Last Saturday this column hit the national airwaves as a Radio Five Live programme called 'Live at The Ashes' nominated me as 'villain of the week' for daring to criticise Andrew Flintoff.

Now I wouldn't wish to point anyone in the direction of the programme because it is awful. I didn't realise until googling it after my 15 seconds of fame that it was supposed to be a comedy show.

I also wouldn't wish to guide anyone to Five Live's Ashes coverage at all.

I had the misfortune to be driving home as the first Test at Cardiff was reaching its dramatic conclusion, but this particular station's broadcast of an incredibly tense situation was continually interrupted by an incredibly irritating bloke shouting out what listeners were texting.

"I daren't go to the toilet it's so exciting," was one of the more interesting texts.

Anyway thanks for the publicity whoever you are and thanks for encouraging people to write to me to complain.

And the number persuaded by your request? O. Yes that's right, a big fat zero. Most likely the vast majority of people listening at 11am had switched off by 11.15.



ANYWAY I still find the hero worship of Flintoff galling. After Lord's he now has a grand total of three five-wicket hauls in a single innings in Test matches and four in first-class cricket in total – Glenn McGrath he ain't.

Notwithstanding the fact that if the umpires had been halfway competent he wouldn't have been awarded his first two wickets at Lord's, I stand by my view that he is the most over-rated all-rounder in English Test history.

He's also a selfish, greedy one. He insisted on participating in the Indian Premier League (for the experience of Twenty/20 cricket rather than the cash of course) thus putting his frail body through unnecessary physical demands ahead of some important matches for his country.

He then paraded injured upon the England balcony during Test matches against the West Indies flaunting his sponsored clothing before missing the team bus ahead of a memorial in honour of war dead because he was hung over.

In short he's not the sort of role model I'd want my kids to follow. Decent cricketer, world-class boozer, but some way short of a hero.



ENGLAND and Liverpool FC are lucky to have Steven Gerrard.

As a jury of Scousers took no time at all to confirm, the filthy rich midfielder managed to keep his head while everyone else in a seedy Southport bar were losing theirs.

Five of Gerrard's mates pleaded guilty to various charges surrounding their attack on one man, but the celebrity in their midst only threw three uppercuts in self-defence, presumably just in case that one man got the better of five opponents.

Good old Steve. I'm sure those same gurning, grinning, gruesome supporters that stood outside the courthouse and cheered their hero are geniune in their belief that Gerrard deserved the innocent verdict following a rumpus over the serious issue of some dodgy music.

And I'm sure those pathetic apologists within Liverpool Football Club who praised the way Gerrard handled himself while this was hanging over his head are right now ensuring that the latest footballer to prove that he is incapable of handling his drink stays off the beer and out of night-clubs.



MOST frightening sight of the last sporting week was that of Seve Ballesteros suggesting that he might play in the Open at St Andrews next summer.

Sadly Seve's genius on the golf course had disappeared long before his recent illness. He would just be a sad sideshow if he did manage to take part.

There is little more dispiriting than superstar sportsmen who go on far too long and end up as embarrassments.

Indeed I still shudder at the memory of seeing Liverpool striking legend Ian Rush playing for Wrexham against Posh – he was so poor Mick Bodley managed to mark him out of the game.



OF course like Manchester City's mercenaries Adebayor, Barry and Tevez, and any other profesional footballer this summer, Sven Goran Eriksson has made his latest move for a challenge and not because of money.

Indeed even before Notts County became a financial League Two superpower, I'm sure Eriksson was sitting by the phone hoping someone from the County Ground would call.

It might be a challenge now as County's director of football, but it would have been a far greater one without a Darragh-MacAnthony level of backing.

Lying with a straight face is a skill shared by politicians and sportsmen alike.