With the exception of David Beckham, I cannot think of any British professional footballer who would actively want to play in the Olympics. Which is just one of the reasons why the latest row about the composition of the British football team is the most pointless argument I’ve heard in a long time. Football should not be in the Olympics, it’s as simple as that.If the Olympics is not the pinnacle of any sportsman or sportswoman’s ambitions, then their sport shouldn’t be included. And that goes for tennis players and road cyclists.
Becks has been pretty much an exhibition player for many years, so he’ll enjoy one last day in the sunshine in 2012. But for any Premier League player, the Olympics will be held in the crucial final two weeks of pre-season. And while the rest of the nation may be obsessed with London 2012, you can be damned sure it will not be registering on the radar of Sir Alex Ferguson, Arsene Wenger or Andre Villas-Boas (on the outside chance that the new Chelsea boss is still in a job by next summer). England will have just played in the European Championship finals and their senior players will have barely got back from a brief holiday by the time the Olympics kicks off in late July.
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Weird
So in all likelihood, there will be a huge raft of withdrawals. Then there’s the fact all Olympic teams are a weird hotchpotch – 15 of the 18-man squad must be under 23, with three over-aged players allowed. So it’s kind of a youth tournament, but not really. Then we come to the crux of last week’s row – the fact that the Scottish, Welsh and Northern Irish FAs do not want their players to play under the GB banner because it might compromise their future independence. To which the obvious question is, how many of them would make the team anyway? Gareth Bale and Aaron Ramsey possibly, Darren Fletcher as a holding midfielder, at a push – but that’s about it.
I would not have been bothered about taking part in the Olympics if it had been a possibility in my playing days. But at least there would have been some genuine intrigue – and a real novelty factor – about the make-up of a Great Britain team. In 1964, would you have gone for Denis Law or myself? Danny Blanchflower or Bobby Moore? Dave Mackay or John Charles? Bobby Charlton or Jim Baxter? By 1968, Pat Jennings or Gordon Banks?
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Arguing
George Best would have been a shoo-in but after him, you’d have been spoilt for choice. Back then, it really would have been worth arguing about because there was no doubt that the other three home nations boasted some of the best players in the world. As it is now, you’d be better off opting for a quiet life and leaving the Scots, Welsh and Irish to enjoy their independence. Let’s face it, as an Englishman, I’m just as keen to preserve our independence from that lot, as they are to steer clear of our control.
At the risk of sounding a bit ‘bah humbug’ about the whole thing, I have to admit that I’m pretty underwhelmed by the prospect of the Olympics. I was never keen on running – either watching it or indulging in it over training. Sprinting 20 yards into the penalty box was as much as I was ever interested in. And as for swimming, what’s the point of that? You can’t see who’s who and you can rarely tell who’s touched the end first. All it’s meant to me has been hell on the M25 thanks to endless Olympic-related roadworks for the last three or four years. It’s certain to be chaos on the road and rail networks. If any spectator does manage to get to the Olympic Stadium and back in a day, they deserve a medal.