It's all over now, baby blue...

Goal! Hand! Whistle! Cheat! Thief! Scandal! Robbery! Disgusting! Replay! Fair play! Legacy! Embarrassed! Mortified! Ashamed! Tainted! Over?

Yes, it's over. The cliché-ridden aftermath has been inevitable but necessary. It has been a bitter blow. The reaction has been a mixture of anger and anxiety - played out like a scene from a school-yard kick-a-bout. Henry's blatant handling of the ball at the far stick was comical, as was Martin Hanssen's (and his linesman's) inability to see it. Shay Given raced to the ref, furiously thumping his arm, valiantly attempting to persuade Hanssen to discount the goal. The rest of the Irish players followed, wildly gesturing with their hands. But the decision had been made. Henry had got away with it. And just like in school, Ireland couldn't answer back. They knew they'd been wronged. This had been an injustice. They'd seen it with their own eyes. But this was it. The game was over and it wasn't fair. Tears followed, eyes furrowed into the lights of the Parisian night. There was nowhere to go. Except to the mixed zone and to go public with the anger and anxiety. Lots of words, lots of bytes. But just a moral victory. Just.

There have been calls for the game to be replayed. Calls for the French Football Federation to 'do the right thing'. Lots of words. This won't happen but it makes us feel better, doesn't it? It makes us feel better that the whole world is on our side, that we're right to feel the way we do. It helps with the anxiety - that situation whereby we have so much to say and too little time. It's like being present at a funeral of a dear friend - 'It's okay, we know what you're going through. It's all going to be alright'. It reassures us. We are the good guys. We are the 'real' winners.

But, what is winning? Is it succeeding at any cost, a ruthless victory? Experts and analysts everywhere constantly talk about the great teams doing what it takes to win. Going that extra inch. Thierry Henry went that extra inch. Yes, it was an illegal act and a damning indictment of the current status of professional sport. But, he got away with it. In the same situation, would the FAI agree to a replay? No. Why would they? The mistake wasn't Henry's. Retrospectively perhaps, he feels he made a mistake because of what's followed. But not in the moment. In the moment, he instinctively used his hand to set up a goal for a team-mate. And they won the game. In similar situations, it's said that players should put pressure on referees to make decisions on the spot - particularly in relation to penalty kicks. On Wednesday night, Henry put pressure on the officials to make a call. And they got it wrong - the mistake was simple human error. And at least two of the match officials must take responsibility for that. There should be FIFA sanctioning and an apology should be given to the Irish team, management and to the country at large. The governing body have kept sheepishly and unashamedly quiet since the incident and this behaviour is both outrageous and unacceptable.

Sport, like everything else, is a reflection of society so should people be so surprised that cheating, robbing, lying, etc exist in a sporting environment? This has long since been a Darwinist world where we do anything to get ahead. Politics, justice, health, arts, entertainment, you name - when you reach the top, you've normally left many dead bodies in your wake. What if an Irish player 'cheated' to score the winning goal last Wednesday night? Would we be bowing our heads in mass embarrassment, as the French would like to have us believe they're doing? I think many Irish supporters would like to think they'd take the moral high-ground. Honestly, I think we'd behave exactly as our continental counter-parts - mortified, but relieved and thankful we're heading to the World Cup. Is that immoral? No. It's just natural.

Do Ireland need a miracle?

In a word, yes. Last Saturday's result was a sickening one for Ireland to swallow but, was always likely to happen with the way the side was set up. With Lawrence and Duff both in wide positions, the impetus was handed to the French full-backs to get up and support Henry and Anelka at every available opportunity. Sagna did most of the counter-attacking throughout the opening half before Evra realised that Lawrence's sole purpose on the pitch was to prevent the United full-back from getting forward - Lawrence never even attempted to take on Evra and was happy to stay on the half-way line for the majority of the game. Clearly he was under strict instructions but I don't think it would've been too much to ask for McGeady to have been handed a start in the home fixture. Granted, the Celtic wide-man has been patchy for his international side but, he has the ability to get past his man and deliver a decent ball into the box. He also has the ace up his sleeve of being able to play on both sides. Lawrence and Duff played to a certain standard we've grown accustomed to throughout Trapattoni's tenure with Ireland - passionate, hard-working and distinctly average. Sure, they probably quelled a decent amount of potential raids by France down each flank but it was to the detriment of Ireland's chances of scoring goals from open play. This is knock-out and Ireland needed to score at least once at Croke Park

In Ireland's five away games during the group-stages of qualification, they amassed a total of six goals, scoring twice against Georgia in Mainz and Cyprus in Nicosia. In Ireland's four play-off ties of the modern era, they've scored a total of one goal away from home - Ray Houghton's header against Belgium in 1997. They've never won a game away from home in a play-off situation, going down 2-1 against Belgium that night, losing 2-0 to Holland at Anfield in 1995, defeated 1-0 by Iran in Tehran back in 2001 and drawing 0-0 with Turkey back in 1999. What are the chances of heading to St. Denis on Wednesday and scoring even once? You can do the math...

So, how do Ireland need to approach the second leg if, like Trapattoni has said, there'll be no change in personnel? The first thing is decide what role Robbie Keane is going to have. Last Saturday, he was anonymous (yet again) and didn't seem to understand where he was playing or what role he was fulfilling. Doyle occupies the hard-running target man position while Keane just seems to play a little behind him in the hope of winning the occasional flick-on or knock-down. His role is so central, the actual tactics back-fire on the Irish because he's so far up the pitch leading to frantic running back when defending. Keane is the talisman within this side and needs to firstly, find out what his role is and secondly, deliver a calibre of performance on Wednesday that he's been unable to deliver for his country for the vast majority of his career. If Keane believes he's a good enough footballer to play in a deep-lying '10' position, dictating the offense, then let's get him in that position. On Wednesday, Duff and Lawrence will be given instructions to push further forward so Keane will have more of an outlet to link up with the wide-men than he's had all through Trap's time in charge. We need goals on Wednesday and cannot simply rely on set-pieces to get them. Let's take on the French and create chances.

That is the second thing Ireland need to do - try everything they can to test Hugo Lloris, a terrific goalkeeper but, as his side's recent 5-5 draw with Marseille in Ligue 1 proved, not unaccustomed to errors. Andrews and Whelan both had efforts from distance get Lloris busy last Saturday - Ireland need to pepper his goal on Wednesday night and who knows? Maybe, just maybe, an early goal could come Ireland's way. However, if the French take an early lead, game over.

Finally, Trapattoni needs to get the key decisions right. Last Saturday, selection was an issue - perhaps he was right to start both Lawrence and Duff but, one thing's for sure, when Ireland needed a goal, it was McGeady who came on. Irregardless, on Wednesday, Leon Best cannot be brought into the game with the majority of the second half still to be played - this is knock-out and Kevin Doyle needs to play the full 90 minutes of every international. The gulf in class between the starting eleven and the bench became horribly evident when both Best and Stephen Hunt entered the fray - neither finding the rhythm or pattern, Hunt finding it difficult to keep control of the ball and find a team-mate with a pass. These mistakes can't be repeated on Wednesday. If they are, it's not going to end well.

Chelsea v Manchester United: Immediate feedback...

Hmmm...Where do we start? United's second loss to a top-four side in quick succession, their London rivals move five points ahead and, possibly more ominously than both those things, level on points with Arsenal with the Gunners having played two games less.

But, some very positive aspects to United this afternoon - not least that their performance was right up there as one of their most impressive so far this season. It was the visitors that bossed midfield - doing to Chelsea what they had hoped to do to their bitter Northern rivals. The effectiveness of Darren Fletcher, who was at the fulcrum of every stifling of the Chelsea diamond, cannot be overstated. Missing him at Anfield was a momentous loss, not least because of the usual incredibly high standard of his play when against the top domestic sides. Today, the Scot and Carrick finally seemed to gel as a pair, with the latter's ball retention and passing completions of a particularly good standard. Anderson contributed his combativeness to proceedings from a little higher up the pitch, making it difficult for Michael Essien to (a) settle on the ball and (b) charge up the pitch on those rampaging runs we've come to expect from him. Ballack and Deco could never get a rhythm going with the Portuguese' ineffectiveness ensuring his inevitable withdrawal while Lampard was patrolled excellently by John O'Shea.

So, United will be frustrated with the defeat, of that there's no doubt. But, in the long-run, this performance can provide Sir Alex Ferguson's side with the ammunition with which to finally ignite their season. Their central defensive problems, so apparent mid-week against CSKA Moscow, were extinguished today - the conceded goal a result of a poor refereeing decision and some super finishing by the Chelsea captain. Their midfield was solid and determined with Carrick's early-season patchiness non-existent and with Rooney as a leading man, they always have a chance. But, there are still problems.

The end product from Valencia is still poor, as is his inability to cut inside when counter-attacking - his pace is frightening but can be dealt with easily by opposing full-backs who know how to marshal down the touchline. On the other side, there is a huge gap that needs to be filled sooner rather than later. Giggs today was effective and is always a natural leader but his deputies, namely Nani, have not proved their worth. Park is a useful squad member while Tosic is still incredibly unproven at the highest level, despite his clear talent and potential. The Berbatov question still lingers and puzzles though a side that includes the Bulgarian is surely a better proposition than one that excludes him.

So, where does this leave the Premier League title-race? Chelsea look to be well set-up, especially over the next number of league games - Wolves at home, Arsenal away, Man City away and Everton at home. They should be looking to take 10 points from 12 and then prepare for an incredibly simplistic-looking festive season that takes in encounters with Everton, Portsmouth, Birmingham and Fulham. United's next few games probably shouldn't be viewed as difficult though an away trip to West Ham in early December could prove problematic. For Arsenal, today's result could prove a major positive in their quest to feature prominently in the run-in though games with Chelsea and Liverpool before the Christmas fixtures could lead to dropped points and a tail-off in their current emphatic displays.

Plenty of time left though. Plenty of talking points too, no doubt.

Pejic at Vancouver...

It takes about fifteen minutes to reach the Swangard Stadium from downtown Vancouver. A SkyTrain ride to Patterson, followed by a brief stroll through Metrotown’s Central Park leads you to the beams that light up the corner of Kingsway and Boundary. With the autumnal reds and oranges, the uber-white of the Whitecaps entrance and the dyed green-like quality of the sod, someone’s been messing with the contrast levels out here. It’s the Caps against the Portland Timbers, United Soccer League semi-final play-off first leg. In HD.

This is the First Division of Major League Soccer. And this is where Shaun Pejic currently plys his trade. Following a defensive crisis that saw the departures of a couple of long-serving players, the Whitecaps needed cover quickly. The former Welsh Under-21 international had been at York since February on a short-term deal but following contract talks he was released from Kit Kat Crescent and come the start of August, he was on a bus to Portland with his new Whitecaps team-mates. He watched from the stands as his new side lost by a solitary goal in front of almost 11,000 at PGE Park – the same attendance that was at Wembley back in May when Pejic togged out for his final York appearance in their 0-2 FA Trophy final defeat to Stevenage.

The Hereford-born centre-back, a product of the Wrexham youth set-up, fell out of favour at the
Racecourse following relegation to the conference and the arrival of Dean Saunders. Having only broken into the first-team in 2002, Pejic settled into the side just in time for promotion to the 2nd Division and prospered under Dennis Smith. Though injuries cut down his progress, he featured prominently throughout the Football League Trophy winning season before a cruciate ligament injury sustained in August 2005 was a further blow to Pejic’s hopes of establishing himself in the Wrexham XI. A steady partnership alongside Steve Evans was what followed Pejic’s rehab though the arrival of Brian Little as manager, coupled with relegation to the Conference ensured the centre-back would eventually struggle for game-time and it was inevitable that a move was on the cards. Back in February, Pejic (along with ex
central-defensive partner Evans) was released and was picked up by Martin Foyle’s Minstermen.

Pejic’s time with the Whitecaps started impressively. He made his debut in a scoreless draw at home to Carolina Railhawks, afterwards stating how he was impressed with the standard saying it was on par, if not better than that of the Conference, particularly when it came to the technicality and quickness of the players. His new boss, former Icelandic international Teitur Thordarson, seemed pleased with his new acquisition outlining how ‘he (Pejic) wins everything in the air, is tactically very good and plays safely and surely’. The good start went hand in hand with the Whitecaps eventual play-off qualification and with Pejic at the heart of the defence, the club went on a run of just one defeat in ten games. Here at the Swangard Stadium on this October evening in British Columbia, the Whitecaps secure a 2-1 semi-final first-leg victory over Portland in front of a crowd of 4,500 with Pejic looking assured, calm and steady at the back. A 3-3 second-leg draw followed just three days later with the Caps facing Canadian rivals,
Montreal Impact, in the play-off decider.

There was to be no fairytale ending to Pejic’s first season in Vancouver though. In the first leg of the play-off final, his own-goal provided Montreal with a lead they never relinquished – eventually beating the Caps 2-3 at the Swangard. A week later, an elementary mistake from Pejic led to his 28th minute straight red card and saw the Impact move to 4-2 in the series from the resultant penalty. They eventually took the final and the USL -1 Championship 6-3 on aggregate.

One might think that the United Soccer League (or the MLS for that matter) represents a professional graveyard for former ex-English League players. Cynics will point at Justin Fashanu and even David Beckham as examples of ex-shining lights, living out their final years within a sub-standard North American environment. But one thing’s for sure – despite a long-held worldwide reluctance to accept the sport’s existence in this part of the world, it’s still here. And against the odds (and arguably in contrast to its British counterparts), doing more than merely surviving.

Following the inevitable demise of the North American Soccer League in 1984, soccer’s future here looked over. As Hugo Sanchez, Peter Beardsley and Franz Beckenbauer all headed to Mexico ’86, the North American teams they each had romantic dalliances with were no more. The San Diego Sockers, Vancouver Whitecaps and, most illustrious of all, the New York Cosmos, had succumbed to a waning national interest in the sport, subsequent falling numbers at the turnstiles and the harsh reality that seducing big-name legends of the beautiful game was to the long-term detriment of North American soccer. These were the wilderness years.

And yet somehow, Canada were at Mexico ’86. Without a domestic team in a professional league, they held that gorgeous French side of Platini, Giresse et al scoreless until the 79th minute of their opening group game and belied their international experience at the highest level despite exiting the competition at the earliest stage. The man responsible for the international sides’ success was the former England and Blackpool goalkeeper Tony Waiters who had led an unfancied and unfashionable Vancouver Whitecaps to an unprecedented NASL title back in 1979. As the sport self-destructed south of the border, the quiet northern neighbour slipped into the soccer spotlight for a fleeting moment in the summer of ‘86. It was to be twenty years before the country was involved at the highest level of North American soccer again – when Toronto FC were granted an MLS franchise.

Vancouver have featured in the USL for the best part of two decades – originally it was the American Professional Soccer League, then the A-League.Cast in the shadow of Major League Soccer, the United Soccer League’s top division isn’t so much a poor relation but has long since had to deal with the threat of an MLS expansion and the inevitable poaching of the its biggest sides. The fear is not without valid foundation. The most successful of the league’s teams since its conception - the Seattle Sounders - were awarded a top-flight franchise in 2007 and made their debut in Major League back in March with 32,500 people in attendance at Qwest Field.Portland Timbers were awarded their franchise earlier on this year too and will begin their tenure in the Major League in 18 months time while the Montreal Impact’s much-mooted move to MLS is an inevitablity. One other side USL side will soon be joining the Timbers in the illustrious Premier Division of North American soccer – the Vancouver Whitecaps.

The Caps will return ‘home’ in 2011 – their rich soccer heritage, sports-mad city and lease agreement on a renovated BC Place – a 60,000 capacity all-purpose stadium currently hosting Canadian Football League side the BC Lions. It was at BC Place where the John Giles-managed Caps played their NASL home games in the early eighties. Those days of sell-out crowds, glamour players and big games under the lights still remain as history. For both the Vancouver Whitecaps and Shaun Pejic, there’s hope for a repeat. Soon.

Apologies...

Hello all,

Because of a recent move to Vancouver (where I'll be spending the next year), the last number of months have seen absolutely zero new content from me here so deepest apologies for that.

However, above is something I did whip up recently for our friends at Wrexham AFC about Vancouver Whitecaps centre-back and former Red Dragon, Shaun Pejic...

Beckham finally stands up for himself...

The original Welsh wizard, Billy Meredith, the mercurial talisman of Manchester rivals United and City, was once described by The Manchester Guardian newspaper as having such incredible ball control and trickery that the matches he played every Saturday 'were his (Meredith's) one means of communion with his fellow men.'

His breaking bread with fanatical followers is now stuff of legend - an early example of public relations nous or a natural response from a man so revered that his transfer between local rivals failed to affect his legendary status as darling of the beautiful game? As much as the current crop of runts-of-the-litter wannabees and 'gonna-bes' lend themselves to immediate cynical judgment and condemnation, at the turn of the century, football was played by gentlemen with a sparkle in their boots more so than a glint in their eye. They still had chinks in their armor back in the early 1900s though one must argue that nowhere was it as sharp, formal and immoral as is so prevalent in the modern arena. Meredith was famous for chatting to spectators as the action unfolded on the other side of the pitch but was also implicated in a match-fixing scandal for which he received a two-year ban.

I began thinking of Billy Meredith upon watching the footage of David Beckham's recent confrontation with a group of supporters who attended LA Galaxy's friendly with Milan. Clearly unhappy with the Englisman's loan spell with the Rossenieri, fans of theMLS franchise booed Beckham every time he touched the ball and proudly displayed signs that read - "Go Home Fraud" and "23: Repent", "Hey Becks, Here Before You, Here after You, Here Despite You" and my personal favourite, "Is evil something u are ... or something u do?" As the half-time whistle went, Beckham headed for the vocal band of supporters with a degree of purpose not seen in the player since his now infamous flick-out at Argentine Diego Simeone in Saint-Etienne back in the summer of 1998. He gestured toward one man in the crowd, easily interpreted as 'why don't you come down here and say that to me?', which our merry friend duly did with both a steely eye and rather surprisingly, agility akin to that of a cat. And then security came.

It was nice to see Beckham behave in a manner easily related to. Long since diluted and churned out as a key player in the bland, robotic arm of world football's public relations and marketing department, Beckham finally appeared to behave like an actual human-being. Many will insist that in the situation, he should've turned his head, his cheek and irrational thinking and simply trooped off but many have never found themselves in the same scenario. Sometimes, idiots need to be treated with the derision they deserve and in this case, an idiot wearing a baseball cap back to front should feel the brunt of extra retribution. Like the Cantona incident at Selhurst Park fourteen years ago, many players feel that an eye-for-an-eye response goes a long way to potentially eradicating the virus of disgusting and over-the-line verbal abuse, most notably inflammatory comments relating to ones family, sexuality or personal loss.

Do I think Beckham should've hit him? That depends on what the guy said because if 'supporters' think they have a God-given right to come to a football game, or any type of public display be it sporting or otherwise, and hurl vindictive and hurtful abuse at another individual, they should be made an example of. And I don't mean ejected from the arena and handed a ban for twelve months. These parasites will never learn, clearly displayed by Galaxy 'supporters' interviewed minutes after the incident. One 'fan' actually says 'We boo a lot of players - they don't come out and challenge our guys' before another man, calls Beckham 'stupid' for 'calling out a drunk fan'. He continues by outlining that Beckham is a professional and should've kept himself under control. And right there lies the problem - how dare a footballer react to abuse from a brainless group of stereotypical US sports fans - clueless but ruthless owing to their genetic self-belief that everything they speak is the truth.

If these 'supporters' were asked why they were abusing David Beckham, many would say that it's because of the lack of respect he has paid to the LA Galaxy owing to his loan move to AC Milan. I've got my own thoughts on the Beckham commodity and there's not enough space here to go into it but suffice to say that I think that the experiment hasn't worked and Beckham knows it - the effect the move has had on him as a player is worrying and even short stints training with Arsenal and five months with AC Milan renders a bigger debate - that a country's relationship with a sport cannot be traced to the introduction and subsequent role of one player. It's a short-sighted and unimaginative solution to a problem that's been in existence now since the World Cup of 1994. And if MLS chiefs believe that Beckham, Juan Pablo Angel, Temoc Blanco et al are well-placed to co-exist in a mundane and colourless environment, they really are in dire need of re-evaluating things. The real heroes of the MLS in its current state are players like Kenny Cooper, Ricardo Clarke and Conor Casey - guys who the League should be marketed around. Though it's inevitable that the continued over-reliance on NASL-type big player/big-money transfers and media hooplas is thought of as a necessary evil in order to attract attention and investment. But, the MLS needs to back itself more and have faith in its ability. Sooner rather than later, the US are going to get to the quarter-finals of a World Cup and a conveyer belt of talent will continue to grow as football develops amongst the glitterati of leafy subarbia and taps into the political sphere of 'soccer-Moms'.

Where, you may be asking, does Billy Meredith fit into this diatribe? Well, English League football during his time centred around local figures, loved and appreciated by respected clubs' supporters, no matter what jersey they wore. It was a thread that continued into post-War Wembley days out - the likes of Stan Mortensen and Stanley Matthews were beloved by football fans in general while the outpouring of widespread emotion following the Munich Air Crash was a reflection on how appreciated Busby's Babes were on a country-wide scale. It was really only the political tension of the late 70s and early 80s that pushed hooliganism to an obscene level and paved the way for modern day howling and arms-wide remembrance of the '58 disaster by Manchester City fans as well as 14 year old boys being charged with homophobic abuse aimed at Sol Campbell as well as the incredible ignorance to racism in Spain, as perpretated in the direction of Thierry Henry, Emile Heskey and Lewis Hamilton.

So as much as Meredith nattered to supporters when his side were on the defensive, I wonder how he'd react to the current impasse between players and supporters? He abhorred the influence of money within the game and took a leading role in the formation of the Player's Union but something tells me that he wouldn't have simply stood to one side if a fan aimed some venomous comment in his direction. He'd take the tooth-pick out of his mouth and respond with a clever quip before spending the rest of the game weaving and slaloming down the wing, safe in the knowledge that the game needed him more than he needed the game. Remind you of someone?

Tev really needs to shut up...

"It has come about because I could not stand my sporting situation at Manchester United any longer"

"My first year was good in all senses. I played in the games and felt respected by the coach but in my second year some strange things happened that I still do not understand.

"After the game at Old Trafford where Liverpool beat us [4-1, in March], Ferguson ignored me almost as if I was to blame for the defeat when really Liverpool dominated us all over the pitch.

"After that the fans called for me to be in the team but he never took the advice on board because he always knows best.

Carlos Tevez was a so-called 'darling' of Old Trafford.

The supporters and he had an immensely close relationship, apparently. When he laughed, they laughed with him. When he cried, they too shed tears - not least when it became apparent that he was no longer going to be sticking around Old Trafford.The fans railed at the club with chants, banners and heartfelt pleas. When he scored in two successive games - at home to Manchester City and away to Wigan, he had outlined his worth to Manchester United. Q.E.D.

Well, if the Argentine and his beloved band of gullible and foggy-eyed supporters thought it was going to be this simple, they really deserve each other. Firstly, throughout the entire transfer 'saga', Tevez (expertly advised by the lovely Kia Joorabchian) was nothing more than a priss, playing up to his love of the club's fans while at the same time lambasting Sir Alex Ferguson et al for not having ironed out the details of a long-term contract yet. Secondly, the fact that Tevez behaved like this on Argentine radio stations was akin to if David Beckham gave an exclusive to East End Radio post-'flying boot' incident.

The actual comments attributed to Tevez in recent days hint at a player who goes against the work-horse so beloved down Sir Matt Busby Way. He blames Dimitar Berbatov for his departure - the Bulagarian making it harder for him to start games. He blames Ferguson for signing Berbatov in the first place and for also losing faith in him. He blames everybody but himself. If a new signing arrives at a club, one must dig harder and work harder in an effort to win a starting place but Tevez never did that. When given opportunities in the starting lineup, the Argentine failed to shine (particularly away to Villa and at home to Spurs) and it was only as an impact substitute that he showed glimpses of boundless energy and an ability to change a game (at home to Spurs, away to Wigan).

When speaking to a work colleague recently about Tevez' behaviour, I came to the conclusion that it was a cultural thing. Take the role of Kia Joorabchian - upon moving to Brazil and taking over Corinthians, it's clear that the South American obsession with alpha males, 'cahones' and walking the walk while talking the talk infiltrated the Iranian's persona. Perhaps he's always been this way but something tells me that his time building an empire in Sao Paolo taught him that the only way a diminutive, Middle-Eastern university drop-out could succeed in South America was to become South American in every possible way - bolshy, confrontational and ruthless. These personality traits can be viewed as downright stereotypical but one can't hide from Tevez' bolshy, confrontational and ruthless approach to a potential contract with United.

Unfortunately for him, Fergie doesn't respond well to coercion and when forced into the corner, always responds with the biggest punch of the bout - for Tevez, read McGrath, Whiteside, Ince, van Nistelrooy, Beckham, Keane and Ronaldo.

The irony of the whole Tevez story is that his likely destination is going to be Manchester City or Chelsea - two places where the Argentine will flourish but his career will flounder.

More on Madrid...

Following on from the last two posts here, check out this interview with Professor Simon Chadwick from Coventry University.

Simon is the Chair in Sport Business Strategy and Marketing there and spoke with us on 'Off The Ball' on Newstalk last Friday when I was in the producer's chair.

Presenter David McIntyre began the interview by asking him where Madrid are getting all this money from...

Enjoy.

Moderation - a vulgar term for the instigators of the beautiful game...

As Myles na gCopaleen, Flann O'Brien once wrote that moderation was an alien concept to the Irish. But, spare a thought for the Spanish, eh? They find the term disgusting, insulting and clearly believe the idea should not be entertained for long. In a country where spectacle and performance is lauded and appluaded, perhaps we should've come to expect this. At a club where Puskas, di Stefano and Gento instigated global football communities to believe in the fanciful notion of a sport being something 'beautiful', maybe we shouldn't be too surprised.

It's still incredibly strange to accept that with Florentino Perez as President, every door within the Spanish economy seems to open with astonishing ease and a cavalier wink from those on the inside. As details have emerged in recent days about the monetary agreements put in place by Perez in light of the captures of Kaka, Ronaldo and the likely arrivals of David Villa, Xabi Alonso and Franck Ribery, the most interesting pieces of the jigsaw remain question-marked. The Spanish savings bank 'Caja Madrid' has agreed to give Madrid a 76 million euro loan against two un-named pieces of collateral. This collateral cannot be the club's training ground, having been re-zoned back during Perez's first period as President. Is it the Bernebeu? Surely not. Then again, a similar agreement is in place with Banco Santander and would be led to believe that more collateral is in place with this deal.

All this leads one to question how exactly Spain can be entertained by such daredevil financial antics when the country lies in the midst of a forecasted 20% unemployment level for the end of 2010 - a figure that could rise to over 25% given the right set of circumstances. As much as Madrid are the club of the people and Perez is the returning all-conquering hero, all heroes have a price and the astromonical monies quoted in articles featuring Madrid's current planned expenditure are mouth-watering. It's a balance-sheet of gargantuan proportions but one, I'm sure, Perez has the utmost faith in sticking to. One would imagine he's watching his back carefully and is confident of off-loading as many as seven players to help in his ushering-in of a new Galacticos era. But surely a global meltdown has to have an effect on an elite sports brand like Real Madrid?

Then again, perhaps football has beaten the bust. Or is it headed for a spiralling, out-of-control free-fall? It's been threatened with it for years and has always come out the other side; beaming, brazen and richer than ever. And something that was raised in The Times this week - are we just jealous? Should we applaud Perez and his bravery to remain incredibly confident, upbeat and postive in the face of worldwide financial adversity? He hasn't built up a multi-million pound business empire by being stupid and clearly his self-belief outweighs anything else within his psyche. However, when analysts sneered and gesticulated in disbelief during the first Galactico period, there wasn't an economic downturn to use as a stick to beat Perez with. This time around, there is. Currently, all financial institutions around the globe, particularly those dealing in private equity, are in perilous positions, even if your currency is Real Madrid.

Moderation...

The fickle nature of Madrid's philosophy continues...

Just after midnight, I caught the news that Kaka was finally a Real Madrid player. Weeks of intense speculation had finally ceased with Perez beginning casting on this year's summer blockbuster, 'Galacticos - The Return' . The conclusion was somewhat inevitable though my immediate reaction turned to Garry Cook and Manchester City.

Back in January, the City chief executive returned empty-handed from Milan, despite talking the talk in the days leading up to his Italian sojourn. Cook accused Kaka's then-employers of 'bottling' a possible deal between the clubs despite it being apparent that City were ill-prepared for hard-line negotiations. When it became clear that figures and salaries and percentages were still to be ironed out and confirmed by Cook, his employers and a small gaggle of legal experts, Kaka's representatives smelled a rat. They felt that this project appeared to be a fantasy to Manchester City, that this now-flush club had got itself caught up in a land of make-believe and were just happy to play in the sand-pit with the big boys. Ultimately, this was the case, complete with Cook whingeing to all who listened that it wasn't City's fault the deal fell through but Milan's. Oh, and they also broke a confidentiality agreement. So there. Hmmmpffff...

The continental transfer market is like a high-class poker table - in an instant, experienced pros can tell apart the steely veterans from the knock-kneed novices. And the cross-table flirtations between Kaka and City made sure that Florentino Perez was buying in to the next game. He had to be patient though - it wasn't until mid-May when he formally announced he was running to succeed Ramon Calderon as Madrid president. But, the Brazilian playmaker was on his radar. Ricardo Izecson dos Santos Leite once made the claim that he belonged to Jesus - but Perez fancied his chances. And anyway, he could take Jesus at the poker table.

And so it proved. We're about to return to an era of hard-line serial monogamy at the Bernabéu with Perez flirting with and seducing, not just a host of the world's top players but the club's core fanbase. In both cases, the demographics should know better. Actually, scratch that. The players are pawns in a political game and utimately, are merely stocks and shares. Not that they care. With a glittering move to a club like Real Madrid, the incoming players are insured in an iron-tight, win-win scenario - bank balance increased, profile increased, etc. So, the players probably shouldn't know better at all. The fans on the other hand...

Perez has been at Madrid before - it was a period of constant rumour, suspicion, idle gossip, not-so-idle gossip, four directors of football, six coaches, 20 players and €440m spent in just three years. He sacked Vincente del Bosque who had guided Madrid to 2 European Cups and 2 Primera Liga titles. It's also worth remembering that the Galactico period ultimately won Madrid a solitary Champions League and domestic league title while post 2003, the club failed to win a single trophy in the next three seasons.

But, this is what the fans want. The club has claimed two domestic league titles in the last three years but the supporters want change. They want big names. They want the headlines again. The question is, do they want to sacrifice trophies again?

Eric the Gardener...or life-coach

This one's been around for a bit.

Just in case you haven't seen it - definitely worth checking it out.

Am trying to get hold of Eric for a radio interview actually - will keep you updated as to how I'm getting on.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qORhrcfSRmQ

8 simple ways to beat Manchester United...

With the Premier League sewn up for another season, Manchester United will look to their meeting with Barcelona in this year's Champions League final as the real litmus test of where this present side ranks in the club's illustrious history.

Since the turn of the year, United have been far from convincing in their domestic and continental performances with their wavering certainly costing them a unique quintuple whilst at the same time ensuring the Premier League title race went on for at least four weeks too long.

The ship-steadying of recent weeks has all but cemented another championship crown but the Champions League semi-final displays against Arsenal only served to illustrate the decline of United's North London rivals. The second leg result in particular flattered to deceive - Arsenal were hopeless and for the most part, United could afford to casually remain in third gear. In many ways, that game offered a definitive visual of what this season has been like for United - always in a position to adjust their performance levels at any stage if required - see the Tottenham game when the second half was a blitz of non-stop peppering of Heurelho Gomes' goal. Scoring five goals in 22 minutes was a sight to behold, though once again, the combustion of a visiting side at Old Trafford was a truly bizarre occurrence.

But, for United, it's time to forget about domestic silverware. This season's 18th league title might equal Liverpool's record but it's the Merseysiders 5 European Cups that continues to irritate Sir Alex Ferguson. To the most uniterested bystander, the Scot has under-performed in the Champions League, missing out on trophy successes in 1997 and 2002 in particular. The former saw a semi-final defeat to eventual winners Borussia Dortmund while Bayern Leverkusen destroyed the dream seven years ago - a 2-2 first leg draw at Old Trafford essentially putting paid to United's hopes of a final showdown with Real Madrid.

So, what are United's chances against Barcelona? On the outside, very good. The Catalans will be missing three first choice defenders, Andres Iniesta and Thierry Henry are both doubtful while historically, despite a 4 - 0 Romario / Stoichkov-inspired thrashing at the Camp Nou back in 1995, United haven't done too badly against them. Barca have long since been the favourites for this year's Champions League crown though since the Chelsea semi-final, many feel that their creaky defence will ultimately cost them the ultimate crown. But let's concentrate on how Barca can win the game. Essentially for Barcelona, there are 8 simple ways to beat Manchester United:

(1) Learn from last year.

Twelve months ago, Thierry Henry was introduced as a substitute when Barca were chasing the game at Old Trafford. This time around, Henry, Eto' and Messi must contribute evenly up front. The Argentine carried far too much responsibility last year and requires assistance to unlock the United defence - both Eto' and Henry need to make up for their peripheral cameos in last season's semi.

(2) Probe United down the flanks.

According to sources within Old Trafford, John O'Shea has been promised a start in this year's Champions League final. Barcelona might look at this as a weakness but the Waterford native has been incredibly impressive throughout the campaign and many would consider him one of United's most valued and consistent performers this season. Rather worryingly, Patrice Evra has been flaky since the turn of the year and seems far too taken with his offensive runs than with defensive responsibilities. Against Tottenham, in particular, Evra couldn't handle Aaron Lennon - if Barca switch Henry to the right, Evra could find the going tough.

(3) Be flexible up front.

Though Bara will probably look to isolate Henry with O'Shea, a better bet will probably be to switch Messi to the left and bring Henry across to battle it out with Evra. Messi always looks to cut inside when attacking down the right but particularly if Anderson and Park are handed defensive directions, his space may be restricted. Therefore, giving him licence on the left would see him stick to creating and instigating from that side while Ronaldo will hardly be charged with tracking back to close down the gifted Argentine.

(4) Stop Cristiano Ronaldo.

Easier said than done, ain't it? But, with the probablity of Wayne Rooney playing wide left, Ronaldo becomes intrinsic to United's attacking. If, for whatever reason, he isn't having much joy down the flank, the Portugese can just as easily be pushed up front as a target man. If he plays, Keita may be given extra responsibility to track R7 while Sylvinho's sole purpose will be to shut Ronaldo out of the game. But, the flexibility of the wide-man gives United many options and it's up to Barca to be prepared for all eventualities.

(5) Be as industrious as United.

It goes without saying that Ji Sung Park and Anderson will feature in a 5-man United midfield alongside Michael Carrick, Ronaldo and Wayne Rooney. With YaYa Toure deployed in front of the back four for Barca, the onus is on Xavi and Iniesta to provide perspiration as well as inspiration and counter-act the healthy work ethic of the dynamic United duo. Anderson, in particular, can be quite inconsistent though and is usually prone to gaining somewhat needless yellow cards. If United get too much space, particularly in the centre of midfield, they will exploit and punish you in other areas.

(6) Re-establish the goal rush.

In the group stages, Barca scored 18 goals in 6 games, including 5s against Sporting and Basel. The goals continued at the knock-out stage - seven against Lyon, five against Bayern. But, against Chelsea - Barca's first outing against an English team since last year's semi finals, they managed one goal from two games - that last gasp Andres Iniesta strike. So, in Barca's last four games against English opposition, they've scored just once. In the Champions League final, it's critical that they score, preferably more than once. As Wigan found out last night, United always find a way to score and can count on a variety of sources to do so. Barca need to do likewise.

(7) Keep the discipline.

Chelsea went to the Camp Nou for the semi-final first leg and delivered a superb away performance. Somewhere between the cat-calls and dissenting voices, there lay a side on the ropes - battered, beaten and unable to get dig any deeper. What let Barca down most was how they allowed Chelsea's performance to eat away at their attitude. Suddenly, everyone was out to get them - most of all the referee. Chelsea kept their heads while around them, everyone was losing theirs. On the pitch (and off it), there appeared no calming influence for Barca, no one willing to take control of the situation. Contrast this to the second leg - the winning strike from Iniesta only came about because Barca refused to give in. They had to work hard for the opportunity but kept their discipline as well as their positive brand of football. This approach is critical in the final - Barca need to be prepared for United not giving an inch but also anticipate them giving a mile.

(8) Eradicate defensive lapses.

At the Camp Nou against Lyon in the knock-out stages, Barca conceded two goals as a result of some incredibly poor defending. For the majority of the competition, the club has also had to put up with constant criticism of their defending. With Eric Abidal and Dani Alves ruled out through suspension and Rafael Márquez also missing through injury, Barca's already maligned back-line is in tatters. Sometimes though, this can be a god-send as the coach purposely advocates a tighter approach at the back owing to the change in personnel. But, the onus is on Pique and Puyol to ensure United are made work hard for their chances.

Roman Empire crumbling to pieces...

In this beautiful game, it's the most irrelevant and seemingly meaningless moments that have the most destructive of effects.

If Michael Essien had closed down Jason Koumas before the Welshman's cross was volleyed home by Emile Heskey at Stamford Bridge last April, Chelsea could very well be the reigning Premier League champions. If John Terry's posture when taking penalties leaned him forward instead of back, Chelsea could very well be the reigning European champions. If.

Would we be talking about a 'Chelsea crisis' if they were the domestic and European champions? Yes. Why? Because, if Manchester United were playing as poorly as Chelsea currently are, it would be reported as 'the end of an era'. For Roman Abramovich though, his (and this current Chelsea side's) era ended in September 2007.

When Jose Mourinho left the Fulham Road, it was reminiscent of the effect Elvis had on rock 'n' roll when the US Army came a-calling. This arrogant, pompous but wholly unique and adventurous creation ripped apart, abandoned by its talisman and leader.

Whereas rock 'n' roll could count on the emergence of dedicated followers and students to carry its weight and message to new generations, Mourinho was the past, present and future of Chelsea Football Club. He had built a side, moulded and sculpted it, observed as it challenged and overcame the tired and generic big-two of Manchester United and Arsenal. He revelled in how his team were ridiculed by many but praised by those that mattered. The Great One's individuality may have been taken as 'runt-of-the-litter' upon his arrival in England but since he's walked away, the Premier League has returned to a valley of dull mediocrity both on and off the field.

Both Avram Grant and Luiz Felipe Scolari's tenures at Stamford Bridge were bland and largely forgettable. The Israeli would counter-claim by pointing to the fact that his side came within two points and a lick of paint of winning both the Premier and Champions League. But it was never his side. The players belonged to Mourinho, the club belonged to Mourinho. It was the talent possessed by Terry, Carvalho, Lampard, Drogba et al that pushed Chelsea to the brink of greatness in May of last year, not the managerial nous of Grant.

Scolari tried in vain to make changes and put his stamp on the side. The acquisition of unreliable Deco last summer was the first attempt, his last being the the recent purchase of the patchy Ricardo Quaresma. Off the pitch, there were well-documented problems but more importantly, on the pitch, the side were a mess. The 3-0 defeat at the hands of Manchester United was not just embarassing but humbling. Mourinho's players - Ballack, Mikel, Drogba and Lampard skulked around Old Trafford disinterested and jaded. Scolari's big summer signing Deco was substituted at half-time.

With Hiddink seemingly a short-term solution, the onus falls on the shoulders of Roman Abramovich to decide whether or not he wants a leader once again. Whether or not he wants a team again. Like any empire, Chelsea needs to be dismantled before being rebuilt. But to do that, you need an emperor. Jose Mourinho remains the only one to have ever graced Stamford Bridge.

What not to wear...

And so AIG's financial situation across the water has ensured that yet another sponsor's name will adorn Manchester United's jerseys from 2011. The current sponsorship deal with the insurance 'giants' nets United 14 milion sterling a year and the ceasing of this particular relationship ensures that another fiscal organisation's involvement with a sports franchise comes to a rather abrupt end. AIG have already ended their involvement with the US Davis Cup tennis team.

Look a little deeper though and shirt sponsorship has long provided a 'quick peep' into distinctive social and cultural norms. If we rewind to the early nineties, it was the world of electronics that had global communities simultaneously agog and companies like JVC, Commodore and Sharp snapped up the big deals with then English First Division sides Arsenal, Chelsea and Manchester United respectively. Though these clubs had begun to buy into the advent of overseas sponsors (as had, bizarrely enough, Coventry City through their affiliation with Peugeout), strong and traditional British 'ways of life', mostly beverage-related, found their names on the fronts of jerseys - most famously Carlsberg (Liverpool), McEwans (Blackburn and Glasgow Rangers) and Greenalls (Newcastle - who also pin-pointed Newcastle Brown Ale as a key shirt sponsor in the mid-nineties). It was clear that commercialisation was the last thing on club chairman's minds and the provincial town-isms belied what the Premier League would become - Middlesbrough's deal with the Evening Gazette was terribly endearing though somewhat worrysome and West Ham's partnership with Dagenham Motors was a script-writers dream.

Such innocence though existed in more 'exotic' locations too. On the continent, respective countries tended to adopt the same approach to sponsorship though on a more cosmopolitan level as clubs identifed key national treasures as their perfect partner. In Serie A, these tended to be famous national food companies - think Danone (Juventus), Parmalat (Parma) and Barilla (Roma). Memorably, Fiorentina carried the name of ice-cream makers Sammontana on their shirts during the mid-nineties. In the Bundesliga, the heavy-hitters paid tribute to Germany's powerful industrious heritage - Bayern Munich proudly wore Opel's name across the front of their shirts for well over a decade. When Mattias Sammer lifted the 1997 European Cup as captain of Borussia Dortmund meanwhile, it was the name of local insurance company Die Continentale that jumped out from those bright neon shirts.

But, the days of local or even national companies putting their name to a local side are long gone. As the financial malaise continues to eat away at the beautiful game, clubs have spent the last decade tying down lucrative sponsorship deals with whoever can provide them with the most income. Tradition, history, heritage seem to be buzz-words of a lost generation ago but, in fact, it was a generation ago when the process of meaningless affiliation begun. In the mid-nineties, Paris St. Germain maximised their profits by agreeing for two sponsors to adorn their red and blue torsos as the name of French beer-manufacturer Tourtel sat below that of, firstly, US computer company Commodore and the following season, Spanish car giants SEAT. Any trace of French shirt sponsorship with the club was wiped when OPEL came on board in 1995.

The 'lost years' for shirt sponsorship came with the new millennium with clubs attempting to appeal to Generation X+. Arsenal and Manchester United ended 14 and 16 year old deals with JVC and Sharp respectively and signed instead with SEGA and VODAFONE. In Italy meanwhile, the newly crowned Scudetto champions Lazio joined forces with Siemens after previous deals with Italian food company Cirio and the Bank of Rome. Inter's continued Milanese relationship with tyre magnates Pirelli is merely the exception that proves the rule.

Like Inter though, other clubs have taken great pride in the way they deal with shirt sponsorship, not least Catalan giants Barcelona. In September 2006, the infamously traditionally sponsor-less club agreed a five-year 'collaborative agreement' with UNICEF, the terms of which sees Barca carry the UNICEF logo on their jerseys while annually contributing €1.5 million to the organisation's projects. It had been believed Barcelona were ready to sign an agreement with Austrian online betting company 'BetandWin' (BWin) but the deal fell through when the club felt it would be uncomfortable to be associated with such an entity.

Real Madrid didn't seem to mind however - in February 2007, they signed a 75 million euro contract with BWin and with that, the modern-day ruthlessness of shirt sponsorship had been confirmed - the pure, evangelical, vacant strips of the greatest club in the world tarnished with the ugliness of such a morbid and irrelevant partner. The conduct of both Madrid and Barcelona regarding their respective sponsorship deals is striking and in an age when perhaps the relationship between a jersey and the name that's emblazoned across its front may not seem important anymore, it's refreshing to know that some people still care.

More on Kaka...

To keep with the football finances theme, here's a piece from When Saturday Comes back in 1995. When things appear gloomy, nostalgia, it seems, is the order of the day:

Remember Steve Daley? If you do, then it’s because his transfer from Wolves in 1979 cost Manchester City over £1 million and, arguably, Malcolm Allison his job. His wasn’t the first, or last, seven-figure move of the time, but Daley’s is the name most often recalled to sum up that frenzied period, principally because he was hugely overpriced: a good enough player for what was then the First Division, but never a serious contender for international caps. His name comes to mind because the transfer market is as mad now as it was in 1979. A bargain these days is any player moving between Premier League clubs for less than £2m.

The Collymore case illustrates one of the causes of the grotesque inflation in fees, a new outbreak of a particularly virulent disease that occasionally strikes at football and for which there is no known cure: macho shopping. Everton had barely finished parading the Cup around Wembley than chairman Peter Johnson was excitedly burbling to all and sundry about how much money would be made available to Joe Royle to buy players. The team had had their turn in the spotlight, and now the chairman wanted his. He let it be known that an £8m payout was well within his range and the press were told all about the faxed bid for that amount sent to Forest. A year ago, Everton or Liverpool could have got three or four Premier League players for the eight million they were prepared to spend on just one.

Other clubs not bankrolled by millionaires now feel under pressure to keep up. Alan Sugar, playing up to his self-appointed role as the sceptical outsider astonished by what he continues to discover about the football industry, recently suggested that the latest round of over-spending will widen the gap between the top few clubs and the rest, with championships and cups becoming the exclusive preserve of the elite within the elite. While some of the bigger clubs have made themselves vulnerable, as in 1979, those courting the largest disasters are the underachievers, eternally hoping for better things – more than half the Premier League, in other words. Sir John Hall and others repeatedly talk the language of free market economics in relation to football, and what we’re seeing now should be a familiar sight to economists everywhere – though one about which many of them tend to keep quiet. A passing historian has just told us that in the 17th century the Netherlands was brought to its financial knees by a frenzy of speculation in the value of tulip bulbs; that might be hard to imagine, but after Warren Barton and Stan Collymore’s England debuts, arguably it’s even harder to get your head around the idea that many football clubs are going bananas and risking huge sums of money on a couple of English players. But it’s happening, and the fever has spread to produce an interest in more exotic varieties as well. Worse still, it’s a racing certainty that some of these big transfers will go wrong: there just aren’t enough trophies or places in Europe to enable all this summer’s headline-makers to finish the season with smiles on their faces.

Just as it’s hard to sympathize with the ex-millionaires who threw themselves out of office blocks as a result of the Wall Street Crash, so those managers who get their fingers badly burnt shouldn’t come to us looking for tea and sympathy. But just as those (apocryphal?) American stockbrokers apparently landed on the occasional innocent passerby, so the inhabitants of the lower levels in football have something to fear. The annual turnover from transfers last season was squillions more than, to pick a year at random, 1992, when Blackburn got promoted, but a smaller proportion of it went to the lower divisions than ever before. And this summer has been worse.Several smaller clubs have reaped the benefits of sell-on clauses which entitle them to a share of the fee when a player they have sold moves on again. But if clubs are spending less time seeking out talent at lower levels then there is less and less likelihood of them unearthing players like Warren Barton (who was good value when he joined Wimbledon from Maidstone), Chris Armstrong (originally with Wrexham), or Stan Collymore (a Palace reserve whose career was revived at Southend).

In their panic to buy big, Premier League clubs just aren’t thinking straight. Did Arsenal, for example, really have to pay as much as £7.5m for Dennis Bergkamp? Consider his situation. He had an unhappy time in Italy and wasn’t going to stay. Where else might he go? Many European clubs are a short of cash at the moment or else have a full quota of overseas players, and he’s too young to wind down his career at home in Holland. His price would surely have come down quickly because, though Inter would be keen to recoup the money spent on Ince, they wouldn’t want to be stuck paying the wages of a reserve who didn’t want to be there anyway (a problem that could repeat itself with Ince – and may also be resolved by Arsenal again forking out in a year’s time).It is impossible to predict when the transfer mania will end. As with boom-and-bust cycles in real life, there isn’t an obvious solution, because people always want to believe that this time it will be different, and there’s no persuading them otherwise. So we’re going to sit back, stick pins in dolls of those managers and chairmen we’d most like to see get their comeuppance, and always wear hard hats when we go to grounds with nice, high roofs from which people can jump.

We've come a long way, baby...

Because of lots of different things going on, I've been incredibly lazy in getting around to regular updates over the last month - deepest apologies.

But let's get right back into it.

The 100million pound man:

So, it has come to this. Should any of us be surprised that in 2009, a player is reported to be the subject of a 100% serious 100 million pound bid from a Premier League club.? The answer is no but, that hasn't stopped miscellaneous red-top and broadsheet hyperbole from being in awe of the story.

The hard fact remains that everything is eventual. When Brian Clough signed Trevor Francis for a million pounds from Birmingham City in 1979, people scoffed - 'No player is worth 1 million pounds...ever'. Fast forward thirty years and the English Premier League, maybe even global association football in general, find themselves in a position whereby one million pounds gets you a modern day equivalent of a bag of jerseys.

It is interesting to note that it's only been in the last fifteen years that the logic regarding transfer fees has ceased to be even vaguely mentioned in the same breath as 'business acumen'. Rewind to 1993 and Alan Shearer moved from Southampton to Blackburn for a then British record of 3.3 million quid. Andy Cole smashed that record two years later when he joined Manchester United from Newcastle for 5.5 million plus Keith Gillespie...The reason why the Premier League worked within these financial restrictions was because there were clear financial restrictions in place - if clubs required to splash a couple of million on a player then they had to put two on the transfer list.

The way deals were done in England at this time was still incredibly innocent and naive - but in hindsight, refreshingly so. Sir Alex Ferguson tells the story of how Eric Cantona made the move to Old Trafford from Elland Road. The Scot received a call from Leeds United about the possibility of Dennis Irwin moving to Yorkshire. Ferguson dismissed the proposed move but enquired about Eric Cantona. By the end of the day, Fergie had got his man - no fuss, no red tape, no agent fees, no merchandising clause, no last-minute hijacking from other clubs.

So what has happened regarding the transfer of players? There's now a media circus when a deal is struck between two clubs for the most medial of footballers usually because the fee involved is the season budget for lower league clubs. Over the last five years or so, the money has moved to the Premier League. For decades, the best players in the world were drawn to Serie A, the Budesliga, La Liga but never England. Why move there? Old Blighty, stiff upper lips, crumpets and tea, the Queen - no thanks. These players preferred Ferraris, super-model girlfriends, mansions overlooking a Wonder of the World. Alan Shearer returned to his hometown and signed for Newcastle for 15 million pounds in the summer of 1996 - the deal was the world transfer record...for about two days. (The original) Ronaldo moved to Barcelona from PSV in 1996 for 18 million quid. Suddenly, a deal that Newcastle had been finalising and bank-balancing precariously for twelve months previous was ripped to shreds in the blink of an eye.

The Premier League tried in vain to catch up - clubs attempted to entice glamorous continental players. Instead, clubs got pros coming to the end of their careers - Fabrizio Ravenelli was a super signing for Middlesbrough - scoring a hat-trick on his debut against Liverpool. But it always seemed such an incredibly weird relationship between player and club - League of Gentlemen-esque. Ravanelli didn't exactly warm himself to the supporters or his team-mates by criticising the training regime and the area of Middlesbrough itself. Hutton Rudby was a long way from Turin and it was clear that clubs would need time to get the process right...

With the concentration of power now permanently fixed within the Premier League, it's taken the FA a decade to establish the League as the self-proclaimed 'best in the world' but are we talking quality of football or quality of life for its players? When Manchester City fork out 10 million quid for an out-of-favour full back Wayne Bridge (signed by Chelsea for 7 million when he was first-choice) and when Liverpool splash over 20 million on Robbie Keane, one can only look on in amazement. Even Manchester United were held to ransom by Spurs when they signed Dimi Berbatov - paying, at least, between 5 and 7 million more than they should have.

There appears very little research as to the overall costing of modern day footballers across the Barclays Premier League. Why? Because they don't have to worry about the price. Where does the proposed Kaka fee for 100 million plus originate? How does a club come up with a bid like that? When Zizou Zidane moved to Real Madrid for 46.7 million, the fee appeared bulked up with clauses and various other financial elements. 100 million seems like a figure plucked from thin air and it's incredibly worrying when the richest businessmen in the world conduct such unhealthy and bizarre business practices as fanciful and badly-researched as the proposed Kaka deal.

Half of me wants Kaka to come and play for City. Because when the deal falls flat on its face and the club are relegated, perhaps the lunatics will have eventually left the asylum.