Pearce. And Quiet

"How the hell did they find out about 'Bevington's Bollock Cabinet'?"

At the moment, the English national football team has no manager, no (full-time) captain and no Wayne Rooney. And the FA, thus far – perhaps wary of capacity issues in the ‘Bevington Bollock Cabinet’, the cupboard in Adrian Bevington’s office where all the previously dropped bollocks have been stored since sweeping them under the carpet got impractical and not a little messy – has offered no resolution.

Without the governing body to harangue, attention has turned largely to dismissing Stuart Pearce’s tenure as England manager as temporary, like some kind of Fabio Capello residue that needs a quick power-hosing off after this prearranged commitment at Wembley. Inevitable though it seems that he will be stripped of the job, the wilful carte blanche being applied to England’s performance at Euro 2012 could endanger Capello’s permanent successor as much as the perceived lack of pressure (relatively, of course) could benefit the squad’s performance.

Fair Play At A Price

Since time immemorial, Uefa’s financial fair play rules have been skulking around in the shadows of polite chat in football circles. It was Arsenal’s Herbert Chapman who first busied himself snaffling the brightest and best from across the country – Alex James, Cliff Bastin, Eddie Hapgood, Herbie Roberts and David Jack – in the late 1920s in a bid to thwart Michel Platini jr jr jr and the other suits at Europe’s governing body as he pre-empted said regulations*. From Chapman to latter day incarnations, managers have always attempted to prize as much filthy lucre from their chairman’s cold hands as possible. And after a quiet January transfer window for once, following the batshit mentalness of last year, bracing oneself for an equally capricious summer of transfer activity would be a sound idea.

Great (And Ridiculous) Expectations

Watching the final of the African Cup of Nations*, one thing struck me above all else. It was the patent dichotomy in attitudes between the two sides lining up. In one corner you had the Zambians – all singing, all dancing, carefree, riding the crest of Herve Renard’s incessant wave of “Mayukaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!” from the touchline. In the other corner stood the Ivory Coast – introverted; nervy, despite the all-star squad and crippled by the overwhelming fear of failure. We all love a good football story and there are, by and large, a distinct lack of such narratives. Which is a good thing because it makes the really good ones all the more wonderful. Apologies to fans of the Ivory Coast, but I was supporting Zambia, of course. Most were. Singing as you walk up to take a penalty in the FINAL? The immaculately coiffured manager carrying the injured Joseph Musonda to join in his side’s celebrations? Keeper Mweene’s ridiculously cheeky spot kick? Brilliant. Heartwarming. Brilliant.

Pod Almighty

The pod returns on Transfer Deadline Day - will Bushby stay at Magic Spongers despite various indiscretions? Will Rob be sent out on loan to gain some much-needed experience? Will Jonny get 'Wilman's Big Headers' - HIS OWN FEATURE - right this week?

Just click the cheeky Caravaggio below to find out.