The World Cup's Webb of lies and intrigue

Midfielder Mark van Bommel responds to criticism of the Dutch style of play

English ref Howard Webb has been lambasted by the Dutch coach, Bert van Marwijk, following Spain’s 1-0 victory in the World Cup final.

Van Marwijk was critical of Webb’s handling of the game which saw a record number of yellow cards issued.

The Dutch boss said: “The Englishman ruined the game. At no stage did he attempt to stop the Spanish players from hitting my players’ studs with their chest, hitting their boots with the backs of their calves, or using their shinpads to rake the soles of my players’ boots.

“It was outrageous to allow a team that passed a ball that quickly to win.”

Webb was not intimidated by the finger-wagging he received afterwards from van Marwijk, saying: “I’m a policeman from Rotherham so being confronted by an angry bloke called Bert is not a unique experience.”

A FIFA spokesman said: “His name’s Bert? We thought he was a Dick!”

Ole! It's Spain for me

I'd like to say this has been the best World Cup in living memory, but obviously I can't.

Not simply because England were inept - it just never seemed to engender the same excitement as previous competitions.

However, tomorrow's final does have the potential to go down as a classic, featuring two teams with a reputation for good football - classic football in the Spanish case.

And it's the Spaniards I want to win because I consider myself - maybe pretentiously - a football purist.

I thoroughly enjoyed watching them play keep-ball against the Germans even though, like many others, I was urging them to show more of a killer instinct in and around the box.

I have nothing against the Dutch per se - indeed in 1974 and 1978, as a kid, I was heartbroken when they failed to win the World Cup. Like many of my generation I was enthralled by the likes of Cruyff, Neeskins, Krol, Rensenbrink and Rep. Superb players allowed a freedom the like of which we may not see again.

And that's the crux. That golden generation failed to win the World Cup - and it would be wrong for this Dutch team to succeed where they failed. They pale in comparison.In the same way that it would have been wrong for John Terry and Wayne Rooney to have been elevated to the stature of Sirs Bobby Moore and Geoff Hurst. Unimagineable.

Robben, for all his undoubted ability, is a big girl's blouse, or a cheat if you prefer. Van Bommel and de Jong are quite simply thugs. Both should have received straight red cards at some stage in this tournament, yet both will probably feature tomorrow night.

No, the Spanish are the natural torch-bearers for Cruyff and Rinus Michels' Total Football generation - just look at how offensive are the full-backs.

Nailing colours to the mast: I want Spain to win. Apart from anything else, I've got money on them...

Why do we demand club success for our national boss?

So if not Fabio Capello, who?

Harry Redknapp? Don’t make me laugh. His wheeler-dealing is hardly appropriate to international football and any Pompey fan will tell you his tactical acumen could be engraved on a pin-head with a pneumatic drill.

Roy Hodgson? Maybe. But why would a sensible man in his 60s take on the England job in preference to rejuvenating the sleeping giant at Anfield.

Jose Mourinho? Probably the ideal choice, but the suits at the Football Association are no more likely to appoint him than they were Brian Clough in the mid-70s. And we all know he was the right man then.

But why does an international manager need to be proven at club level? It seems only UK teams are fixated on that ideal.

I’ve looked at the careers of World Cup-winning managers in my years watching football and club success does not appear to be a priority.

Franz Beckenbauer had no real managerial experience before taking over the German national side in 1984 and six years later won the World Cup.

In the six years after he left the job he managed Olympique Marseille and Bayern Munich, collecting domestic titles along the way. But that was it. He’s had more marriages than club management jobs.

Carlos Bilardo won the World Cup in 1986 – and although he had Maradona in the side, which isn’t a bad position to be in, his club experience was limited to two spells at Estudiantes and brief stints at Deportivo Cali and San Lorenzo. And he didn’t pull up any trees there.

Italy’s Enzo Bearzot spent six years as coach to his country’s under-23 side before moving up and ultimately winning the World Cup in 1982. Before that he’d been manager for one season at Prato – no me neither, Prato having last reached the heights of Serie B in 1964.

César Luis Menotti (Argentina 78)? One league title in four seasons with Newell’s Old Boys and Huracán before being given the job.

Helmut Schön (West Germany 74)? A brief spell as manager of unfancied Wiesbaden, before spending four years as manager of a then-independent Saarland side, before becoming assistant to Sepp Herberger for the West German national team and succeeding him in 1964.

Four largely uneventful years as manager of Botafogo was all Mario Zagalo had on his managerial CV before taking over the Brazilian national side and taking them to glory in 1970 despite the much discussed personality issues within the camp.

Carlos Alberto Parreira had won nothing as a club manager before leading Brazil to glory in 1990. Instead it was his achievement in getting Kuwait into the World Cup finals which raised his stock. Subsequently he has, in total, taken five nations to the World Cup finals. He didn’t even play the game at a particularly high level.

Big Phil Scolari’s club management experience was extensive but much of it was spent outside of the mainstream football nations, in Kuwait and Japan, for example; though he did win titles in Brazil. But we know how successful he was at Chelsea and it is Premiership success that we – and particularly our knee-jerk football media – demand.

Frenchman Aimé Jacquet (1998) had a successful club career and obviously Marcello Lippi (Italy 2006) had an exceptional club career, but they are the exceptions. And we only have to look back a few days to see where Lippi is now.

So the next time somebody calls for David Beckham, Alan Shearer or Stuart Pearce to be given the job don’t automatically dismiss the suggestion out of hand.

Goodbye and good riddance

I was going to blog about England players' World Cup capitulation but I thought they couldn't be arsed, so why should I?

I want a passport and a sex change...

I've lived and breathed football since I was knee high to Brian Flynn - which for those of you who don't remember the Burnley, Leeds and Wales midfielder, suggests I was quite small.

I've never been able to play at any level other than Sunday league despite my obsession with practice - and at 44 I thought my chance had gone ... until this morning when I saw the highlights from the opening game in the 2007 Women's World Cup.

I may be the size of a small football stadium, but with the benefit of a quick snip down there and a successful application to become an Argentine citizen I could clearly play in goal for the national women's team.

Poor Vanina Correa - not only did she concede 11 in the opening game against Germany, but she's clearly useless: two own goals and the reactions of a cadaver.

Now where do I sign up for that sex change...