced that the Old Firm can help protect Bolton's finances.

How long will it be before he starts convincing the chairmen of similar sized clubs of the benefits? If he can show them the cash then they will fall into line.

Secondly, came the admission from Celtic that they would be willing to fight their way through the English leagues. Not for one minute are they likely to be asked to do that. The show of humility will be more than symbolic though if it paves the way for compromise with the Football League teams. Celtic have put something on the table so a deal can be thrashed out.

The FA? Likely to do the bidding of the Premier clubs when any decision is made. The SFA? Likely to be against a move but equally likely to be completely ineffectual in trying to mount any meaningful opposition.

UEFA's reaction will be interesting although the experience of the Welsh clubs in England sets a precedent. I believe the European authorities will be keeping a keen eye on this. Not because they are totally against such a move but because of the repercussions it will have elsewhere. Portugal's big clubs going to Spain? Holland and Belgium losing their big sides to France or Germany? And, ultimately, the move towards some form of a European super league. Rangers and Celtic could be the test case.

Which leaves us with the SPL clubs. Some supporters say let them go. Others say it would be the death of Scottish football. This week Dundee United chairman Stephen Thompson has been plastered over the media as a vocal critic of the move. That, though, is not the extent of what he said:

"I wouldn't like to see them go. But if they are going to go, then there is a proper way to do it - let's talk and bring something constructive to the table."

Not totally anti. But wanting to make sure that mechanisms to, as they say, manage the change are in place.

I've written about this before and I'll no doubt write about it again. I think this ends with Rangers and Celtic leaving. That, of course, would only be the end of the beginning for the clubs that are left behind. The winds of change might bring the opportunity for revolutionary change. Or it could bring about a disaster.

I really don't know. That's for the future.

For now the flirting has begun in earnest. Divorce and a second marriage lie not too far up the road.

Arsenal v Celtic preview

Battle of Britain Part Deux tonight then. 2 away goals look a lot. Celtic need an early goal. Chasing an early goal will expose the defence. It's a Catch 22 for Mr Mowbray.

Anyway if you want a slightly more indepth preview then click here to be taken to ITV's big, shiny football site where they've been kind enough to let me witter away as a guest blogger.

And if you were to push me I'd say Celtic will score. But it won't be nearly enough.

August: A style guide for English football writers

Paper asks for predictions.

Remember how you liked Kenny Dalglish as a player and how Alan Hansen was a good lad in the pub at the Euros last year.

Remember how Rafa masterminded the most incredible European Cup comeback in the history of humanity. Ignore how Rafa Benitez has a questionable transfer record and can get his tactics completely wrong (and find himself three down in the most incredible European Cup night of drama in the memory of all the universe).

Ignore how thin skinned Rafa appears under pressure. Ignore the increasing distance between manager and those players he hasn’t yet forced out of the door.

Choose Liverpool as favourites. Display confidence in prediction by backing them to win easily.

Remember how Alex Ferguson gave an exclusive to Hugh Mcilvaney and some other Jock journo last year. Remember that Michael Owen is actually a really dull interviewee.

Add addendum to prediction making it quite clear that Manchester United will do well to finish in the top five. What with Everton building on last year, ‘Arry Redknapp waiting to prove once and for all that he’s twice the manager Ferguson will ever be and Carlos Tevez ready to continue the prolific form that saw him score almost six goals last season.

Liverpool lose first game

Survival at the top is all about drive and determination. Point out that this will be the kick in the complacent backsides that Rafa’s boys need. And, anyway, old Redknapp’s always going to do something like this on account of being the finest English born manager to ever grace the game.

Manchester United lose second game

Phew. Look out article written when United lost early game last season. Back to drawing board, too old, too much success, too stubborn. Time for a younger man. Compare Fergie’s rage at full time with Rafa’s reaction as Liverpool beat Stoke on the same night.

Surmise that the whole balance of power in the league is being rewritten before our very eyes.

Liverpool lose third game

Oh, bugger. Clearly Rafa Benitez is wrong headed and arrogant, his team don’t like him, his tactics are wrong, his transfer policy horribly skewed. Probably cause he’s Spanish.

Not like dear old Sir Alex. Look at Old Trafford - the great man’s even going to get little Michael scoring again in time for the World Cup.

And did you not always say that this year’s title would be between Manchester United and Chelsea? If Rafa’s still in the job by next May he’ll be taking his team to sixth or seventh. If he's lucky. And did you mention he's Spanish.

Ensure at all times that readers are reminded of the importance of these massive games. That way they might not question why you can confidently predict that the greatest league in world football is all but over before some teams have played three games.

Retain all articles written. They can easily be dusted down next season.

Arsenal break English duck

Before their insipid performance against Arsenal Celtic managed 26 years without losing to an English club at home.

Of course some European records are misleading because games don't come up that often. You could say Motherwell haven't lost to Third Lanark for 40 years. Probably true but equally meaningless.

It was Brian Clough's Nottingham Forest who last won at Parkhead. Cloughie would have been amused that it was Arsene Wenger, who he came to greatly admire, that pulled off the same trick.

In that time Blackburn, Liverpool (twice) and Manchester United (twice) have found Glasgow inhospitable - although Liverpool's draw in 1997 was enough for an away goals victory.

It's really the two most recent games against United that have been the biggest achievement given the ever growing chasm between the English elite and Scotland's finest.

Last night was, perhaps, simply the natural order belatedly asserting itself.

Wenger's warriors

I was one of the non believers who wrote off Celtic's chances of even reaching this stage.

They proved me wrong in Moscow. They won't prove me wrong in London. A 2-0 win at Celtic Park has sent Arsenal into the group stages of the Champion's League.

I thought there was a chance Celtic might do better in the first leg. But I also thought there was a chance Arsenal could run riot. In the end the nature of the goals - one off William Gallas' back and one Gary Caldwell own goal - will allow the Celtic die hard to dream of what might have been.

The truth, of course, is that in pure footballing terms Celtic are minnows compared to England's elite. Their exceptional home record against Anglo invaders is a testament to perseverance, passion and no little luck.

Arsene Wenger has been the perfect guest during his Scottish sojourn. Praising Celtic's fans making the right noises about the Old Firm's involvement in a European League and conceding Celtic had made it tricky:

It was a fierce battle. Overall we dominated the game, but Celtic were always willing and always fighting.

We scored two lucky goals. It was a big fight and we needed a strong Arsenal performance.

But in his heart he knew defeat was unthinkable. Just as Tony Mowbray must have known victory would have needed little short of a miracle.

As ever Wenger was able to turn off that incredible selective blindness to accuse the Celtic players of roughing up his superstars. If I was Celtic minded I'd be happy with that. If it means Tony Mowbray's much vaunted footballing philosophy is to be tempered by a dose of realpolitik then they should be in decent shape for the battles ahead.

Financially Celtic will be disappointed. But the woefully devalued Europa League offers a chance of redemption. The harsh reality is that Europe's second string is the stage best suited to the Old Firm at the moment.

The European playing field is no longer level. Unlucky goals or not there is not a football follower in the continent who will have been surprised by tonight's result.

Money talks. And for all their support Celtic do not have the cash to compete at the level they would like to. The last 16 of the Champion's League is an achievement not to be sniffed at. It's hard to see how either Old Firm side will go further in the near future.

For that reason tonight shouldn't cause the national wailing sparked by Aberdeen's defeat or Scotland's capitulation in Norway.

An Arsenal win was entirely predictable. There's no shame in that for Celtic. The only regret for the neutral is that the thrilling Arsenal of Saturday didn't make it north of Hadrian's Wall.

Pool of Darkness

If his retirement plans are for real this time then this might be the last season we can enjoy Sir Alex Ferguson chewing gum on the touchline.

But if Liverpool win the title? Surely Fergie won't walk with his very own forces of darkness on top.

Has he spent the best part of a quarter of a century trying to "knock Liverpool off their fucking perch" only to exit the 'theatre of dreams' when they clamber back up?

Book Review: Best and Edwards: Football, Fame and Oblivion by Gordon Burn

Duncan Edwards and George Best. Entwined in Manchester United’s history and mythology. Separated by only a few years, they may as well have been from different worlds.

Edwards, the man child, the phenomenal athlete who would run all day for Matt Busby and who stood to conquer the world. Best, a man child in a very different way, the prodigy who did conquer the world.

One life snubbed out on a snowy Munich runway. One life snubbed out by an inability to cope with a world that his talent had created.

Edwards was the epitome of a lost breed of footballer: he trained and he played to a phenomenal level. But when he was done he went home, went to the cinema, shyly courted a girl.

Best provided the blueprint for every player who has ever had the world at his feet and then pissed it all away.

Burn brilliantly examines their backgrounds, their motivation and their character. Bobby Charlton overshadows the book: sensible, dull Bobby, forever dealing with survivor guilt, battling to keep Big Dunc’s memory alive as Best created a new reality for footballers that Charlton could never understand.

Matt Busby is here to, more complex than the genial patrician of United legend, looking on them both as sons. And never understanding how he had lost them both.

Burn comes to grips with immortality: Edwards, still talked about in hushed tones, but remembered in the name of a boarded up pub that attracts nothing but junkies. And Best, remembered in full technicolour, but also as a gaunt, broke drunk who took every second chance and flung it away on booze and birds.

In their own ways Edwards and Best created the Manchester United we know today. They also created the idea of a modern footballer. One was left to go blameless into eternity. The other was left to kill himself.

Burn transports us back to Manchester in the late fifties when Edwards ruled the roost in a quiet understated way, full of optimism but level headed to the end. And then to the 1960’s when Best, always too complex to enjoy optimism, turned the professional dream that Edwards had into something squalid and dirty. Faced with the twin temptations of football and celebrity Best chose the latter. When he crossed that line the end was as inevitable as it was painful.

Burn handles all this expertly. We end up with a study of the nature of fame and celebrity. Munich denied Edwards the chance to live with celebrity. Charlton survived and chose the route he thought best honoured Edwards. Best chose the route that brought him adulation, the route that a hundred reality TV stars dream of. It was a life that Duncan Edwards could never have imagined and a life that George Best could never escape.

What the Champions League final told us

1. History counts for something: Man Utd over egg the historic legacy/club of tradition/do it for Sir Matt stuff. But are Chelsea fans not embarrassed that the only dignitary they can find to lead the team up the steps at the end is Peter Kenyon? United had Sir Bobby Charlton, arguably the most famous English footballer of all time. No doubt Kenyon was relishing leading the winners. Hubris.

2. Edwin van der Sar's honesty: "Fucking hell" is the most refreshing post match quote for some time.

3. England's brave John Terry: Mr Chelsea volunteered to take the final penalty. The culmination of years of believing his own hype. He was the wrong man to take it. An old fashioned centre half (and arguably the worst centre half on the pitch) should be aware that he was the wrong man. He is blind to this because he feels Chelsea's destiny is now linked inexorably to John Terry's destiny. The sight of Terry on his arse, crying gladdened the heart.

4. Frank Lampard: It would now seem official that the media consider Francis to be the only man in Britain to have ever lost a loved one.

5. Take your chances: For all their dominance in the second half Chelsea's only goal was lucky. They couldn't get another. Likewise Manchester United came very, very close to regretting the chances they missed in the first half. Profligacy led to penalties.

6. Ronaldo: Can score against Chelsea and perform on the big nights. But is still prone to stupidity and took the worst penalty of all time. Until John Terry's.

7. Drogba: A moody wastrel. Justice that this big girls blouse should be sent off for handbags. If red wasn't deserved on the night it was deserved for the pathetic figure he has cut this season.

8. Ashley Cole: Is actually a decent player. He should remember that.

9. Rooney: The cross for Tevez and the pass to Ronaldo proved just how good he is. World class, if jettisoned by tactics.

10. Essien: Terry could take lessons in character from his team mate. Roasted by Ronaldo for 45 minutes in the second half he was a man transformed. Quality.

11. John Terry, Referee: Two players are having a minor tiff. Terry sprints across and starts shouting and shoving. This is not peacekeeping. Time and again he does it. Clive and David on ITV thought Vidic over reacted to Terry trying to calm things down. Terry was calming Vidic down by grabbing him round the neck. The man is an idiot and Chelsea should sell him. Ironic really that in a team of millionaire buys it is a homegrown player who has developed the biggest, and potentially most divisive, ego.

12. Avram Grant: A strange looking man who appeared to have some sort of disability at the end. Got them one further than Jose though. That should, but won't, be enough for Abramovich.

13. ITV: Their "Russian" video pre match was patronising and quite probably racist. Never failing in their search to find the lowest common denominator and then lower the bar even further.

14. Ballack: Unlikeable but quality when he chooses. Could have eased the pressure in the first half had he not wanted to spend most of the night copying Jonny Wilkinson. A great player though and looked like he cared at the end, unlike:

15. Anelka: Crap penalty, crap person. As his manager and teammates teetered on the verge of total emotional breakdown he stood and smiled at the end. Odious, stupid or both.

16. Paul Scholes: Ran the first half show. Legs gave way in second half and that helped Chelsea as much as it hindered United. Should have been replaced earlier.

17. Fergie: The greatest of the greatest. Looks stupid without his glasses though. And Nike should be aware that dressing a 66 year old in a white cagoule makes him look like a refugee from a bowls tournament.

18. Andy Townsend: "Chelsea could have done no more, genuinely, they could have done no more." Terry and Anelka could genuinely have scored.

19. Steve Ryder: Copious lacquering or wig. We deserve to know.

20. The game: Was a belter. Thankfully.

And finally:

21. David Taylor: The big UEFA job turns out to be as one of Platini's man servants. In the past eight days must have handed his boss about 1500 medals. Hope he's paid well.

Know Your Employees

"Judge him over five seasons."

So says David Gold, co-owner of Birmingham City and paymaster of Alex McLeish. In a strong message of support for his manager Gold paid tribute to the man who he thinks will get City back to the top flight. That said, Gold thought he would keep them in the top flight so he might not be a great judge.

Some fans are grumbling that Steve Bruce would have kept Birmingham in the league if he had not been replaced by McLeish, who now has a two for two success rate in keeping struggling teams in the drop zone after inheriting them.

All conjecture of course, but as McLeish faces up to salvaging his oh-so deserved reputation in the most competitve league in Britain, the distant rumblings that Gold can hear are probably not the sound of Aston Villa and West Brom fans chuckling.

Rather it is likely to be the sound of McLeish dusting down his prime managerial tactic and searching hastily for the exit door.

Sir Alex is more than United

When pundits hand out plaudits they can't help but buy into the great game of comparisons.

So Sir Alex Ferguson must be measured against Brian Clough, Bob Paisley, Matt Busby et al. They point to his singular European triumph as evidence that Paisley and Clough surpassed him, they point to his attitude as evidence that "gentleman" Sir Matt was somehow the bigger man.

But for the pundits down south football ends north of Newcastle (many of them would prefer it football stopped north of the trophyless citadel that is the Emirates and Wenger's Bash Street Kids) they rarely take into account what Ferguson did with Aberdeen.

Breaking the Old Firm stranglehold of the game, coming close in the European Cup and winning the Cup Winners Cup meant before he even travelled to Old Trafford Ferguson had already achieved greatness. With Aberdeen Ferguson had already "done a Clough" - although arguably Ferguson's successful run at the Dons was more sustained than Clough's at Forest - with a provincial side.

The achievements at Old Trafford - a bigger club than Clough ever succeeded at - surpass Busby. Which leaves only Bob Paisley and his three European Cups. For my money Ferguson's continued dominance domestically put him at the very least on a par with Paisley.

But when you take the achievements at Aberdeen and United together Ferguson's 10th Premiership is simply further proof that Sir Alex is the best of the best.

Boring?

King Kev has spoken. The eternal optimist is worried that the FA Premier League is becoming boring. Indeed the messiah's second (third? fourth?) coming is not going to be like the last time around. Kev's playing for the best of the rest title. For everyone outside the 'Big Four' fifth is where it's at.

Blackburn Rovers were the last team to win the top flight outside of Manchester United, Arsenal and Chelsea's Johnny Come Lately billionairres.

But the feeling goes that its not all that dull because the title, the UEFA Cup slot and relegation will all be decided on the last day. So a league within a league (or leagues within a league) is alright if they all provide some drama.

That is certainly the interpretation that suits the media. Sky have been able to bill every weekend for the last three months as the biggest since, well, since the last one. But what then is the point of being Wigan? Safe, sound and bereft of any real meaning except that not being relegated is an achievement. Is that enough?

And what does this say about the SPL? Not since Aberdeen in 1984-85 has the Old Firm hegemony been broken and only twice in that time (1994-95 and 2005-06) have they failed to make up the top two.

This year might be a special case because the fixture debacle has, perhaps, artificially prolonged the title race. The UEFA Cup race is still alive as Hibs, Motherwell and Dundee United scrap it out to see who can finish less badly. We now know that the failure of the grand Gretna experiment meant that relegation was a foregone conclusion before a ball was kicked.

So there is still something to play for but is it exciting? Rangers and Motherwell still have games in hand which is making it difficult to keep tabs on the runners and riders. But that's not really drama as much as a succession of unfortunate incidents wrapped up in a pitiful administrative system.

The main talking point of the weekend was the award of a corner kick that wasn't to Celtic. Sure, titles can turn on such incidents but when the referee becomes the story then the quality must be questioned.

At 1pm in Aberdeen on Saturday you wouldn't have known a game was on, even if you were driving past Pittodrie. The locals all said the same thing: for the Dons the season ended weeks ago. Last night Setanta were bigging up the battle for seventh(!) place as an important match. Clearly someone had forgotten to let the Hearts players see that bit of the script.

In essence, with relegation decided so early every team from Aberdeen down have been playing for nothing for a couple of months or more. No amount of real or imagined drama at the top can make up for the lack of quality or passion that so many nothing games delivers.

So if the English league is dull then it's hard not to see the Scottish game as duller. Should we be worried? What's the point in worrying? This is the way it is. We put up with it, we dust ourselves down and we get on with it. That's the SPL way.

Keep football on the pitch - not in court

Dave Whelan, sugar daddy of Wigan Athletic, wants to sue West Ham and the Premier League. Terence Brown, largely discredited ex-West Ham Chairman, wants to sue West Ham. Ousame Dabo is threatening legal action against "loose cannon" Joey Barton.

OK, all the stories are down south and something should certainly happen to Joey Barton. But they show a worrying trend. Football is big business and that means people are far less likely to keep things in house. It’s one of the reasons that Hibs appointed an employment lawyer to their board this season.

But football is not all about the money. Essentially it remains about clubs and their fans. We shouldn’t run to the courts at every opportunity. The people who think referee Steve Conroy should have taken legal action after Laryea Kingston’s racism slur are wrong.

I don’t think they would be quite as keen if it was one of their best players doing the slurring.

And where would it stop? Another Duncan Ferguson case every week?

The football authorities need to change their disciplinary procedures. Nobody can argue with that. But the spirit of the game, already diminished, will be lost forever if every decision, every fight, every argument is dragged through the courts.

So here’s my advice: the authorities need to develop a spine, become more open and clarify their rules and everyone involved in the game should grow up.

So football can be a real bastard sometimes? That’s why we love it. But we want it on the pitch not in the High Court.

Why England Will Always Say No

Let’s not turn Celtic’s victory on Tuesday into yet another debate about the Old Firm going down south.

We’ve had the arguments so many times it’s tiresome. Yes, on their day they can live with anyone. Yes, they’ve got a huge support.

But these factors have been constant for close to a decade. And still nothing’s happened. The truth is that however much Peter Lawwell and David Murray want it to happen it never will.

And it’s their own fault. Why would English football, with the image problem that hooliganism has caused it over the years, willingly invite Celtic and Rangers to join.

As long as their fans continue to spew vitriol out of the stands at every opportunity the Old Firm will be pariahs south of the border.

The irony is, of course, that officials at both clubs have repeatedly stuck their heads in the sand over the sectarian issue.

So for the foreseeable future Murray and Lawwell will be stuck in no-man’s land of their own making: staring wistfully at the cash cow of the Premiership but covering their ears to the reasons for their exclusion.