February 1st, 2008

9:28am Friday 1st February 2008

IT'S tempting to suggest that England rugby coach Brian Ashton is trying to curry favour with the royal family by selecting Zara Phillips' beefy boyfriend instead of the younger, more talented and better-looking Mathew Tait to face Wales on Saturday.

It will be up to Zara's beau, Mike Tindall, to sort out Charlotte Church's boyfriend, Gavin Henson, who must be grateful Tait has been denied the chance to avenge the theatrical bullying he had to suffer on his England debut at the hands of the perma-tanned poser.

Henson was widely tipped for rugby stardom at the time, but the insults heaped on him in this space have proved more accurate as he has earned more headlines for his behaviour off the field than on it.

This should have been Tait's time for revenge. But knowing Ashton's liking for Gloucester pair Tindall and Iain Balshaw it's no real surprise that Tait is not in the team. Given the shabby treatment he suffered after his debut, however, it is a disgrace that he's not even on the bench, especially as he can cover centre, wing and full back.

The fragile Balshaw has been almost permanently crocked since his dazzling introduction to the England team in 2001. So it is a big gamble to select him at full back, where Tait looked perfectly at home when switched for the final 25 minutes of the World Cup final.

That obviously hasn't done him any favours as Newcastle have been playing him there, with Toby Flood and Jamie Noon at centre, so now no-one's quite sure what Tait's best position is. I know I'd far rather see him at outside centre than Tindall, whose selection reflects Ashton's need for short-term security given that he has only a one-year contract.

It will be interesting to see whether it requires a healthy lead, or a deficit, for the coach to throw off the shackles and send on the Tonga-born former Bradford Bulls winger Lesley Vainikolo, who could prove to be the new Inga Tuigamala.

Hopefully there will be a point where Vainikolo runs straight through Henson, leaving him prostrate on the Twickenham turf. Now that really would be fun.

JUST when we thought the pantomime season was over we hear cries from the wonderful world of football: "Oh, no it isn't."

This week's unWise goings-on at Newcastle have made the club a laughing stock, certainly in the eyes of the national media, with the Sun running a front page headline saying Toon Barmy.

But the real hilarity came at Bramall Lane on Sunday when Manchester City were knocked out of the FA Cup by a balloon. It was one of several scattered in the penalty area by their own fans and so confused Michael Ball that, in his attempted clearance, he failed to make contact with either balloon or ball and Sheffield United promptly scored. You couldn't make it up.

Also laughable is Stewart Downing's agent threatening to sue the Middlesbrough chairman for his supposedly defamatory comments suggesting that the agent's actions might not be in the player's best interests.

It would seem obvious to any right-thinking person that an attempt is being made to unsettle Downing with dreams of even greater riches than £35,000-a-week.

But I'm sure the agent is a perfectly charming, witty and handsome gentleman who is merely doing his best for his client.

THE Australians are said to be shocked that Harbhajan Singh has been cleared of racially abusing Andrew Symonds after apparently calling him a monkey.

The Aussies claim it's a sign that India, being awash with TV money, now have all the power in Test cricket and they may well have a point.

But it should also encourage a serious bout of introspection as they question the repercussions, not to mention the ethics, of leading the world in sledging.

THE passing of an old teammate is always disturbing and I'll always fondly remember big Alan Johnson, who has died at 69, for his domination of an unlikely tenth-wicket stand with me in a cup tie at Swalwell in the mid-70s.

Darlington were supposed to be a cut above the Tynesiders, but we had been thoroughly outplayed and when Alan came in we were about 80 for nine, still needing around 70 off eight overs. Swalwell weren't aware that if they bowled at leg stump he would never lay bat on ball and as they kept giving him a bit of width outside off he kept blasting the ball into the trees over long-off.

Granted the picturesque ground - now abandoned to housing - was small but Alan kept clearing the boundary with ease. Sadly, there was no heroic finish as he came to me at the start of the last over, when we needed 13, and said: "You'll have to get them, my hamstring's gone." We were five short with three balls left when I was run out by a direct hit from third man going back for a second, and I've regretted ever since not leaving him on strike.