Swann Finds A Bunny In Smith

In his seven Tests to date, Graeme Swann has pulled a rabbit out of the hat for his country on more than one occasion. In this back-to-back series with the West Indies, the world's leading wicket taker in Tests this year has certainly found himself a bunny in Devon Smith.

Swann has dismissed the left-handed opener five times in three Tests, and in every way imaginable. Smith's nightmares must centre round the grinning face of England's new spinner.

Taking a batsman's wicket creates a mental post-it note which clings to the consciousness of batsman and bowler. Over the course of following innings and matches it's nagging presence can either have little consequence or, in rare cases, escalate out of all control - becoming a full-blow horror novel. This is what Smith has experienced, with Swann seemingly being able to get him out at will - an unwelcome hangover from the Tests the Caribbean series.

The great thing about having a bunny, from the bowler's point of view, is that it entirely warps perspective. A batsman usually adept at countering spin can be sent into a flutter by a slow bowler who has his number. An experienced old pro can suffer fatal lapses of concentration every time the rookie bowler gets chucked the ball by his captain. And a man in imperious form can contract the jitters as soon as his nemesis begins a spell. 

Conventional wisdom does not come into it. The fact is that any other right-arm offbreak bowler in an England shirt would not cause Smith so much strife. Bring Swann's head into the picture and alarm bells begin to ring. It's not the bowling Smith can't play, it's the bowler.

If Smith can draw any comfort from the situation, it is that he finds himself in good company. So too does Swann. 

It could be argued that Glenn McGrath got the better of every batsman he came up against, but a couple in particular stand out. 

Former England captain Mike Atherton is often cited as McGrath's bunny, and with good reason - the deadly Australian dismissed him 19 times. It is often overlooked that he also claimed the prize wicket of Brian Lara 15 times, although his average of 41.40 runs per dismissal is vastly superior to Atherton's 9.89.

Of course, McGrath was an outstanding bowler, but Atherton came up against a plethora of those, and his reasonable Test average in the high thirties is testament to the fact that no other troubled him to the same extent.

McGrath's colleague, Shane Warne, was a similarly terrifying prospect for the batting fraternity, with no one suffering at his fingertips more than Daryll Cullinan. 

Warne dismissed the South African 12 times - not his record in international cricket - but the nature of Cullinan's travails make him the poster boy for all Warne's victims. The spin king's hold over Cullinan was such that he is now chiefly remembered as Shane Warne's bunny, despite being a mainstay of the South African team of the nineties, and the fact that he did, unlike many bunnies, eventually manage to improve on his hapless record - as he put it, by then "the story had been told".

Having a bunny affords the bowler an certain arrogance. Warne summed up his dominance by saying, "I was asked who I would like to bowl to for a living. I said I would be a very rich man if I was to bowl to [Cullinan]." Clearly he knew the truth in his words, the problem was that so too did Cullinan.

It is a phenomenon of the game and one of the many elements that make the bowler-batsman battle so intriguingly complex. Graeme Swann may be no Shane Warne, but right now Devon Smith would prefer to be facing the latter. 

    

Swann and Bopara Offer Hope

Temperament is a key element of elite sport. So often the difference between a good player and a great player or a team's success or failure, a good temperament in the heat of battle is a vital thing. In recent decades it has enabled Australia to produce both winning players and winning teams. Many an Ashes contest has been decided before it even began, the fragile and vulnerable mental state of the English failing to prove a match for the superior confidence and mind-set of the old enemy.

Ravi Bopara and Graeme Swann possess un-English temperaments, which bodes well at the start of an Ashes summer. How refreshing it is to see the marriage of ability with supreme confidence and an ultra-relaxed demeanor. We've never struggled to produce the ability in this country, but the latter has proved more illusive. Take the cases of Graeme Hick and Mark Ramprakash. They should have shared 40 Test centuries between them, and perhaps with Bopara's carefree approach to batting they would have. We can only hope Ian Bell takes a leaf out of the Essex man's book before he joins that unenviable list. 

Stories keep emerging about Bopara. Whether he's offering Pietersen earnest advice about how to fend off the type of delivery that accounted for him in his first innings golden duck, or having no clue what his interviewer meant by the term 'FEC', they reveal a refreshing and uncomplicated character. And it's a character which may just enable him to reveal his talent as often as befits an Ashes number 3 batsman; the nature of the opposition, one feels, won't overly bother Bopara.

The same can be assumed of Graeme Swann. Early in his career, Swann was viewed as an arrogant character - presumably because he had the audacity not to be consumed by self-doubt. He's had to wait longer than he deserved for a decent run in the side, and, as his no-nonsense hitting and beautifully flighted deliveries showed, he won't be wasting any time from here on.

Swann, the highest wicket taker in Test cricket this year, will play a crucial role in the Ashes. The Australians have had a handy knack of making the best bowlers look ordinary, but Swann will ensure they know they're in a battle from the off, and unlike others before him, he'll make sure it's settled on the pitch, and not before entering it. 

Bopara and Swann possess enviable temperaments, which in both cases will more than make up for a relative lack of international caps when they take to the pitch in Cardiff. They will be fearless and look to take the opposition on. If their teammates follow suit then England can regain the Ashes.

Barcelona Unsettled by Hiddink

The Spanish backlash which greeted Chelsea's Champions League semi-final first leg stalemate at Barcelona, was quite predictable and quite misguided. Different variants of the 'Chelsea's tactics are killing football' theme were banded about; it's fair to say that Catalonia was not overly enamored with the way in which they set about achieving 0-0 parity. 

Brilliant as Guardiola's team are to watch, they have adopted a rather arrogant view that aesthetically pleasing attacking football is more worthy than good quality defensive play. Few would argue that Barca's brand of total football is more easy on the eye, but the points system in football doesn't work like that of an Olympic diving contest. It's all about the result, and Chelsea deserve praise for securing a decent one. Far from do anything wrong, they did a lot right.

Believe it or not, defending is as much an art-form as attacking. John Terry is as impressive an exponent of his role as Thierry Henry is of his. The comments emanating from the Catalan camp seem almost to be accusing Chelsea of some form of cheating. "It's difficult to play against a team which doesn't want to play football," lamented Guardiola after the first leg. No Pep, they just didn't want to play your brand of football.

And what a good decision that turned out to be. Were Chelsea really meant to adopt a high defensive line and cavalier attitude towards protecting Petr Cech's goal, just like Real Madrid did on Saturday? Then they too would have found themselves four goals down by the end of the night. Important as it is to show the locals respect in a foreign country, that would be taking it a couple of notches too far. 

Barca's 6-2 mauling at the Bernabeu further underlined just how good a result 0-0 at the Nou Camp is. It also highlighted a tactical deficiency in the Spanish side's make-up; the lack of a Plan B. Admittedly, Plan A is very effective and has brushed aside all-comers in La Liga this season. However, upon encountering the Chelsea brick wall, Barca's only answer was to try and neatly pass their way through it. Unable to get their own way, they reverted to spoilt child mode and harmless jibes.

If Barcelona only know one way to play, then Chelsea, and in particular Guus Hiddink, know a number more. The plans the Dutchman has masterminded for his different teams over the years extend from Plan A right down the alphabet, and doubtless tonight's game will see Chelsea try something a bit different.  

It's fair to assume Barcelona wont, which should make for a fascinating tie. At this stage in the competition, there is much to be said for having tactical nous on your side.

KP Echoes AB

Kevin Pietersen's striking honesty in last week's infamous newspaper interview is neither an entirely novel concept, nor necessarily a damaging one.

England are in the midst of a turbulent tour of the Carribean. Clearly Strauss's men should not be suggesting otherwise in dealings with the press, but nor, arguably, should they be trotting out the usual media-training favourites; we've got a long way to go, one step at a time, and the captain's personal favourite, we'll take the positives. Such phrases turn a press conference or interview into a banal and largely pointless affair.

Andrew Strauss always says the 'right' thing, and in truth any other approach would cause far too many problems given his position as captain. As such, nothing Strauss says through the media is likely to stir up anything other than a passive response from his team-mates. Conversely, Pietersen's exchanges with reporters are likely to be absorbed with as much interest by his colleagues as they are by the general public.

The harsh reality is that in just 3 months time England face a ressurgant and dangerous Australia side, and despite playing some good cricket in the Carribean, the performance level will need to undergo considerable improvement in order to recreate the euphoria of 2005. The fact is that Pietersen is "at the end of his tether" following three "soul destroying" months of defeats, and rightly, he wasn't going to hide it.

That Pietersen appears to treat every interview like a trip to his shrink is admittedly inadvisable, but perhaps he's not far off the mark with the odd montage of verbal punches. He's not the first in the history of cricket to aim them in the direction of the opposition, nor is he the first to angle a number at his own camp. Last week's interview echoed an even stronger outpouring of emotion from another iron-willed southern hemisphere batsman affectionately referred to by his initials.

In fact, Australia captain Allan Border went way further in a verbal tirade delivered during the Test Series of the 1986 New Zealand tour, when he told a wide-eyed press gathering that he was "leaving it up to them [his team] now."

Other choice phrases included, "I've given up speaking to them", "I've said everything that possibly can be said to this bunch" and, "They are going to show me if they really want to play for Australia and whether they really want to play under me."

It was remarkable, front page stuff, and makes Pietersen's comments look more suited to a village newsletter. AB outgunned KP. But what was even more remarkable, was the reaction of his teammates. Whilst the locker-room would have been a fascinating place to be as a tape of the interview was relayed to the stunned squad, on the pitch, they responded favourably in both the short and long term; squaring the subsequent ODI series, and going on to become a force in world cricket - and one which has grown from strength to strength.

Border's piercing honesty galvanised his team. He was justified by both the truth of his comments and his own standing as the team's best player. He felt, rightly, that not only were his colleagues failing to hit the heights he consistently achieved, but also that they were not allowing themselves to; not training hard enough, not paying the baggy green due respect. They were serious accusations, but founded on truths.

So too are Pietersen's comments. Strauss's England find themselves in a better position than Border's Australia, but they too face crunch time. Only total commitment, immaculate preparation and and an unrelenting will to win will ensure summer success. As Border did before him, Pietersen encapsulates such qualities and he's called upon his teammates to follow suit. Border's actions didn't do Australia any harm.

Moyes Exceeds Expectations

The FA Premier League Manager of the Year award is unlikely to end up on Merseyside this season. If it does, it will be found buried under a myriad of congratulatory letters and a league winners medal on Rafa Benitez's desk, a footnote to the prize most coveted by the red half of Liverpool. 

The award seems to follow the premiership title around gamely. It can usually be found in Manchester, whilst sometimes popping out of the office for a brief spell in London. Only once, when awarded to George Burley in 2001, has it ever been awarded to a manager who has not won the league. But, maybe this year it should end up on Merseyside regardless.

That David Moyes goes into the international break with his team sitting comfortably in 6th position - honing in on those above them and safe from the threat of those below them - represents a superb achievement. Given the obstacles which he and his Everton team have overcome this year, his is the outstanding managerial performance of 2008-09.

Whilst moaning about injuries is to an extent justified, a not inconsiderable part of a manager's job is learning to cope with them. Injuries are a certainty for every manager, each season, and Moyes deserves credit for how he has dealt with more than his fair share.

Yakubu, Everton's main threat, hasn't kicked a ball since November. The same is true of youngster James Vaughan, while Victor Anichebe joined them on the injury list in February and will not return this season. Louis Saha is Louis Saha and consequently Moyes has entered into a number of games without any fit strikers. This is not been evident in their impressively consistent results.

For a start, Moyes has negated the need to score an excess of goals by constructing an organised and efficient defence and midfield platform. His is a first team littered with reliable bargains, players who with the benefit of hindsight we can deduce he paid well under the odds for.

The likes of Lescott, Jagielka, Pienaar, Arteta and Howard were not unknowns before donning the Everton blue, but all have risen to heights higher than fans dared dream and their transfer fees suggested at time of purchase. The ability to acquire players for half their monetary value has enabled Moyes to infuse his squad with quality youngsters, such as Dan Gosling and the particularly outstanding Jack Rodwell, and the odd player of considerable expense, like Marouane Fellaini.

Everton's transfer policy and spirit is best summed up by Tim Cahill. Everton's man for any occasion has proved equally at home ghosting late into danger areas to score crucial goals in big games as he has filling in up front in the absence of strikers. Moyes has hinted he's a player of the season candidate, but in truth his chances probably mirror his manager's.

Understandably, when choosing the award's recipient in the past, the FA have favoured a direct correlation between a manager's achievements and silverware. Therefore, winning the FA cup is likely to be the only factor to give Moyes a realistic chance. But, with the odds against him, he's moulded a team that is very hard to beat, irrespective of goings on at Wembley.

Tellingly, Moyes has twice received the League Managers Association Manager of the Year award, in 2003 and 2005, the year he guided Everton to the fourth Champions League spot, at the expense of Liverpool. Such acclaim is unlikely to be matched by the FA in May, though his case, in a year in which all the big guns have struggled to assert themselves, is strong.

In all probability another Scot, Sir Alex Ferguson will be renewing his award ownership. As thoroughly deserved as it was last year, it is hard to argue that his team have progressed this year. He essentially bought himself a 30 million pound conundrum in Dimitar Berbatov, which he has spent the season trying to solve. This has yet to be done, and in truth, an until-now unpenetrable defence and an impressive increase in percentage of possesion have kept them ahead of a faltering pack. They are likely to taste league success, maybe even European too, but they have failed to convince like last season in the attacking third. 

This probably says more about the Premier League's chasing pack than about United. Rafael Benitez may have enjoyed two weeks which he'll do well to better for the rest of his career, but Liverpool's recent run cannot mask a largely inconsistent and often uninspired campaign, and an unhealthy reliance on two specific players. They too may prove successful in Europe, maybe even domestically, but they have produced considerably more average displays than you would associate with a team in their position.   

Similarly, Aston Villa's recent implosion should not colour an otherwise impressive season. Fans of such clubs strive for improvement, and the Villa Park faithful have certainly been treated to that, to the extent that they've forgotten the pre-Champions League contention days, as the recent booing of Gabriel Agbonlahor suggested. O'Neill deserves praise, but so too does Randy Lerner, who has supplied his manager with generous funds and a free reign to construct his masterplan.

Honourable mentions too have been merited by the managerial displays of Gianfranco Zola and Steve Bruce. Both joined their clubs in unsure times, but have replaced looming question marks of a worrying nature with ones concerning European qualification. 

These are the managers of the season; ones who've exceeded all expectation. And leading that pack is David Moyes.   

Ferguson Should Go With Tevez

The Carling Cup in the bag, a sizeable lead in the premiership, the preferential draw in the FA Cup semi-finals - an unblemished season beckons. However, the largest immediate obstacle to Manchester United's immortality, is a considerable one. 

Ferguson must guide his team past Jose Mourinho's Inter Milan on Wednesday night to keep alive his dream of retaining the Champions League title.

To do this he will have to find a solution to his striker "crisis". Which two of Rooney, Ronaldo, Berbatov and Tevez to pair upfront. If Manchester United did crises, they'd probably be the best crises in the world.

In reality Ronaldo is likely to slot into midfield. And then there were three. Rooney and Tevez in the bullish genius camp, and Berbatov, who represents the sublime or the non-existent, depending on his mood.

Rooney is a likely starter having returned to full fitness and goal-scoring form against Fulham on Saturday. And Tevez should join him.

For a start he too is in goal-scoring form, bagging a brace at the weekend. More significant than that on Saturday were the sparks flying between Rooney and Tevez. Finally Manchester United were able to produce the ruthless demolition they've been searching for all season, and Ferguson must seize the moment and bottle it.

Ironically, Berbatov has proved a more uncomfortable fit at United than Tevez. Seen by many as the final piece in the Old Trafford jigsaw, the unpredictable Bulgarian has complicated Ferguson's front-line options in a way that few predicted, and to the extent that the Scot is still undecided on his first choice pairing. Such problems were predicted upon Tevez's arrival with popular opinion assuming the Argentine dynamo would struggle to link with Rooney due to their almost identical approaches to the art of attacking. 

They are remarkably similar, but this consensus overlooked two key facts; such similarity fails to pose a problem when the forwards in question are complete strikers - muscular, capable in the air, strong on the ground - and when both possess world class ability.

Despite being the better team in the first leg, an inability to score an away goal places United in a precarious position this week. Concede and they must score two. The situation will require defending from the front. Pairing Rooney with Tevez will ensure this. Berbatov is capable of many things on a football pitch, whether or not defending is one of them remains to be seen, he has yet to trouble himself with trying.

Of course Tevez is no less capable of having an ineffectual night than Berbatov, but at least he'll die trying. If Inter's defenders leave the pitch on Wednesday having faced 90 minutes of Rooney and Tevez, they'll know all about it. If in doing so they are victorious they'll fully deserve their Quarter Final berth. After all, one of the few things more terrifying than facing Wayne Rooney, is facing him in tandem with a clone.

The "Lottery" of Penalties

Possibly the biggest mistake Spurs made regarding their narrow defeat in the Carling Cup final on Sunday, occurred in the days and weeks leading up to the final. "We thought there is no point in practising penalties" revealed striker Darren Bent. I wonder if their viewpoint was beginning to change after extra time as the exhausted players linked arms on the halfway line, a grim air of inevitability engulfing the men in white.

Admittedly the finer details of the previous 120 minutes of football merited the vast majority of Redknapp's preparation time, but the fact that his team had stuck to his solid gameplan so admirably, merely makes the assumption that penalties were not worthy of even an afterthought, all the more baffling.

Redknapp's description of penalties being a "lottery" is not entirely accurate. "Lottery" implies luck, that the Spurs players had no control over their own actions around the Wembley penalty spot, that every ounce of Jamie O'Hara's football talent and experience was extracted from his body as he began the fateful walk from the halfway line.

Sure, luck plays a part, but so does skill and mental strength. To claim that a penalty competition will be decided solely by luck is to do a disservice to those whose ability to thrive from the spot affords them 'expert' status. Alan Shearer did not have such an impressive record from the penalty spot because he was a very lucky man, more that he could place a ball and hold his nerve like few others. His unerring penalty accuracy is matched only by his uncanny ability to pick a shirt straight from the Matalan bargain bin for his appearances on the Match of the Day sofa.

Manchester United practised them, Spurs didn't. Of course this is not the reason Spurs failed to retain the trophy for the first time since Nottingham Forrest in 1990, but it has to be considered a factor.

It is impossible to simulate the pressure of a shootout in any training ground situation, but that stage is sufficient for honing the skills of psyching out the 'keeper, choosing a spot and ensuring the ball ends up there. If nothing else, Spurs should have entertained the possibility of a shootout occurring by identifying a number of possible takers; and those takers should have decided where their penalties would go - at least by the night before the match - eradicating any of the doubts that can flood the mind in the tsunami of nerves which plague such situations.

Ben Foster's use of the ipod represents the other end of the preparation spectrum. Verging on the obsessive, this attention to detail will understandably not appeal to all, but at the very least it shows that United had rehearsed for the situation as best they could. Pressure will always allow for lines to be fluffed, but as the dust of fate was sprinkled over proceedings, the Reds' superior planning told.

Torres Changes Headlines, But Little Else

The gist of tomorrows back-page headlines changed in an instant. Well, two instances, two minutes apart, both coertesy of Fernando Torres.

For 88 minutes the headlines were writing themselves. The Only Winners This Weekend: Manchester United. An air of predictability engulfed Anfield.

What wasn't predictable about the first 88 minutes? The lack of goals was. The result was. The fact that the PGA golf over on Sky Sports 3 offered more entertainment was. This fixture had form, and it was predominantly bad.

All of a sudden two late strikes change the complexion of the score and tomorrow's headlines. But what did the goals change about the title-race? What sway, if any, will the result have on the end-of-season destination of the Premiership trophy?

The answer is most likely very little. The result may have prolonged Liverpool's challenge by a couple of weeks, it has probably effectively ended Chelsea's, but ultimately this is looking increasingly like Manchester United's title to lose. 

This match offered the chance to make a statement, as United did in last month's 3-0 defeat of Chelsea, but neither side could manage more than a limp afterthought.

For 88 minutes Sir Alex Ferguson would have been chuckling away to himself had he broken his habit and decided to watch his title rivals in combat. By the final whistle, the chuckle may have ceased, but he'd be forgiven a small smile.

The truth is that for the vast majority of this game, Liverpool and Chelsea contrived to do what they seem to do best in these situations, and that's help United. We're talking about two teams who failed to win a single Premiership match while the champions were off in the far East before Christmas cementing their position as the greatest team on the planet. The initiative was left emphatically un-seized. 

The fact remains that Liverpool, with the most fortuitous of numerical advantages, sneaked a win, nothing more. This was one occasion where they were able to land on the get-out-of-jail card late on. We have seen enough this season to suggest that in too many matches the search for that card will be in vain. 

The late raid on the Chelsea goal will have altered headlines and the thrust of many an article. The media are desperate to manufacture interest at the top of the table, even when it appears to be ebbing away. But, it would be fickle to overlook the first 88 minutes of this game, and indeed their recent displays - 11 points from a possible 21 prior to this game.

No, the interest this season can be located below the top two - in the battle for the fourth Champions League spot and the relegation dogfight. 

As for Lampard's sending off, we cannot know the effect that it had on this particular game, though it will not trouble Chelsea further once it has been recinded. What is for certain, is the absurdity of Mike Riley's decision. No interpretation of the laws of the game can justify this decision. As Lampard  departed, so seemingly did his teams chances - they nearly got away with it today, but instead left that job to Liverpool.

The roar of the Kop as the late drama unfolded suggested they still believe. By all accounts the players do too. But they've yet to back up such genuine belief with genuine title-winning performances. This weekend's big winners? Manchester United.

Moody Loss a Blow For England

No one will understand the implications of the loss of Lewis Moody for England's Six Nations campaign more than his international coach and ex-teammate Martin Johnson. Johnson will be cursing his luck this week, and rather than any drug-related issues, it will be a broken ankle at the forefront of his mind.

With England's first match only two weeks away, this latest squad withdrawal is arguably the biggest blow to Johnson's hopes. England cannot afford a below-par showing - as different nations discover each year, a year is a devastatingly long a time to wait to rectify the wrongs of a doomed campaign.

 

The Autumn Internationals were always going to be the toughest of first tests for Johnson, and he was always likely to be forgiven for a shaky start. Having been thrown in at the deep end, the only life-raft in sight appeared in the form of the Pacific Islanders. England were run ragged in the choppy waters of the Southern Hemisphere big-guns.

The Autumn Internationals dented Englands pride - similar displays in the Six Nations will start to erode it. Johnson will be fully aware that he cannot survive solely on past playing glories and nor, one suspects, would he be in any way happy to do so. He will expect his players to stand up and be counted, in much the same way that they did for him as captain. He will have envisaged such a charge being led by the likes of Lewis Moody.

The flanker is a veteran of more than fifty games for his country. He doesn't always come off the pitch clutching the man-of-the-match award, his performances as such are not always notable, but his passion is. Like any player he may make mistakes; misplace passes, give away too many fouls, but successive England managers have found his big hits and big heart just too big to ignore.

Whilst experience should never be the be all and end all in sport, certain situations increase its importance. Martin Johnson's first Six Nations squad is one such situation. Lewis Moody alone is likely to practically match the collective caps count of the starting back line.

Crucially too, Moody has been part of a winning England setup. Making his debut in 2001 he soon became integral to Woodward's World Champions - a team immersed in a winning culture, which they have been striving to recapture ever since. 

Quite apart form his considerable experience, it is Moody's attitude, application and sheer desire to win which England will miss against their fierce rivals. These were grey areas for England in the Autumn. Of course they wanted to win, but at times they had a rather awkward way of showing it.

Moody, like Josh Lewsey, who England recently lost to International retirement, plays with an infectious and more obvious, unabashed brand of desire. What Martin Johnson would give for this to spread amongst his young charges. This England team must learn to steal the initiative, charge down the opposition right from the kick-off and pay no more than due respect to reputation. All of these details feature heavily on the combined CVs of Moody and Lewsey.

Whether starting or used from the bench one thing is for sure; Moody is a man possessed when representing the red rose. He'd be happy, one would imagine, to wield his crutches and take on Italy by himself in England's opening game if his manager asked him to. Indeed, those crutches would conveniently increase his wingspan for those fearless charge-downs. But instead he'll be resting that ankle, watching like the rest of us, hoping to see some of himself in his teammates' commitment.

England are capable of having a successful Six Nations campaign. But for now their camp is engulfed by unanswered questions. They will succeed if all the small details can come together. If they can sustain a challenge into the final quarter of a game, if the back line can find some unity and a common purpose and if a number of on-pitch leaders can emerge, then they can top the group. Fail to do so and they could find themselves propping it up.

In short, England fans do not know what to expect from their team this year. With Lewis Moody, they always do. 

City Must Hand Hughes Initiative In Transfer Market

So Kaka has seen sense (and a recent copy of the Premier League table) and decided to stay put for the time being. Good news for football, for Milan and for Manchester City.

Whilst it's a given that Kaka would improve any team in the world, he does not represent the best use of Manchester City's mega bucks at this stage of their side's development.

As unlikely to dramatically increase Eastlands season ticket sales that the triple captures of Bridge, Bellamy and DeJong are, they represent sensible business at this stage of a project which can only work if treated as long-term.

From the moment Sheikh Mansour grounded his private jet in Manchester with the intent of ripping up and rewriting football's rich list, the right noises have been made. No fear, we're in it for the long run the new regime were at pains to stress.

All very well but not entirely in keeping with the noises that 100 million pound bids make. Having raised an eyebrow with the Robinho offer, they well and truly raised two with their pursuit of Ricardo Kaka. 

And where does Mark Hughes fit into all this? The superstar Brazilian did not appear on his January wish-list. Being as sensible as his haircut suggests, the Hughes transfer targets list was headed by the likes of Scott Parker and Shay Given.

If the powers that be at Eastlands can avoid the distractions of the glitz and glamour on offer in Milan and other European football hotspots, then they would do well to consult to their manager's masterplan. 

At this stage of the project, City need their Waynes and their Craigs. Achieving moderate success with these players could lead to the attraction of the Ricardos and Thierrys. On the monopoly board of the Premier League stage, players of Kaka's ilk represent the luxury of hotels, but City have yet to purchase an above average street.

The galactico blueprint was set by Real Madrid at the turn of the millenium. Their project was launched on the relatively solid foundations of being the world's biggest club, but even their most staunch supporter would struggle to label it an unqualified success. 

City are not starting their journey from the same (or even vaguely similar) foundations. Hughes, a student of the game, understands the need to fill his squad with players in the league of his trio of new signings. Over a period of time such players should facilitate an accent up the table which in turn may start to interest the superstars of world football.

It appears that Manchester City could complete a deal for Shay Given this week. It wont attract a fifth of the newspaper space that the Kaka saga consumed, but it is exactly the avenue that the club should be exploring at this stage. 

Of all the various decision makers involved in project Manchester City, one party must take the lead on their approach in the transfer market, thus avoiding the current apparent confusion. They must listen to Hughes; the sensible man, the football man. 

The Zola Effect

If nice guys really do finish last then West Ham could be in trouble this season. When the club appointed Gianfranco Zola back in September, the general concensus of the footballing world was that they had aquired a fine man, if an unknown manager.  

Now we are beginning to get a sense of Zola the boss, and the signs are encouraging. Great players rarely make great (even good) managers, but Zola is hoping to buck that trend.

The club welcomed him by packing a seasons worth of headlines into a three month period. The fact that most of these referred to the court room and not the football pitch did not deter the diminutive Italian who has kept his cool admirably amidst the soap opera of Upton Park.

Repeatedly restating Scott Duxbury's assurances that no first team players will be sold in the January transfer window amid a barrage of press scepticism, Zola appears to be having his wish granted.

The sale of Craig Bellamy will be viewed as no disaster given a) the inflated fee involved and b) the team's, and in particular Carlton Cole's, recent performances.

Demanding to leave a club that have stuck by you through one and a half injury ravaged seasons tells you all you need to know about Craig Bellamy.

Whilst Zola has been a revelation in his off-pitch capacity, West Ham fans will be even more encouraged by the promising signs on the pitch.

West Ham have a proud tradition, and as such the fans can seem demanding. In actual fact, this is far from the truth - they are not unreasonably demanding trophies, their cravings are more subtle than that, and relate to style.

Traditionally the trophy cabinet at Upton Park has never needed to be any more than a cupboard, but that is not to say that a visit to the ground on matchday is not worthwhile - far from it. The Upton Park turf has been graced by some of the all-time greats, and the locals have grown accustomed to generations of aesthetically pleasing teams. An achievement they have come to value dearly.

Interestingly, the last time that a West Ham team could truly claim a place within that famous and proud dynasty of exhilerating football, they were also led by a charismatic Italian.

Paulo Di Canio was the sort of footballer the West Ham crowd feed off. The passionate love of the supporters was reciprocated entirely on the part of the man himself, as he forged a talismanic role in Redknapp's side of the late nineties.

That side were able to impress over a prolonged and stable period of time, culminating in 5th place (West Ham's highest Premier League placing) and an Intertoto cup spot in 1999.

 

Of course, West Ham fans are not alone in cherishing such a reputation, but no team could possibly cherish it more than them. For West Ham fans, trophies are intermitant , but their style should not be. They may not always pull, but it's vital that they look good trying.

On paper Alan Curbishley's tenure at Upton Park was a notable success. Avoiding relegation with the pendulum veering dramatically from the realm of improbable to that of impossible and the stability of a second season top-half finish are a credit to him. Replacing notable with remarkable would have required the addition of style to that substance.

Gianfranco Zola may just be combining the two.

The foundations of West Ham's recent success (four wins in five) run through the English spine of their team. From Rob Green and Mathew Upson at the back, through to Carlton Cole up front, via Scott Parker and Mark Noble.

Interestingly, this group of players (with the exception of Cole on a good day) have mastered the safe rather than the spectacular. But their consistency has started to spread through the team resulting in committed performances all over the pitch.

Summer signings and findings such as Valon Behrami, Herita Ilunga and the outstanding Jack Collison have followed the lead of the more established players, and West Ham are beginning to look a team again.

No on-pitch orchestrator in the Di Canio mould as yet, but maybe this side's equivalent is to be found sat on the bench or patrolling the touchline issuing orders.

Too early yet to tell whether this side can prize it's way into the club's aesthetics Hall of Fame -but signs that Zola, like his fans, understands that as a mark of true success.

The Pietersen Affair

Kevin Pietersen's reign as England captain has been brought to an end almost as quickly as it takes him to compile one of his swashbuckling centuries. Indeed his short tenure contained all the incident of an eye-catching Pietersen innings, but unfortunately ended with the sour taste of falling for a first-ball duck.

The whole incident covers none of the parties concerned in glory, but Pietersen's role in particular seems to have stirred up the most negative of reactions. Of the accusations flung his way, I find myself in sympathy with very few.

For a start, a large percentage of criticism directed his way seems unrelated to this particular incident. It is as if a lid has been lifted and critics are using an unsavory incident to vent all their long-held misgivings and problems with the former England skipper.

Certain quarters of the press just couldn't wait for this to happen - in their eyes Pietersen has always been guilty of the crime of not being very English. I do not mean this merely in the fact that he was not born and bred in this country, though this is the root of the problem, but it is more to do with the fact that nothing about the Kevin Pietersen package is in keeping with the English psyche.

He is brash, does not shy away from conflict, has complete confidence in his own abilities and can seem arrogant. But what is wrong with any of these qualities? In Australian cricketers they seem to be positive characteristics wistfully and ruefully admired from afar. "If only England players could adopt that attitude."

Glenn McGrath predicted at the start of the 2005 Ashes series that his Australia team would whitewash their English counterparts 5-0. Arrogance? Of course, but backed up by a genuine belief in his own and his teams abilities. The English media picked up on this brash statement and it was used by all concerned to try to spur the ultimately victorious England side on. 

But, far from condemning him, the English reaction towards McGrath the individual, was one largely of admiration. Arrogant Aussie banter it may have been, but he was speaking his mind; he genuinely believed in his words.

And why not? If those are the sort of noises being banded about the Australian dressing room as a genuine target for the series, then credit a player who discloses such information to the cricketing world. Such nuggets are gold dust to a press who are increasingly dealing with PR savy sporting professionals. 

Genuine self belief and the speaking of one's mind have traditionally been Australian traits, and ones with which Kevin Pietersen can identify. But whereas it is a thing to be admired in the Australian setup, we have always been wary of Pietersen's own brand of self confidence. As with much of the way in which the game is evolving, we view the unknown with a definite sense of unease.

Whilst one may struggle to defend his attitude if his performances since his international debut in 2004 had been substandard, the simple fact is he's backed up his confidence with brilliance on the pitch. Comfortably England's best batsman, arguably the world's, Pietersen, just like the Australia team of the last decade, could not have achieved their dominance without this genuine and unwavering self belief.

If Ian Bell could marry his undoubted and considerable talent with a Pietersenesque confidence, then maybe he'd be closer to his former captain's century count. But apparently repeatedly failing to fulfil god-given potential is a far inferior crime than doing so in style.

Complimenting his Southern Hemisphere attitude is a far from conventional batting technique. Again this characterises Pietersen, and sets him apart from his English team mates. Eye-catching, bar emptying, switch-hitting, the most exciting sight in world cricket when in full flow, yet he still hasn't been able to fully win round the establishment of the English game after four years of representing the three lions.

Pietersen would have expected a moderate amount of suspicion directed his way as he made it over from his homeland to embark on his English cricketing journey. Deciding that the only way to convince the doubters was by proving himself on the pitch, he set to work. 

The big early test of his fledgling international career was batting for England in South Africa. Vilified by the home fans, this was as tough an examination as any sportsman could expect throughout their whole career. England failed, losing 4-1, but Pietersen came away with the man-of-the-series award and three centuries to his name. Committed to the cause? He looked it.

In fact that series set the tone for the next four years. Virtually ever-present in the test and ODI teams, Pietersen has excelled for the country of his mother's birth. Foreigners seeking British citizenship have to complete forms and tests to prove their commitment to the country - 158 series-winning runs on the final day of an Ashes series should add weight to the least convincing of application forms. 

Of course, until now detractors had no reason to publicly condemn Pietersen, but the Moores affair has given them just that. 

Peter Moores was a man with whom, in a cricketing sense, Kevin Pietersen could not get on. They differed in approach, philosophy and application. The coach-captain relationship is key, and when Pietersen deemed the situation unworkable he decided to do something about it. He could have waited, in a very English way, until this year's Ashes series had past, thus jeopardizing his team's chances, but he chose not to merely muddle through - he never has been very English.

The Race for the Title

The marathon that is the English Premier League season has reached its half way point. This is the first real marker at which we can gauge anything truly meaningful concerning current league position and end of season league standings. Management, players and fans alike are beginning to get an inkling of what sort of season they're in for and are readying themselves to watch the necessary horror or excitement ensue.

The Premier League has long had much to recommend it as the best in the world, and this season, an increase in the number of breathtakingly outstanding matches, and a genuine three-horse title race has further pushed this claim. Rafael Benitez's patient rebuilding program at Liverpool has finally seen his side able to launch a credible challenge for league honours, joining Chelsea and Manchester United in the title hunt. 

Reluctant at first to acknowledge what could still prove to be another false dawn, the media are starting to come round to the possibility of the league title returning to Liverpool for the first time in 20 years. Indeed, many are predicting the return of the title to Merseyside. 

And they have a chance. Benitez knows his squad - its strengths and limitations - most of the players are his buys, and he finally has a system suited to his personel which is effective if not spectacular. At no point this season have Liverpool played the league's most attractive football, but at the turn of the year their results have been good enough to land them in pole position.

Aesthetics has never been Benitez's priority and this is a philosophy justified through recent results. Pairing Mascherano and Alonso together in the middle of midfield invites no comparisons with Brazil, but in terms of ball winning and retention of possesion the two have provided a superb base from which the team can build. The system seems to get the best out of their outstanding captain Stephen Gerrard and they have even managed to go long periods without the prolific Fernando Torres.

Good as Liverpool have been, they have somewhat relied on the indifferent results of the other top teams. In addition, a failure to capitalise on the inconsistent results of their rivals has resulted in only the narrowest of leads. This failure to put any real daylight between themselves and the chasing pack raises questions about Liverpool's title credentials.

On top of this there remains a doubt that Liverpool can up the stakes in the likely event that either one or both of Manchester United and Chelsea decide to really come to the party. Effective if not spectacular, it is hard to see that Liverpool have an extra gear to ease into in order to break away from the pack. They have been good, but little evidence suggests they can be better. By contrast, Chelsea's early season form shows they are capable of much better than they have produced in recent months.

While a Chelsea resurgance is possible, using history as a guide, a Manchester United cavalry charge is inevitable. Ferguson, a veteran and master of title run-ins, has yet to see his side fire on all cylinders this season. We know this because at no point have they matched last seasons imperious form, and the only transfer activity involving them since last season has significantly strengthened their squad.

By definition they possess a squad of title winners, and in contrast with Liverpool they have portrayed the impression of playing within themselves. The idea that they have an advanced level of performance into which Ferguson can expertly guide his team spells danger for the other two title contenders. 

So it remains to be seen where the title will end up in its seventeenth season. In the marathon of the Premier League season Liverpool are the early pacesetters but the figure of Manchester United looms ominously on their shoulders.

  

Cipriani's Apprenticeship

Danny Cipriani will be hoping that 2009 brings some consistency to his game and heralds a fresh start to his fledgeling rugby career. He kicked off the year in the best possible way, with an influential performance in Wasp's 24-18 victory over London rivals Harlequins.  

For Cipriani 2008 contained some noticeable highs, but finished on a downwards spiral of lows culminating in England's morale-sapping Autumn internationals. The turn of a new year will see the Wasps and England fly-half set out to prove his growing number of critics wrong and show the world he has been harshly treated.

And harshly treated he has been. A remarkably speedy recovery from serious injury, in time to spearhead England's southern hemisphere examination, may in fact have hindered his progress. He faltered in some big matches in front of a critical and demanding rugby press. On top of that, the Twickenham faithful seemed to make him a scapegoat for the teams massively under par performances during those matches. But they are missing the point. 

Such close scrutiny is in danger of hampering this true gem of English rugby. He was not at his best in the Autumn, and his performance level dipped, in direct correlation with the scrutiny of the media and the supporters, as the series of tests unfolded. 

The first match against Australia was typical Cipriani. There was good and there was bad. Wayward passes and charged-down kicks were sandwiched by sublime runs and the rare ability (in England's case) to find space. That's what you get with Cipriani. No 21 year-old will ever look the finished article at such a level, and he possesses undoubted weak areas, but when he's good, he looks the future of English rugby for the next 10 years.

Twenty minutes into the South Africa fixture and fans were calling for Cipriani to be taken off. He had endured a torrid time and the world champions were almost out of sight. Again these fans were missing the point. The only bench alternative was Toby Flood, a fine player, but not yet a match winner at this level, and nowhere near Cipriani's class. Flood could have come on, and the scoreline would quite possibly have settled in its present state, but that was no good to England. They needed magic, a dazzling break, a sublime bit of skill, something, someone to get them back into contention; and amongst their flat-footed backline the only man willing or capable was the man currently occupying number 10 shirt.

It didn't come off for Cipriani that day, but he will have many others - as long as he is allowed the freedom to express himself and the time to learn from his mistakes. He can land his team in hot water, but that can be addressed - he can be taught how not to. What cannot be taught is that rugby brain he possesses; his magical rugby instinct, the ability to spot a break, and his willingness to try it. Cipriani is one of that rare breed, a match winner, and England are not blessed with those. If the harsh scrutiny of his game blunts this, his main asset, then England are in danger of losing potentially their most potent weapon.

It is testiment to how quickly Cipriani has bedded into not only professional rugby but the international stage, that everybody seems to have forgotten that he is a 21 year-old who suffered an ankle injury in May which sidelined him until October. That he was picked to play in the ill-fated Autumn international series is not his fault. Too early? Possibly, but through his inclusion, Martin Johnson was recognising his value to the England setup, as well as the dearth of alternatives.

Cipriani was replaced for the final match of the Autumn series by Toby Flood. Flood may have managed to avoid any high profile errors that day against the fearsome All Blacks, but he failed to get a grip on the game in the way that the shirt number on his back requires him to. In short, England looked like they had no chance, and that is what Cipriani will always give you; a chance.

Cipriani started 2009 in typical Cipriani style. Having taken a complete break from rugby in the Carribean the previous week, he returned to the starting line-up today against Harlequins. By taking the holiday he ran the risk of further criticism if the move was not payed back with a strong performance. Fortunately it was.

Not a perfect performance - two charged down kicks spring to mind (a rather too regular offence) - but a commanding one, which was highly instrumental in Wasp's victory and did enough to suggest that club and country will reap the rewards of their young fly-half in 2009. 

His quick ball in the attacking third in particular will have caught the watchful eye of England manager Martin Johnson, and his expert handling in the Chris Bishay's try was nothing short of sublime. That single moment summed up everything that Danny Cipriani is about, and all he offers a team. As with Wayne Rooney in football, no matter how anonymous he may have been for 60 minutes of a game, his hands and feet can conjour something out of nothing.

Danny Cipriani is serving his rugby apprenticeship in the eyes of the whole world, at Premiership and International level. He sometimes gets it wrong, but when he gets it right he does so in such a way that few players in the world (and even fewer in and around the England set-up) are capable of. Through his endeavours to date he has shown more than enough to warrant the perseverance of his selection for club and country.  Unpolished maybe, but a true gem nonetheless.