Big in Japan but this Club Cup is a farce

YOU know, it’s all too easy for cynics to mock this World Club Cup.

Fun, too. It couldn’t be more of a Mickey Mouse cup if it had big black ears for handles and was regularly seen out and about with Minnie. (She being the metaphorical Carling Cup, presumably)

Still, Fergie now has his cut out ‘n’ keep excuse card ready: any 2009 shortfall will be blamed on Japan, dodgy sushi and Sepp Blatter. Treble sakis all round!

I must confess I’m not accompanying the lads on their jaunt, since the pound sterling I earn my living in now only stretches to a day-return ferry to Dublin.

However my colleague, the Red Issue editor, is going, and if he has any insider goodies to report I shall bring them to you next week.

Fergie is quite right, of course, that we would all find it rather nice to be able to call ourselves world champions but we are clearly not going to lose any sleep over any Brazil 2000-style reverses.

It’s odd that the football world still hasn’t got its act together on a proper world club tournament, given that Europe’s premier competition has been going for more than 50 years.

The impressive rise of African club football has presented a golden opportunity to run something decent in future, perhaps a 16 club event, like an old 60s or 70s World Cup, with four each from Europe, the Americas, Africa and the Rest of The World.

I don’t know enough about FIFA politics to understand why this hasn’t happened yet though I assume it is a fear of the World Cup itself being somewhat cannibalised.

But let us be clear: this current hotchpotch is a bit of a farce, and somehow manages to be even less impressive than the old Inter-Continental Trophy that at least temporarily meant something in the 60s before the South Americans booted it into touch.

Such Latin practices are in the news again, of course, after Ronaldo’s exploits at White Hart Lane. As I write, all attention is focused on his kick at Dawson, although in applying my usual rules of good conduct, I thought his handball (or, in particular, his immediate protestation of innocence) was worse, morally speaking.

Moreover we have had the Rooney Stamp Affair hanging over us, which Fergie suggested during his epic pressroom rant last week was solely due to the tabloids phoning up UEFA HQ to incite mischief.

Actually, he may have a point here: this is just the sort of thing an enterprising Brit journalist would do.

But then, why would they need to resort to that? Because after previous unjustified rants, Fergie has virtually cut off all relations with the Manchester pack journos and declared “you won’t be getting any more from me in future.”

Several of us pointed out at the time that this would do no good, and so it has apparently proved. Fergie needs to remember the old line that “the devil makes work for idle hands” — so it’d be better for the club if the Red Devils spoon-fed those hands with something they can get to grips with.

After all, what might they turn their idle attention to next? Perhaps, for example, they will look at Fergie’s recent cheerful declarations about having bets on Chelsea and Liverpool matches, or wagering a hefty whack on Berbatov finishing top scorer. For the slight problem there is that the FA ban all managers and players from any bets involving competitions in which they are participants. Oops. There you go, presspack: one for free there. Run along and play.

In theory United will be playing to be Kings Of The Universe, or whatever the medals say on the flipside of Donald Duck’s head, on Sunday.

If you are therefore in need of a match and are in Manchester, why not join FC United at Gigg Lane for the Scouse crunch with Marine FC? Red Issue website users are match sponsors and all Irish readers will receive either a five pound note (good for one box of matches back home), a pint, or a hearty welcome.

We’ll let you know which when we see you.

* By Richard Kurt, whose classic ‘Red Army Years’ is only available via [e-mail]