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.

Not your average sequel

Sequels are notoriously naff, so one can be forgiven for fearing the worst when news of Rocky 27 was released last year.

Sly may be a legend of the silver screen, but a 60 year-old boxer should be producing lean mean grilling machines rather than being roasted in the ring.

Fortunately, Rocky is no ordinary boxer, and with a level of humour that borders on parody Sly has pulled it off. Hollywood is not famed for laughing at itself but in these situations it would be suicide not to.

Suspension of disbelief is one thing. A geriatric world champion going toe to toe with a fighter in his prime is quite another.

That latest Rocky will be a resounding success; but don’t hold your breath for others to follow in Sly’s footsteps. Every which way you cant really anymore, staring Clint Eastwood may not be quite so gripping.

The wrong red, white and blue

So, Brand Beckham is off to Hollywood to rub shoulders with the stars. Becks and Tiger Woods can stage money fights while posh can try to avoid being popped into Tiger’s golf bag - she does look a bit like a golf club, I feel.

But, joking apart, what a shame that Becks will not be coming home. I can’t help but think that he would have been back to his inspirational best and delighting fans at say White Heart Lane or Anfield if a British club had made a serious bid.

Becks still has a lot to offer the game – that’s football not soccer – and would still thrive in the Premiership. His passing, tackling and will to win would make him the first on many a Premiership team sheet.

But, going to America helped George Best escape the British press. I can’t help but think the paparazzi had something to do with Becks’ reluctance to come home. Shame on them.

Tabloids: the real Ashes flops

The England cricket team – the second best Test team in the world - are all “Ashes Flops” in the wonderful world of the red tops.

International sport is a do-or-die world, for sure, but may I add to the debate: form is temporary, class is permanent.

The red top columnists should show some respect. England has only lost two of its last 12 Test series, and trounced Pakistan to nil in England in the last outing before the Ashes.

Red top hacks should be grateful that the team are still giving them interviews.

These people know nothing about cricket, so I will put it in language that they understand: playing once in a 15 over ‘slap’ after work on a Tuesday night does not make you an expert.

Time to bin the Worthless Cup

As the Arsenal Under-12s tore through the Liverpool ladies defence at Anfield on Tuesday night, commentators could not resist a dig at Liverpool’s selection policy.

“This is a quarter final of a domestic cup,” you heard them say. “This is a massive win for Arsenal and a significant blow to Liverpool’s season. What was Rafa playing at in his team selection?”

Oh, really?

The League Cup, the Milk Cup, the Coca Cola Cup – or the Worthless Cup as it was known under the sponsorship of a less than satisfactory pint maker – is no big deal. In an era of too many games, where the Champion’s League is numero uno and the FA Cup priority number three, the League Cup truly is Worthless.

There is more shame in celebrating as your team skipper lifts the trophy than in a quarter final exit to a bunch of kids.

“Its still silverware,” the commentators claim. Yes, but so is a table decoration, and you wouldn’t want an open top bus ride every time you set the table for dinner with your posh aunt would you?

Professional players are forced to play too many games. The League Cup has become the reserve team cup – only with Premiership ticket prices.

The time has come to bin this second, no third, rate competition, and let football keep its dignity – and fans their money.

Blair’s philosophy: ‘of the ego for the ego’

Tony Blair’s legacy has long been debated by those more politically aware than myself, however, I would like to put forward the following offering.

How about: Tony Blair: an idiot’s guide to hubris.

My logic is tough to question. He marched into Iraq arm-in-arm with George Bush, he has lorded above us mere mortals by living a rock and roll lifestyle of private jets and villa freebies like a political George Michael; and now he is so far out of the natural order that he believes that saving the environment is for blue collar minions.

I refer of course to Mr Bigshots assertion that offsetting his jet-set carbon emissions is not his responsibility. He has said it is the job of technology, of designers, and he is far too important to worry about something as menial as planting a few trees.

What scares me is that there is a portion of the population, although less than in 1997, who believe he is the man for the job – and that group includes some commentators.

Here is a sound bite for you our esteemed leader. Government is supposed to be of the people for the people; not ‘of the ego for the ego’.

Make mine a McDaily, but hold the cheesy celebrity relish

Newspapers have long been considered tomorrow’s fish and chip wrappings. But now not even the take-aways will touch them. Newsprint leaves a nasty residue on you chips and a worse taste in the mouth it would seem.

Newspapers have been on the slide for some time, but the naff freebies on the cover which enshrines pages of guff, and worse, supplementary guff on a Sunday, are not the radical solution many editors believe.

How can a free CD and a host of complimentary municipal waste save a sector that the public are increasingly apathetic towards? Newspapers are yesterday’s news and can’t compete with the speed and detail of the internet and broadcast.

Broadcasters are lucky. They repeat the same story all day, illustrated by different opinions - however annoying that may be – and the audience's only escape is to listen to Chris Moyles, a less than satisfactory alternative. Newspapers simply refurbish the broadcast material the next day, or worse still, write about ex-Big Brother losers who cant get a job.

Celebrities are as tacky as free CDs and less interesting. Lend them a brain cell for an interview or wait for them to get lashed, it's east copy.

News is what made papers great. Digging around and reporting on issues that intelligent, yes intelligent, people want to read. Reporting spin, or worse, manipulating spin to fit their own agenda is not a good business plan. No cover mount can hide how transparent newspapers have become.

Why are magazines a preferred option these days? Because they respect their audience and don’t try and fob them off with low quality, rushed copy. Its not rocket science.

Newspapers are the publishing equivalent of fast food: Hastily prepared, bad for the digestion and instantly forgettable.

RIP White Van Man

White van man is in danger of falling from his perch as a socially acceptable and respectable figure.

Once they were a symbol of enterprise and progress, now they are driving in the same direction with the hand break firmly applied.

At least, this is the evidence of this morning.

In their hey day of the 1990s would you have ever seen a white van man driving at a top speed of 35mph in a 50 and slowing to a 20mph stroll when they struck a 30 limit? No. But today, two of them were at it.

And to add to their shame they both created a que of traffic that included school-run yummy-mummy, and a taxi driver, with a full tank of fuel. Very strange. There are dark forces at work on the roads of Britain.

Fortunately, traffic reports that pedestrians were lining up in the slip stream for a bold overtaking move proved unfounded.

There is a serious point to be made here though. Some people, the sons and daughters of the nanny state, simply lack the ability to drive. It was inevitable that this disease would spread to the white van brotherhood eventually.

However, as I contemplated lobbying the government to introduce minimum speed limits and impose strict fines on those who failed to ‘get the f*”k on with it’ not one but two old-school white van men took it in turns to use me for target practice.

Slowdriveitus, it seems has yet to spread throughout the species. But the writing is on the wall.

The new green cross code

A new sat nav system that finds the greenest route to a destination has been tested in Sweeden, according to New Scientist.

In early tests the device achieved fuel savings of around 8% compared with the normal journey, by taking account of the speed limit and the typical traffic flow amongst other variables.

With few people ever likely to invest in alternative fuel, the project pioneers at the Lund Institute of Technology should be commended for their efforts.

But I’m still waiting for the next generation of sat nav. The dashboard gadget that can tell you which route to take to avoid road rage.

Chilling news for scientists

A new year brings new beginnings and fresh impetus. Unfortunately it also brings back the same old crap.

With a chill still biting in the morning air, environmentalists have come out with another gem. “2007 will be the warmest year on record”, they claim, due to the El Nino effect.

Change the record, I say. What next. Will this Tuesday be the warmest Tuesday since people cared how hot Tuesdays are? It’s just crazy.

If Michael Fish, legend that he is, or Suzanne Charlton, daughter of a World Cup hero, can’t figure out if it’s going to rain this week, how on earth do they know what the rest of the year is going to be like?

It’s popularist babble by the media and the attention-hungry professors who don’t get enough attention in the parochial world of the science lab.

We know the climate is changing. We don’t need more speculation. Here is a news story for you: climate is dynamic. It does change and there are natural feedbacks that check its progress and bring it round in cycles. You can’t fight nature because nature finds its own levels and its own way.

Man has always affected the world he inhabits. Who is to say that working to counter climate change will not do more harm than good?

Other human attempts to engineer and ambient environment have learned that lesson the hard way.