So another season comes to pass. As a Tottenham fan, I suppose you could say I was mildly delighted with the season. It was a season that promised so much frustration and disappointment, and yet, typically for Tottenham, they decided to start playing exciting, and more importantly, competitive football, beating Liverpool, Chelsea and Arsenal in the process. There were disappointments along the way, none bigger than the FA Cup semi final defeat by Portsmouth of all people, but that is the life of a Spurs fan....perhaps without one you don't get the other. We now look forward to the World Cup. I know this, because of the obsessional branding campaign that has overtaken our lives in recent weeks. Have you not noticed? EVERYTHING has been branded with the George Cross or the Rooney squint. It is as if it happened over night, but no....I spotted it weeks ago. Yesterday, I noticed that you can now buy official England World Cup baby wipes. I'm sure baby will be even more satisfied that any stray faecal matter is removed by a series of three lions. The Flags are another matter...slowly they are infiltrating the cars of every person in the country...at the moment they look shiny new and white, it almost makes me feel patriotic, but I know, that like previous campaigns, the flags will become threadbare, will lose their sheen, and eventually end up lying in a gutter, patriotic roadkill, probably as a result of a Kaka run, or a hotly disputed refereeing decision. We have a very good squad this year of course, and we are in with a real chance of winning, but forgive the cynicism....are we not speaking like this every four years (Two if you include the European Championships)? I would like to see a new approach..."We are a bit shit, but we are going to give it a really good go". We have some good players, we have some awful people, and we can expect at least one nasty injury to Rooney over the next few weeks to put the icing on the cake. I expect more revelations about John Terry and his private life..There appears to be little left to find out about this objectionable;e man, but I never underestimate the powers of the vehement tabloid journalist. We have a stern looking foreign manager whom we can apportion blame at a later date in order to protect our little lovelies in their new corporate shirts. Many young boys will already be tugging at Mum and Dad's arms pointing expectantly at the £40 shirts that have a slightly different logo/trim than the last one...Kids from poorer families will have to resort to, god forbid, last years shirt...or even worse, a Tesco T shirt with a logo on it..the ultimate humiliation, the equivalent of having Ann Widdecombe as a WAG. Over the next three weeks we will be bombarded with advertising that features many of the England Squad, and there will always be that little hint of embarrassment when a company pays a fringe player to don an England shirt to advertise their tawdry little product only to find out that he hasn't made the final squad. Rooney will be everywhere...if there is a gap, you will see his squashed little head being thrust into it. He is the chav Beckham, the King of the great unwashed, A man to whom Culture has never paid even a fleeting visit, and yet, I , along with the vast majority of the country will be screaming and shouting in support of him. I will be kicking every ball with him, heading in every cross, and tipping the ball over the bar, where previous England Keepers have just watched. Much as I will try to avoid the fever of the World Cup, I will inevitably be drawn in, and will become an expert pundit on the pros and cons of the Serbian Diamond formation. When England gallantly fail to be any good at around the quarter final stage, I will of course lose interest, and rue the loss of the old days. Being born in 1966, I have a special right to be pompous about the old times...I was a world cup baby, though I can say without fear of contradiction, that my arse was never wiped with an official England baby wipe.
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