DANCERS, CLOGGERS AND DREAMERS

So that`s that then. South Africa 2010 is over and done with and already I`m looking forward to Brazil 2014 for in truth the World Cup just ended has been one of the most disappointing I can recall. I was disappointed by a number of other things that stood out for me. The absence of goal line technology; the drone of the vuvuzelas; the blatant Suarez handball that denied Ghana a place in the semi-finals (time to introduce penalty goals for such clear cheating?); the underperforming Messi, Torres, Kaka and others from whom perhaps too much was expected; the tv overkill and the bandwagon of FIFA hangers-on. But the biggest disappointment must surely have been the Final itself. The result was the right one with the Spanish dancers, their midfield pirouettes and paso dobles, overcoming the stifling crudity of the Dutch cloggers, but the game, like the tournament itself, will perhaps be remembered more for all the wrong reasons.

And so perhaps in an effort to put South Africa 2010 behind me and move on, my picture shows Rio de Janeiro and captures the belief that Brazil in 2014 will be a marked improvement on what we have just lived through. The home of beautiful football, of Pele, Tostao, Garrincha, Socrates, Carlos Alberto and all the sublime coreography that only Brazil can produce, must surely be something to look forward to.

At a different end of the football spectrum, near neighbour Scott Wagstaff `penned` a new contract a few days ago, which will keep him at Charlton for another two years. His new contract seems to have been welcomed by the afficionados on the Charlton Life fans forum ("live, love, laugh and be happy") and all of us in our football mad street wish nothing but the best for Scott as his career unfolds in his highly competitive chosen profession. He has established himself as a `hard working wideman,` a `pacy flanker` and one whose blistering pace can take him beyond the last defender to cut the ball back from the by-line for onrushing strikers to bury the ball beyond the despairing clutches of opposing custodians.

And who can tell where he and we might all be in four years time? The game will have been changed by financial reality, changes to the laws, the development of emerging football nations and another set of dancers and cloggers competing for their own versions of supremacy. As for England, the collective prospects aren`t good - too much vested interest, too much talking, not enough doing, too much money sloshing around in the wrong pockets, too much expectation, not enough change - but maybe, just maybe, a quiet, unassuming, gifted, hard working, pacy flanker might emerge in time to savour the delights of Copacabana and bring yet more pride and joy to a football mad street in a small village in deepest Kent. Football, like life, can sometimes be a nightmare - I should know, I`m a Saints fan - but it is also about dreams, which should never be allowed to die.