The heat of battle

Nothing beats a good regional scrap and as Arsenal got to grips with Chelsea on Sunday I got to thinking.

Why not revive the Worthless Cup with a regional league stage, followed by a national playoff for the semi-finals and final?

It would serve the fans well as they would no longer be fleeced with high travel and ticket prices for meaningless Tuesday night ‘reserve’ games. Instead they could go to war in local grudge matches that would stir the passion and recapture the essence of British cup football. Then the finest of the regions would fight for the trophy.

Brilliant.

Long live the FA Cup dream

Arsene Wenger’s crusade to kill off English football continues.

Not content with stifling the development of domestic talent with his French First selection policy, he is now determined to kill of an English institution – the FA Cup.

Scrapping replays would be certain death for the old tin idle. A battling away draw followed by a replay back on your own patch is what keeps many of the little clubs going. It breeds excitement, generates cash and bonds communities around the smaller clubs.

Is English football not elitist enough? The big four already dominate the Cup and have owned it for the past 10 years.

The cup needs a lift, but killing people’s dreams is not the way to achieve it. Give the winners a spot in the Champion’s League and the Premiership and the Cup would both prosper.

And as for Glen ‘we’re a big club really’ Roder popping up from under his stone. Well Mr Roder, go and polish the Intertoto Cup and be pleased the media bothered to print your menial little opinion.

Deadline D-Day

West Ham has failed in an audacious £15m deadline day bid for Manchester United’s Old Trafford sprinkler system.

The snub is another blow to the Hammers desperate bid to avoid relegation, come what May.

An Old Trafford source was heard to say that the bid was an insult as the irrigation system had made more of an impact on a premiership pitch than Ashley Young.

“If Ashley is worth £10 million, them I’m worth at least double that. Some would be flattered by the attention, but I’m a sophisticated piece of equipment with Premiership pedigree. Can Ashley Young, or that over-priced Darren Bent, say the same thing?” the sprinkler said.

The move draws into focus the desperate measures that Premiership sides are forced into under the current transfer window system.

A rumour that Wigan made a late £5m bid for a Polish plumber to fix its less than water-tight defence has yet to be confirmed.

1-0 to the Golden Oldies

Last night I stumbled across Gary Lineker’s Striker Handbook, and couldn’t help but indulge in a little nostalgia.

Flicking through, names such as Ian Rush, Ian Wright, Alan Smith (of Arsenal, not Man U) and Peter Beardsley jumped out of the shockingly large print. OK, it was a kid’s book.

Add to the cocktail the likes of Ally McCoist and the “great Mo Johnston” and you have a rather potent front line of British striking talent.

Today’s top boys, Wayne Rooney aside, make a rather pathetic comparison.

The names of Crouch, Heskey, Defoe and Wallcott don’t quite roll off the tongue in the same way. Nor, critically, do they have the same class. Owen and Rooney aside, England’s golden generation are lacking in fire power.

Foreign imports, fast cars and faster women may have played their part in this decline, but who knows where the next generation of British striking talent is coming from? Maybe France, or Africa, if the Premiership is anything to go by.

And while the three great, yes great, English strikers of modern times hang out in the Match of the Day studio (Shearer), the Newcastle treatment room (Owen) and the Liverpool Carling Cup squad (Robbie “God” Fowler), we will only sit and watch as we go out on penalties again.

The golden oldies win, hands down.

It’s not Great being British

If being the same species as Jade Goodie was not humiliation enough, looters – or should I say losers – on the Devon coast seem intent on showing Britain as a nation of cons.

Despite a series of warnings, people are plundering through containers of private property and heading for the hills with whatever they fancy.

Images of these idiots (who probably should be at work) are being beamed around the world, and making us look like an island of lower-class thieves.

But, as if that wasn’t enough, those of us who should know better as sitting back and supporting them. “Oh, aren’t they cheeky,” journalists and viewers alike seem to be saying, as Wayne from Exeter runs off to dry out his new motorbike.

Do my eyes deceive me or have we really sunk to such a low level of morality and poor judgement?

Was being branded a nation of inarticulate bigots not enough?

Fat Yanks bite back

Fatties the world over have been cowering in the shadows to avoid being collected by the nanny state, or worse, by reality TV.

Now they can walk free, head raised, as obesity could in fact be keeping them alive.

If you see a curvy chap sweating his heart out in the gym, then take him for an ice cream. His lardyness is keeping him alive, or so say scientists in the US.

They report that although, regretfully, being obese is bad for your health, once you are fat you are better off staying that way.

Food fight anyone?

Has Fletcher sold his box?

Duncan Fletcher has moved to quash rumours that he was selling his cricket box following the tour of Australia.

It had been suggested in pubs and clubs throughout the land that the England coach would seek to cash in on his box, wait for it, because he hadn’t showed any signs that he had any bollocks of late.

This may sound harsh, and I appreciate what Fletcher has done for English cricket, but bringing back Flintoff as Captain is just the latest desperate example of his inability to take risks.

Freddie has just started playing well, so to shoulder the burden of leading England again is crazy.

The country needs a free and firing Flintoff to stand any chance on the field. Captaincy is restrictive, and frankly Freddie is as unimaginative in the field as he was in his autobiography.

Andrew Straus is England skipper elect, although Michael Vaughan remains the most natural and capable leader.

Fletcher should show some balls, give Straus a go, and stop making the same mistakes over and over again.

Save our O’Suls

Snooker reporters are up in arms at the governing body’s decision to waiver Ronnie O’Sullivan’s media duties.

Radio Five claimed that “O’Sullivan would now rightly be condemned” and that the “authorities were indulging him”.

I am not sure I have ever heard such an intoxicating cocktail of hubris and arrogance, even from the media.

A minor reality check. O’Sullivan is a living legend who is getting over the death of a close friend – Paul Hunter.

Furthermore, it is more important for all concerned that O’Sullivan is playing in the tournament, and it is testament to his character and ability that he is. He is a person first, sportsman second and media fodder third – if at all.

The snooker authority’s hierarchy of responsibility follows this. Players first, audience second (and it to the audiences benefit that O’Sullivan is playing); the media are not even in the picture.

But, then again, when did the media last take a logical look at situation. They see themselves as number one and ethics as a home county.