So there’ll be no record-breaking 4th World Cup for Becks, thus denying himself a place in sporting history and his wife the chance of more paparazzi attention for her garish outfits and skeletal figure in SA this summer.
An over-the-hill, bit-time player who turns slower than a combine harvester he may be these days but it’s still a sad end for a player whose off-field celebrity often obscured the fact that at his peak he was one of the finest midfielders in the world and blessed with a sweeter right foot than any English player since Bobby Charlton.
Will he return to the US and rage against the dying of the light in the mediocre MSL? One would hope not. It’s one thing slumming it with Yank riff-raff when you’ve got international action and AC Milan as an escape route to look forward to, now that’s gone retirement seems more graceful.
Anyway the king is dead, long live king Wayne (not John Wayne).