TOSH ‘N’ BECKS

David Beckham is back in the England squad because his form is good enough, having been dropped because it wasn’t. Meanwhile, buried under so much newsprint that it’s nearly turned to coal, is news that Aaron Lennon is out of the same squad because he was in the ‘B’ team and got injured. Only one of these is a big deal. And it’s not David Beckham…

As with Beckham, so with England. Deification then vilification. Hyperbole then pillory. And shades of grey that permeate both barely get a look-in.

Ever since failure to qualify for the 1974 World Cup, England have apparently been rubbish. And now that England really ARE rubbish, a lot of critics have been caught out.

Take England’s 1973 failure to Poland. Not Alan Ball’s sending-off in Katowice, recently on telly for the saddest of reasons. Nor the ghastly luminous yellow shirts which should have seen points docked even if they’d won any. But Wembley, where they’d have qualified with a win.

Poland goalie Jan Tomaszewski may have been a ‘clown’ (thanks Brian Clough). But he made save-on-save against a dominant England side. And England were good – watch a re-run if you don’t believe me.

Poland deservedly finished third in 1974. Czechoslovakia narrowly knocked England out of the 1976 European Championships and won the thing. Italy edged England out of Argentina ’78, were an Arie Haan 35-yarder away from the final and were the only team to beat Argentina in the competition.

If anything, qualification for Spain ’82 was less impressive. Not only Norway’s ‘hell of a beating’ but also a 2-1 reverse in Switzerland, covered by an avalanche of Bjorn Lillelien’s commentary re-runs, to the relief of all concerned.

But it was back to narrow failure against one of the best, Denmark, in Euro ’84 qualifying, Allan Simonsen, Michael Laudrup et al. That apart, Bobby Robson’s qualifying record must make Steve McLaren weep. Even if finals’ performances were less convincing. Even 1990, so nearly glorious, largely stank until THAT semi-final.

Graham Taylor…no. Move on.

Venables’ competitive reign may never have ventured outside the London borough of Brent. But nor did Ramsey’s in 1966. And if Venables had had the benefit of an optically-challenged Azerbaijani at the crucial moment…

Hoddle was a weirdo. But if Shearer’s goal against Argentina had stood, it was only Holland next. Then Brazil, er, what point was I making?

Kevin Keegan (see Graham Taylor).

Sven had another qualifying record to die for. And in 2002 and 2004, England actually played quite well. And the bad luck stories (Campbell’s ‘goal’, Rooney’s injury, Seaman’s senility) bear repeating. They happened. Contrast with what’s happened since. Which is where we came in.

Beckham’s England career requires similar re-evaluation and application of grey paint. Early on, people complained that he never scored. Then when he got a belter against Colombia in France ’98 people complained about his celebrations. He couldn’t win.

So much so that debate about his sending-off against Argentina was cast aside. Batitusta winked when Beckham departed, Beckham got booed. In 2006, Ronaldo winked when Rooney departed, Ronaldo got booed. And few pointed out that Beckham’s offence was barely worth a yellow, until his ‘victim’ Diego Someone did so from the safety of four years later. ‘A temporary return to the playground in Walthamstow’ someone wrote. Not like stamping on someone’s ‘groin’ in a delicately-poised quarter-final.

That he dealt with the subsequent vitriol and continued to star in an indifferent England side (with European and World Player of the Year runner-up spots thrown in) was a major achievement. Yet largely forgotten as the admittedly decadent and disdainful Beckham PR machine began to pervade.

And the fact that he’s the best crosser of a football and striker of a free-kick this country has ever produced has been reduced to a footnote by embittered old hacks who deem him unfit to lace Bobby Moore’s drinks or Bobby Charlton’s comb-over.

Embittered old hack and Beckham enemy number one is the Independent’s James Lawton. Though rightly disdainful of Beckham’s PR, Lawton effectively falls foul of it. Charlton was never this lauded, he complains. But Charlton never had Beckham’s looks, frankly (nor his poxy ‘celebrity’ wife). Or, by the way, the accuracy of his shooting.

We’ve all seen Charlton’s long-range spectaculars. But those who saw him play like to remind you of the many more shots firmly blasted in the direction of Swinton. Beckham didn’t threaten any Mancunian suburbia in his United days.

Lawton’s logic runs thus: “When looking for moments of supreme accomplishment by Moore and Charlton you don’t have to go back to some home qualifying game against Greece, you go to the ultimate World Cup campaign against Argentina, Portugal and West Germany.”

But ‘qualifying wasn’t a Moore or Charlton forte. Compare Beckham’s five out of five record with Moore’s one out of three (or, as an aside, Beckham’s one European Player of the Year runner-up spot with Moore’s, um, one). Charlton’s ‘ultimate World Cup campaign’ was one great game, one shocker (part of an England team which committed more fouls than the supposed Argentinian ‘animals’) and marked out of the Final. Beckham’s ‘some home qualifying game against Greece’ was certainly ‘some’ display. Awesome, actually.

Moore and Charlton were better international footballers. But they weren’t just better than Beckham. Placing Beckham at the opposite end of the spectrum is nonsense. If Beckham passes 100 caps, it says more about the volume of modern international football than about his abilities relative to Moore and Charlton. Nobody claims that 108 caps will turn Beckham into Moore. Ray Wilkins won 84 caps, remember? And Moore cost us the afore-mentioned game in Katowice, remember?

So, a good international footballer has got picked for the England squad, based on his form, ten months after being dropped from the England squad, based on his form. I don’t know why anyone would write more than a paragraph on such a humdrum, common event, let alone a thousand words.

You certainly wouldn’t catch me doing it.

‘MotorMmurph’ is written by Mark Murphy

Entry Filed under: MotorMurph Column

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