Influencers: add cost and stymie facts

Best 2026 World Cup Advert 

Watching the World Cup forced me to watch some games on ITV, which means that I have been bombarded by adverts fronted by a baleful bonanza of influencers. What are they for? What do they add other than cost? Davis Beckham has appeared in 11 adverts for products, some of which he has probably never consumed or used. Companies believe that celebrities sell products, and perhaps they do if they are authentic. Those promoting charities are probably doing it because they have a genuine commitment to the cause. Footballers promoting a make of boot are probably sponsored by Nike or Adidas; Nigel Farage promoting Crypto Investments is genuine. I am less sure about Alan Shearer advertising Betfair, Coral or McDonald's, or Micah Richards promoting We Buy Any Car.

In the days of newspaper adverts, we got pictures and some facts about the product or service, and we could easily skip over them. TV adverts gave us colour and sometimes humour. World Cup adverts give us fantasy, and they cost a bomb for filming, payments to influencers, and FIFA's broadcasting charges passed on by the TV and streaming advertising costs. Who pays? The supporters for tickets and TV networks. And we all have to suffer the intrusion of adverts not only at half-time, which can last 25 minutes, but also before and after the games and during hydration breaks. FIFA created as many opportunities as possible to fire adverts at us. 

The result: I only managed to watch 5 games from end to end. The others I gave up at half-time or, on some occasions, at the first hydration break. The prospect of watching David Beckham and similar money-obsessed influencers raking in even more dosh was a complete turn-off.

I was delighted to see that the best-ranked advert in the World Cup was a home-based product that had no influencer other than Susan Boyle, and she was an AI insert as she swayed about on the girders of the Forth Railway Bridge. Pure Dead Brilliant.

Irn Bru World Cup Advert

Is the English Premier League in Freefall?

Pep about to go?

Klopp in full voice

The news that Pep Guardiola is to retire as Manchester City Manager, and the Premier League likely to be won by an Arsenal team that never fails to depress you with time wasting, professional fouls and a multitude of 1-0 victories, suggests that the halcyon days of the Premier League are in freefall. Liverpool have abandoned Klopp's heavy-metal football, with Arne Slot and his team of coaches now having them play ambient house football. Manchester United and Chelsea continue to spend millions and sack managers in quick time. The most enjoyable team to watch this season has been Bournemouth, and their manager, Andoni Iraola, is also leaving. 

What a contrast to watching teams like Paris Saint-Germain, Bayern Munich and Barcelona, who play offensively with speed, passion and without the negative defensive traits of the Premier League. It is reminiscent of the 1990s, when Serie A was the go-to league for exciting football. Think Zola, Maradona, Van Basten, Batistuta, Zidane, Weah and superb defenders like Maldini, Baresi, and Nesta. 

It is time to forgo Sky, Football Focus, and Amazon with their ever-increasing platitudes served by their dirge of commentators. They have relegated coverage of the Championship, a real fan's league, which is withering as the Premier League accumulates almost all the TV and sponsorship money, creating a huge inequality in salaries for managers, players and agents who exist in the bubble of avarice that dominates the beautiful game. Paris Saint-Germain are showing us that football is best served in a spirit of Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité. Let's hope that they put Arsenal to the sword.

Gianfranco Zola, Napoli Days

Colin Bell

Like any football fan from the 60s and 70s, I was saddened to hear the death of Colin Bell. Out of all the players I have watched live in games, he has been one of my three all-time favourite footballers. The others were Tom Finney and Franz Beckenbauer. All of them could turn a game single-handed but were team players and one-club players, although Colin Bell career at Manchester City followed his teenage years playing for Bury. 

What made him special was his versatility, he could run at defences beating them with speed and fast footwork, shoot with both feet, head and tackle and he had legendary stamina that gave him his nickname of Nijinsky. This was allegedly after the champion horse but it could just as easily have been after the Russian ballet dancer who brought athleticism to ballet. 

I was lucky enough to be at university during Colin Bell's finest years at Machester City from 1966 -1971 and in those days it was easy to go along to games without tickets. I would travel to watch Manchester City at grounds in Sheffield, Manchester and Liverpool when they were in their pomp and they won the League, FA Cup, League Cup and European Cup Winners Cup in successive seasons. 

Colin Bell didn't have bad games and he always gave 100% unlike some of his teammates. At one end of season game against Sunderland at Maine Road, Mike Summerbee, the spirited right-winger, was selling Cup Final tickets to fans in the crowd. Mike Doyle and Franny Lee could lose their temper and get sent off during any game and Neil Young, the talented but aloof inside left, was so laid back he played wearing his watch. Bell was both the heartbeat of the team and the link player between what we now call the midfield and the forwards. In most teams the no. 8 was the second striker and Bell performed this role, hence his 152 goals for Manchester City. He also created goals in the way that Kevin de Bruyne does today and covered for his defenders when they were out of position. His Opta analytics would have been off the scale..

At school, I had played on the right-wing trying to emulate Tom Finney, it was not possible. At Liverpool University I was a midfielder and captain of my team, trying to play in the mould of Colin Bell, except that my tackling and heading were woeful. My flatmate, Paul, was a rabid Manchester City fan, his father was the town clerk of Knutsford and City season ticket holder. After the five -a-side league on Saturday morning, we would drive to Knutsford for some lunch and then get a lift to Maine Road. Paul was left-footed and played a bit like Neil Young, skilful, scoring lots of goals but not doing much running back to cover. He described me as an amateur Colin Bell because I did all the running for both of us, that was as good a compliment as I was ever likely to get. We did win the University five-a-side league but we were probably helped by having Norge in the team, a Norwegian International goalkeeper.

During this period I only saw two attacking midfielders who could compare with Bell. Gunter Netzer was the West German equivalent and when I watched them beat England at Wembley in1972, it was Netzer who was the most effective player on the field eclipsing both Bell and Beckenbauer. This was mainly because Alan Ball and Martin Peters were playing alongside Bell and none of them provided the defensive cover that was necessary. Netzer's hard running and silky skills were the damage that saw the end of Alf Ramsey.

Similarly, I watched Sheffield United's Tony Currie demoralise other teams on several occasions with the skill and intelligence of Bell and considerable razzmatazz but on some days he did not turn up. Watching Bell play against Manchester United was always enjoyable. United had the superstars: Best, Charlton and Law but Bell could do the things that it took the three of them to provide for United. And Bell never sought nor wallowed in the praise that was lavished on the Manchester United trio, his class was unremitting and underplayed.

It has been heartening to hear how much respect he earned at Manchester City and in the wider world of football. His standing as a complete footballer has remained and his reputation cemented by his humble manner and his dedication to helping others. 

Liverpool 0-0 Stoke City

Just one of those days

Gregor had got tickets for the Liverpool- Stoke game at Anfield for my birthday present. This was before the game became sandwiched between the Champions League semi-final games against Roma. Anfield has been transformed by the new Main stand with the public realm surrounding the stadium encouraging a happy atmosphere as a phalanx of fans from all over the world gathered to watch their team.

Last time I was at Anfield was in 1973 to watch an Inter City Fairs cup match against Spurs, Liverpool won 1-0 and we drove back to Glasgow overnight in the days before the M74 was built. I had spent two years as a fairly regular spectator at Anfield whilst at University. It was during a period when both Liverpool and Everton were dominating the game. Everton had the school of science midfield with Kendall, Harvey and Ball whilst Liverpool were at the start of their two decades of dominance. Kendall had been a Preston North End player and the youngest cup finalist in 1964. Liverpool also had an old school friend Brian Hall as well as Peter Thomson, a winger who also had played for Preston North End before transferring to the reds.

Everton won the league for the seventh time in 1970 to equal Liverpool, Arsenal and Manchester United on seven titles in the first division. Liverpool were about to take over and they had won 18 titles by the end of 1980's. It was easy to see how with Ray Clemence, Tommy Smith, Emlyn Hughes, Ian Callaghan, Steve Heighway and John Toshack providing ruthlessness and power to add to the skill of the Preston lads.

Liverpool were wonderful to watch in the 1970's with a hard pressing game that Klopp has revived. The crowd always combined raw passion with humour, as when they gave Gary Sprake a rousing reception every year after a game when he threw the ball into his own net. During most games, at least one spectator would be passed down over the heads of the Kop crowd to the St John's Ambulance. There was always respect and applause for good play from opposition players. It was so different from what I witnessed at other grounds at the time from Hillsborough to Old Trafford to Ibrox.

Despite the wonderful season that Liverpool had been having, this was not a game to relish. Stoke are deep into a relegation battle and decided to snuff out Mo Salah by any means possible and in that sense, Erik Pieters did a good job. But Liverpool were playing well within themselves, saving energy and avoiding injuries before the second leg with Roma. The crowd were in fine voice but even they realised that this was not going to be a classic and the game eventually petered out. Alexander-Arnold was completely at sea in a midfield role, Moreno gave his usual reckless performance, Henderson reverted to square passing and Ings showed that he lacks the pace to play in this team. Even the ever reliable Roberto Firmino was not his usual dynamic self.

Nevetheless we had enjoyed the atmosphere, we bumped into the programme editor who took a photo of me standing next to Shankley's statue and, as we were leaving, we were highly amused that the nearby Chinese takeaway was titled 'Wok On'.

Kick off looking towards the Kop end

Mo Salah about to take free kick

The massive new Main Stand

Vanquishing the Wembley Wobbles: PNE promotion

May 24, 2015. Play off Final: PNE v Swindon Town

Lugubrious Lawro gives away his sponsored drink

The line ups

Manager in excelsis celebrates third goal

Team spirit was indubitable 

Nathan Byrne of Swindon, the best player on the park

Beckford, 4 - 0

The Wembley arch complete with Middlesborough kit buried in the steelwork

Well that was a surprise, I have attended a cup final and a couple of play off finals at Wembley and the Millennium stadium over the last 50 years and never seen Preston North End win. I was in London on the weekend of the Division 1 play off final and, after failing to get a ticket from Deepdale because the post would not arrive in time, I decided to take a risk and go Wembley in the hope of buying a ticket and, if not, maybe finding someone with a spare ticket to sell. It worked perfectly. I was able to buy a good seat with a 50% discount for being a pensioner. I have never had such a good seat just a couple of rows in front of Mark Lawrenson, who proved his genuine credentials by sitting with the Preston punters rather than along with the pundits.

There was an expectancy that this might be the occasion when PNE broke their duck of failing in 9 consecutive play offs since they were introduced in 1987. Simon Grayson, the manager, has a good track record of winning play off finals with his previous clubs and seemed to have created a strong team ethos. It was my first visit to the new Wembley and I was quite impressed with the stadium and the organisation of the event. The only downside was the paucity of decent beers, Carlsberg seem to have that wrapped up that franchise with Coca Cola and Walker's crisps completing the stranglehold over captive supporters. It was not hard to resist these blandishments before the start of the game.

I had a seat next to a Chelsea hospital veteran, resplendent in his bright red coat. It made me nervous that the cameras may pick him out as a part of the crowd backdrop for TV. He had lived in Preston until a year ago but qualified as a Chelsea pensioner by virtue of his army background and lack of dependent family. He told me that the hospital was a great institution that treated him like minor royalty and gained him access to all the big events in London from the flower show to trooping the colour and VE day celebrations. His knowledge of football was encyclopaedic and he even had the temerity to instruct the youthful drunken fans in front of us to sit down. " We're just singing" they retorted, at which he told them "I can hear that but I can see bugger all".

Preston were the more clinical team with a tight discipline and robust defence. After eleven minutes we were two up and 'going up' according to the massed Preston fans. They were pogo dancing and chanting whilst the Swindon's fans, like their team, seemed demoralised. Nevertheless their winger Nathan Byrne was the best player on the park. At half-time and 3 - 0 up, the atmosphere was electric in the concourse. I treated myself to a beer when I found a real ale bar that sold Marston's IPA and I soaked up the sheer exuberance of the North End supporters whilst seeking out my nephew.

When Beckford scored his third and Preston's fourth goal halfway through the second half it was all over bar the shouting/singing/dancing/clapping/drinking. I have not known the Preston fans to be so animated since Tom Finney retired in 1960. And with every reason, it was not just a deserved victory but the highest winning margin since the play offs began.

I was amused that Swindon Town were sponsored by 'Imagine Cruising', a Swindon based tour operator. I suspect most Swindon fans must have wished they had gone cruising instead of travelling to Wembley. Meanwhile Preston were sponsored by Virgin Trains and on the day of the final they were unable to offer any Virgin Trains owing to track works they claimed. It confirmed my long held belief that corporate sponsorship is a form of customer abuse.

Fair weather fan