These commentators and pundits are wrong. Yes it is down to the players as much as the management.

Individual players make up the team. They have under-performed. If the people that make the game what it is, the fans, wish to show their disappointment and frustration by booing the players that is their right. They pay the money to watch the game. They buy the replica shirts. They buy the Sky subscriptions.

If these players want to take the money then they should deliver the goods. This is not a cosy club for the overpaid and the retired. This is real life sport.

Boo them if you feel it is the kick up the arris that these prima-donnas deserve.

He is a great bloke, a great manager and a great motivator. He has been very harshly treated.

None of England failing to qualify for Euro 2008 was his fault.

I think he is fantastic.

Could I borrow one of your Carribean homes for a couple of weeks Steve please?

The scene is Bishoploch Primary School, Glasgow.  
Teacher: 'Good morning children, today is Thursday, so we're going to have a general knowledge quiz. The pupil who gets the answer right can have Friday and Monday off and not come back to school until Tuesday.'  
Wee Murray thinks, 'Ya beauty! I'm pure dead brilliant at general knowledge, so I am. This is goannae be a doddle!'   Teacher: ' Right class, who can tell me who said. ' Don't ask what our country can do for you, but what you can do for your country?'  
Wee Murray shoots up his hand, waving furiously in the air.
Teacher looking round picks Farqhuar Fauntleroy at the front. 'Yes, Farqhuar?' Farqhuar (in a very English accent): ' Yes miss, the answer is J F Kennedy - inauguration speech 1960.'
Teacher: 'Very good Farqhuar. You may stay off Friday and Monday and we will see you back in class on Tuesday.'  
The next Thursday comes around, and Wee Murray is even more determined.
Teacher: 'Who said 'We will fight them on the beaches, we will fight them in the air, we will fight them at sea. But we will never surrender?'
Wee Murray's hand shoots up, arm stiff as a board, shouting 'I know, I know. Pick me Miss, pick me Miss'   Teacher looking round and picks Tarquin-Smythe, sitting at the front: 'Yes Tarquin.'
Tarquin (in a very, very posh English accent): 'Yes miss, the answer is Winston Churchill, 1941 Battle of Britain speech.' Teacher: 'Very good Tarquin, you may stay off Friday and Monday and come back to class on Tuesday.'
The following Thursday comes around and Wee Murray is hyper; he's been studying encyclopaedias all week and he's ready for anything that comes. He's coiled in his wee chair, dribbling in anticipation.
Teacher: 'Who said 'One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind?'
Wee Murray's arm shoots straight in the air, he's standing on his seat, jumping up and down screaming 'Pick me miss. Pick me miss. I know, I know. Me Miss, me miss, meeeeee '  
Teacher looking round the class picks Rupert, sitting at the front. 'Yes, Rupert?'
Rupert (In a frightfully, frightfully, ever so plummy English accent): 'Miss, that was Neil Armstrong, 1969, the first moon landing.'
Teacher: 'Very good Rupert. You may stay off Friday and Monday and come back into class on Tuesday.'  
Wee Murray loses the plot altogether, tips his desk and throws his wee chair at the wall. He starts screaming : 'WHERE THE F@&K DID ALL THESE ENGLISH B@ST@RDS COME FROM?'
Teacher spins back round from the blackboard and shouts: 'Who said that?'  
Wee Murray grabs his coat and bag and heads for the door, 'Bonnie Prince Charlie, Culloden, 1746.  See ye on Tuesday Miss.'

Those that did were greeted by large flag waving crowds as the Regiment marched through the city. Those that didn't were remember with high respect.
Other towns and cities could learn a real lesson from the good burghers of Norwich.

Listen,
I said don't argue,
You know I'm always right,
And if you keep disagreeing with me,
You'll end up in a fight.

You say it's black,
I say it's white,
You say it's wrong,
I say it's right,
You say it's day,
I say it's night.

I used to cantankerous,
But now I'm not okay,
It's you, you just don't listen,
To a single word I say.

Lesson there somewhere Stevie boy!!!!!

Tonights England debacle showed just what the present situation is doing to OUR football. Half of the team that were playing tonight can't get a game for their clubs on a regular basis.

Still I suppose most of the Premier club fans will be too daft to do so.

England not in the top 16 in European football. Diabolical.

I am truly gutted.

Global warming? Please send me some.

However, I have very recent posts with more than that number of comments and they don't appear anywhere? This appears strange.
Do you have to sign up to appear there? As I am already Pro I would have thought not.

So how does it work?

Buggered if I know.
Come on Blog.Co.UK someone put me out of my misery eh?

Here is my prediction.

Russia will beat Israel tonight and so put an end to any of our qualifying hopes as Croatia will also beat Macedonia.

On Wednesday England will get a draw with Croatia.

I am not sure about Mclarens future. I think that he will stay in the job but as this is in the lap of the FA, who knows? They may bow to media pressure and get rid of him, but if they do who is going to be mad enough to want to take the job on?

I am not sure if he should be sacked to be honest. If he is it will only go to hide the fact that English football has a very soft underbody now. There are not enough players of real quality playing consistently in the Premiership.  Therefore when there is an injury to one of the few players of real class being selected for England then there are no real alternatives and second-raters are being picked.

Players are vastly overpaid and tend to live in a surreal world far removed from the fans. This, I believe, has taken the edge off their desire to be the best.

Look at what the Under-21s are doing at the moment. Beating all before them, top of their qualifying group and almost certainties to move into the latter stages of the competition. So the raw talent is there. Then what happens? Well the players do not get the opportunity of gaining experience in the top flight and so fall behind their international rivals. They then move in to the full England side and then fail, mostly due to lack of experience. A sad scenario.

Will it be improved? No I don't think so. The FA do not have the backbone to do anything about it, nor do they have the vision or the will. The people that run the FA are also on the gravy-train and won't be rocking the boat.

Very sadly, I think we are watching the slow decline of English international football. International football will have less and less real meaning over time as club football inexorably moves to a pan-european stage. It will not be long before the clubs are playing in a pan-european league that will replace the present europena competitions. This will become, as it has to a great extent, the real focus of football in this country.

The only real winner? The channel tunnel.

I really hope that I am wrong.

However this goes much deeper than the NHS slant. What about the way that this degrades women?

A fantastic piece in the papers today by Saira Khan tells it from a muslim womans point of view.

This is well worth reading so pleas click here.

(Continued)

But God was not listening, or at least he wasn't listening to me at that moment. Looking down the line he probably had many more before me to deal with. Poor Sods.

Christ it's cold. The kind of cold that you don' ever get used too. Come to think of it, I can't remember when I last felt warm. Will I ever feel warm again.

Panic settling down now. Feel strangely numb.
Know I am going to have to do it, know I don't want to.

"2 minutes - Stand to. 2 minutes stand to."

Now all the NCO's spring to life. Cajoling and bawling at the blokes. Getting them up and ready to go. Ready to go where? Up the bloody ladders, that' where. A wooden road to oblivion.

Almost in spite of myself I move. Get in line. Lieutenant Gibbs pushes past me. Strange little bloke. Always been good to the men. Sort of man that you would follow, even now. Not that we have much choice. Full of confidence he is. Then why is he shaking on that ladder? Sweating despite the cold.

"1 minute - Oficers Ready. One minute" comes the shout.

Breathing deeply now. Controlling the rising panic and ignoring the rising bile. Gun held ready. Best friend they say. Not at this moment in time.

Dunc is right in front of me now. Christ what a stink. Smells like the previous nights state has returned.

Gibbs is staring intently at his watch, whistle goes up to his mouth.

Whistles blow. Shit we are going to do it. Ghost-like listless men push themselves forward up the ladders and disappear over the top. Still on the ladder when the screams begin. Don't want to go but being pushed from behind.

At the top. Christ what a sight. Men in khaki as far as the eye can see both sides. Pouring over the top. Steadfastly going forward .. and then collapsing. 100 yards in front of me and hardly anyone is standing. 100 yards. Christ life isn't now measured in time but distance. 100 yards. Moving on. Why am I?

Shouldn't I just stop? Shouldn't I just drop to the ground and stay there? Of course I should. Will I? No. 
Fuck knows why but I go on. Bullets sing and zip through the air. Buzzing like bees. Nothing else to be heard. 

Come on you Kraut bastards. Come on. Look out for me because I am coming. Yes. 

On I go picking up speed. Heavy going in the cloying freezing pools of mud .... and the bodies. Raise my rifle. Can see them just ahead. Going to fire my first shot of the war, first chance at the first German I have seen. He is going to get it. The bastard.

Pain. What? More pain. Ground freezing cold under my back. Mud soaking through by uniform. Pain. Get up!!!!

No movement. Come on you useless body get up. Nothing ... except pain. 
Then nothing.

"Don't point that scabby thing at me!" yells Jenkins.

"I really need a piss" moans Dunc "Why can't I piss? I have been pissing and shitting myself all night and now I can't go"
 
His face is as white as a sheet, eyes red-rimmed and staring. Hand shaking.

"Well put the bugger away" advises Jenkins it will get frost-bite in this weather".

Bloody hell. How can he make jokes at a time like this. Chirst I feel sick. Ten minutes. No -  less than that.

The Corporal passes by "Come on my lads" he says "Bit of back-bone now eh? We are going to go and show them bastard Germans what for. Come on lads a bit of back-bone."

A slow whimpering whine goes up. Rodney sinks to his knees and empties the meagre contents of his stomach onto the brown sludge. "Please don't make me go over, don't please. I aint ready to die - Please" The last word wails out into the cold air.

Jenkins leaps forward and kicks hard into his midrift. "Shut up" he yells. "Who wants to listen to your fucking rubbish? We are all going. Hear me?" His boot bounces off the tin-helmet of the now prone whimpering Rodney.

"Pack that up now!" yells the corporal. "Get up and shut up" he orders as he pulls Rodney to his feet. " Sort him out you".

Me. How does he expect me to sort him out. I daren't let go of the wooden post beside the ladder that leads to oblivion. If I move I reckon I am going to collapse into a heap as well.
Then from down the line comes the shout "5 minutes - check your weapons. 5 minutes"

Five minutes. How can I make them last. Bollocks I'm scared. Stomach churns and turns to ice water. Blood pounds in my ears. Sight grows dim as if the watery light is dying. Can't do this. Just can't. I swear if it wasn't for the freezing water leaking into my collar and down my back I would pass out.
Come on God help me out - I plead.

(Episode 2 to come)

Local news reports that in another part of the country firefighters are having to respond to calls doubled up. Two engines instead of one.

Why? Because the brave youths in Grimsby have decided that it is good sport to assault, throw bricks and fireworks at fire crews going about their business. The brigade has, quite rightly, got completely pissed off with this and have resorted to fitting cameras on all sides of the engines and having one crew watching the backs of the other whilst they put out fires.

Dumb scum is not a strong enough term to describe these morons.

Don't forget to feed the birds now that it is getting a lot colder.

Hilary Beach the Mayoress (probably thinks that term is a slight on her sex) of Chepstow has requested the Rifle Regiment not to carry guns at the Rememberance Parade tomorrow because guns are too violent.

Like a lot of her ilk this dozy woman has no sense of history, right or wrong, military etiquette or tradition.

If she does not want the military to be able to pay their respects to those that have given their lives for this country in a proper manner in her town, then she should tell them so and they can go elsewhere.

Following her idiotic logic through, perhaps we ought to have said to the Germans during two world wars, and others since "Please don't do that you know it is not nice" and the aggressors would have blushed coyly and gone home.

Give us a break please.

Now the boys mother is demanding that all school buses carry supervisors to ensure that the children are safe from this sort of thing.

What sort of thing? How does a 12 year old boy sitting on a bus minding his own business fall out of one of the tiny windows on a double-decker?

The answer is he can't.

Only a stupid child that does not want to behave himself and can't control his actions manages to climb out of a bus window and fall to the ground!!!

Bus supervisors for 12 year olds?

No missus. You make sure that he behaves himself on the mammoth 10 to 20 minute journey by bus, or failing that you take the responsibility for getting him to school safel himself if he can't be trusted not to do something as stupic.

Comments such as it is the only way I can afford a house just about summed up the response. I did point out that if these mortgages were taken out then those doing so could not really "afford" the mortgage, they could just get one.

It gives me no pleasure then to report that the biggest mortgage lenders have put together a report warning that house repossessions are set to rise by 50% in the next year, as interest rates, taxes and the cost of living continue to rise.

I sometimes think that the lessons of history are never learnt. Look at the huge number of repossessions in the 90's. Negative equity, unaffordable interest rates etc.

Will we learn in the future. Sadly, probably not. The total reliance on credit that has become the norm for huge numbers in our society is now too deeply ingrained. Credit is not a bad thing as long as the debt is managed. That is something that has been ignored or forgotten.

"If you can't afford it, don't buy it", is now viewed as a totally old-fashioned outlook. All I can say is that I am glad it is mine.

Top flight football has already been taken away from the masses. Footballs image has been tarnished by these financial exhorbitances and many football fans, myself included, have been completely turned off by the way it has gone.

Just think. The players that are earning that type of money have not won anything on the international stage for 41 years so far and it looks as though they won't even qualify for a second level tournament such as the European Championships now. Pathetic.

Not only is it immoral that they get paid at these kind of levels, but by their very performances it shows that they don't deserve it anyway.