Too little to trouble ’Pool supporters

THAT was a weird column last week. All the politics left in and all the West Ham stuff left out. If this is a subtle hint from the paper they want me to take a job in Beirut, no thanks.

My head isn’t the prettiest but at least it’s in the right spot.

It isn’t the first time the Happy Hammers have been airbrushed off these pages. They’ll be developing a cockernee complex soon.

When Richard and Trizia ganged up on us on April I displayed my unerring inability to let anything rest. The win at Upton Park that same week was all but forgotten.

We (just about) beat them in one of the best cup finals ever, but Arena didn’t want anything on that. Shame, because I could use the money! I’d been asked for three Istanbul pieces in 2005, indicative of how far down the priority list the FA Cup has fallen.

Which is tough on Rafa, since he’d been accused of single-handedly wrecking it after the Burnley fiasco. He could have used a little credit for once.

So in a week of international torpor and transfer intrigue, how odd that West Ham should be the name on everyone’s lips thanks to Tevez and Mascherino.

Coming away from Cardiff in May I was naturally delighted we’d won. I also had to accept that the bane of modern football — the power and big money nestling in the sweaty palms of the chosen few — was alive and well.

I looked at their side and wondered what things would be like on an even keel. That team should have had Ferdinand, Defoe, Lampard, Cole and Carrick in it.

As good and as brave as we are, as heroic as Gerrard can be, I couldn’t help but feel we’d have lost such a match. So if for once something goes their way I’m delighted for them. The consensus though is that Upton Park is a mere way station en route to glitzier, richer destinations.

I laughed when Dr Evil (or Roman to his pals) somehow got mentioned. No doubt Trizia will be mounting a muscular defence elsewhere.

I like West Ham, we got on great with them in Cardiff, and one doesn’t like to burst the bubbles they’re forever blowing, but “transfer coup”? Come on. If this should actually turn out to be the first act of a super-rich benefactor then that’s troubling for the Reds as then, to quote The Godfather, they come after us.

It’s sad that the only way into football’s elite is seemingly through a billionaire’s benevolence. Back in 1960 there was a pathway to the top for Liverpool and indeed anyone else. It’s almost as if clubs like ours, having climbed the ladder, are desperate to draw it up after themselves.

It was amusing to watch the late, late deals in this transfer window. Or, in Arsenal and Chelsea’s case, the really, really early deals for the next one.

Did Benitez feel left out? We seemed to be sorted for once, but perhaps he couldn’t resist one more round of haggling. I know Kromkamp was poor at Sheffield, but this was a tad extreme. Having been welcomed on the ‘Anyone But Josemi’ ticket, he never looked anything more than a stopgap anyway.

There’d been talk of homesickness. Being Dutch, and presumably fluent in English, he may not have understood the locals! At the rate of one a year, with a barely perceptible rise in competence, we should have a suitable deputy for Finnan by 2028.

But Lucas Neill? Once more football turns a blind eye to murky morality in order to get what it wants. What this guy did to Carragher in 2003 (hardly ancient history) was as bad as anything Thatcher did to Mendes. He was so hated at Anfield that when Souness next took Blackburn there even the old wind-up merchant himself wouldn’t select him.

Perhaps it’s a good thing that football is losing these petty little hatreds. Money not only talks and swears it also acts as a bridge towards forgetfulness and forgiveness. Asked in May whether I knew Bellamy was coming I replied, “You’re joking, right?”

Once they’re wearing that rather fetching shade of crimson, appeasement and rationalisation take over.

This predilection for causing alarm and concern where none previously existed sparked memories of Houllier’s deals in 2002, when he (like Rafa) stood on the verge of greatness — which eventually turned out to be a precipice.

He turned down the chance of signing Anelka, was in effect turned down by Lee Bowyer — and eventually signed El Hadji Diouf. Just one of the three was bad enough to derail Houllier.

I’m not for a moment suggesting that Lucas Neill belongs in such ‘delightful’ company, but there was the potential for commotion, however slight.

So you guessed I’m twittering away because there’s no proper football to report on. I suppose the Irish did need a week’s break to face Germany, but England v Andorra? Liverpool got two weeks off, now they play seven games in 21 days. Then there’s another two weeks off. Madness.

This time last year Crouch was begging for a goal against anybody. Now even he looks sheepish about bagging a brace against a country whose population would fit into the Ataturk.

Surely it’s time for two separate divisions in Europe’s national competition and World Cup qualifiers? You sense the rich giants becoming angrier and angrier with this farce, but while the players sniff their ticket to superstardom clubs face an uphill battle to get their own way on this one.