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Tuesday 06 June 2000  Front Page 

FOOTBALL365's OPEN LETTER TO THE SULKING ENGLAND SKIPPER

[email protected]and we'll publish the best.


Keep up to date with the latest news on England and all the other countries competing in Euro 2000 by visiting

DEAR Alan,

WITH just seven days to go until your final flourish in international football, isn't it about time you cheered up and wound yourself up for one last shot at sainthood?


After a tumultuous second half to the season with Newcastle, you appeared to be back to your best, a roaming, rumbustious, destructive centre-forward who not only scored a huge number of goals but looked a threat whenever the ball went into the box.

But since pulling on the white shirt of England, you've turned the clock back nine months rather than four years. You now resemble the statuesque figure who epitomised all that was wrong with Ruud Gullit's Newcastle. Your post-match mutterings remain the same but your body language speaks a thousand words.

You don't look happy, son. You stand there with hands on hips, waiting for the perfect pass. You harangue your team-mates when it doesn't come, and continue to be conspicuous by your absence from celebrations when another player scores, especially a striking partner. More worryingly, you've stopped moving. No striker can get away with not moving - even when Duncan Ferguson does his Nelson's Column impression for the Toon, defenders win the battle.

But a sulking Shearer plays like a Sunday League striker, rooted to the spot, having a wrestling match with the centre-back but not pulling them out of position, not darting across the front of defenders, not peeling away to leave room for anyone else to come through.

Malta defender Brian Said couldn't believe his luck on Saturday. He called you "static" and "moaning", said that you complained about the service all the time and caused no problems. How's that feel?

And it is no coincidence that the goals have stopped. It's an ever-decreasing circle, Al: you get little service, you stop making runs, so when the ball does come in you are not there, and you stop scoring goals.

What's the matter, son? We all know England aren't much cop at the moment but there's no point in getting the hump about it. No-one will blame you if it all goes pear-shaped so long as you make an effort.

Since France 98, you've scored eight times in 14 games - a phenomenal record. Or so it seems. Of those goals, four were against Luxembourg, two were penalties, and two were in friendlies. You haven't scored in six games now and have got just one in a competitive game against anyone other than a bunch of "so-called part-timers" since the first minute of the qualifying programme nearly two years ago, in Sweden.

Having made your name as one of the greatest centre-forwards this country has ever seen by running your heart out for the cause, anticipating where the ball is going, getting there before defenders and keeping your head up whatever the score, why stop now? Your finishing is still top class, as 21 Premiership goals for a mediocre Newcastle shows. You are Kevin Keegan's favourite striker, the captain of your country, and you get to play in every game, even when most of the country thinks you shouldn't.

So cheer up, get your hands off your hips, get on your toes and look like the lethal striker you like the world to think you are. You could have six matches left in your international career which could end with you perched high on a pedestal, a footballing god. That would make it 66 caps, and to get back the goal-every-two-games record you were so proud of, you'll need to score five times. That should be enough for the golden boot, too.

Picture the scene: Alan Shearer, captain of England, European Champions 2000. Or you could end on a sour note, with a sour face to go with it. Alan, the decision is yours.


Best wishes,


Gavin Willacy and the staff at 365



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