colchester, colchester or wolves (but definitely not spurs)

football >> my dad

when my old man talks about football i take note, he knows his stuff. this is the man who left his brother's wedding mid-ceremony to race to molineux to stand on the north bank (in his lilac flared suit) to catch the second half of his beloved wolverhampton wanderers versus everton in september 1971*. such dedication has led to a wealth of football knowledge filling his cigar and whisky stained brain; ask him who was rotherham's manager in 1983 and he'll tell you. test him with who won the world cup in 1972 and he'll immediately inform you there wasn't a world cup that year. so when my dad guided me into the wonderful world of football when i was five years old, he wisely advised me that people should only support a team that abides to these rules:

- the team of where you were born
- the team of where you grew up
- the team your dad supports

that left me with colchester, colchester or wolves. rebelling, i supported arsenal for a season or two - something to do with lee dixon's tanned thighs, a very peculiar time for a young boy. but over time my yoda-like father's wisdom took effect, that and the sorry realisation i'd never get a new nylon kit if i carried on cheering dixon et al. so as easy as kerry katona swaps bodily fluids, i switched my allegiances to the pride of the black country. for over two decades i've followed wolves through thick (steve bull's two million goals in the turner years, winning the 2003 play-offs, thrashing man utd 1-0, winning the 2009 championship, staying in the premier league last season), and thin (near closure, sir jack's millions wasted on crippled has-beens, seeing bolton or west brom repeatedly beat us in the play-off semi finals and relegation from the premier league despite the amazing free signing of steffen iversen in 2004!) and through these highs and lows i've been to a lot of games and taken in many an old rusty ground.

the money spent, the wet and cold tuesday evenings in january, the hours stuck in traffic jams evidence loyalty and have left a hopeful yet grounded football opinion. but it's all worth it in the end. the good times (premier league stability) might finally be returning to molineux, so in this sky sports led age when so few follow my father's model and now seek quick fix glories randomly supporting chelsea, man utd or spurs despite living hundreds of miles away, maybe it's time to take stock and think about who you should really be following. back my dad's methods and you'll find the success tastes sweeter, you might find yourself actually going to a game (who'd have thunk it?!) and your spurs winning the champions league theory won't be laughed out of your local boozer faster than kerry katona spreads her legs...

*my dad informs me it finished 1-1 if you were wondering

venire sull'inghilterra! (italian for "come on england!" - very roughly, cheers google)

world cup review >> england

fabio capello is loaded. fact. he earns a whopping £6 million a year, for overseeing about ten games a season. he picks up £500,000 a month to continually select a striker who has domestically scored less goals than the nigerian national keeper this season (the nigerian has 8, our lump of a forward heskey has 2), £115,384 a week to pick wright-phillips over adam johnson who he lost his place to at man city. £16,438 per day to continually ignore joe cole, the one player we have who is capable of unlocking the tightest of defences, £684 per hour to play gerrard, the most influential central midfielder in the world out of position on the left, £11.41 per minute to pick ledley king, a centre back with no cartilage remaining in his knee (yep, it's just bone on bone - ouch!), and 19p per second to blow on hair dye to stay looking 'fab'...

but before we turn on fabio capello, with his cute broken english, let’s remember we have probably the best manager in the world cup. tell a lie, actually the top dog is possibly the unofficial manager of north korea, kim jong-il whose conference call half-time team talks of "win or your family gets it" seem to get his repressed players fired up... i never said that by the way, before i face a firing squad.

in our £6 million a year man, we have a leader who oozes authority. he's been successful wherever he has been and perhaps half his problem is that he got us to the world cup with such relative ease that we seemed to all suddenly believe we were going to stroll through the tournament easier than a fox in an east london family home.

ok, so he's not perfect, some of his selections have left us all a little miffed (carragher?! - based on his apparent players in form policy, it should have been craddock!), but lets show some faith! this could still turn out to be amazing! in four weeks time he could be knighted for bringing home the custard covered arm cup. let’s for once ignore the ignorance of the daily mail et al and go mental for england and capello. wave your flags, paint your faces, get so drunk you forget robert green's next howler, shout at the tv, laugh, cry, but above all be grateful you're not north korean...