Going global is risky stuff

A player can save himself from over-exertion and a manager can make enough substitutions to spread the load but neither can prevent or avoid the dangerous tackle from a mediocre competitor eager to make his name.

A competitive match is just that, whether or not there is a trophy to be won at the end of it, and it is not the same as training. The opposition are not members of the same club and therefore have no interest in the long-term health of all those on the pitch.

Apart from the injury worries, there are the temptations of late nights in a foreign city far away from the wife and family. Despite modern day attentiveness to diet and fitness, footballers are not exactly renowned for their restraint when offered a night out on the town.

Rich boys on tour are the stuff of barmen's dreams and only an army of minders can keep a bunch of homesick lads in their hotel playing innocent tiddlywinks with their team-mates.

I could be wrong and, professionals that they are, the players could be benefiting physically and morally from their excursions abroad, promoting the game as they go and spreading cheer and goodwill among the masses. The clubs could be trying out crucial tactical moves away from the prying eyes of the British press, experimenting with new line-ups and blooding young players. Their overall aim could be the genuine promotion of football, of the UK and of the fine young men who represent them.

Then again, they could just be trying to flog a few million shirts.

Victory means there's a bad Moon on the rise

The southern hemisphere is ready to strike again. After the stunning exploits of the Australian-trained sprinter Choisir at Royal Ascot and at Newmarket, this Saturday could herald the arrival of South Africa as a major motorway on the road map of British racing.

Victory Moon caught many an expert eye as he stayed on to finish fifth in last month's Coral Eclipse at Sandown, giving every impression that the extra two furlongs of the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Diamond Stakes would suit him better.

He is taking on three different generations of the best middle-distance horses in Europe but success would be somewhat appropriate in a race sponsored by de Beers, the largest suppliers of South African-mined diamonds in the world.

I had the dubious pleasure of getting up close (too close, as it turned out) with Victory Moon earlier this week. He is a mightily imposing, handsome horse but "an aggressive bugger" according to his trainer Mike de Kock, who warned me that he could bite or kick.

I steered clear of the rear end but still came within inches of getting clocked on the head when he struck out with his front legs.

His pugnacious approach will come in handy on Saturday when he comes up against the Japan Cup and Eclipse winner Falbrav, the two Derby winners Kris Kin and Alamshar and, perhaps most dangerous of all, the Royal Ascot winner Nayef.

The shrewdies have taken 33-1 and 25-1 Victory Moon to make the first three and he is now as short as 10-1.

Watch him very closely because, take it from me, this is one mean monster of a horse.

Wild things miss the cut

Golfer Ian Poulter has been doing his best to promote strawberry ripple Mr Whippy ice-cream and in doing so, has got himself into hot water. His new spiral hairstyle, complete with an Arsenal-red streak in honour of the impending Premier League campaign, has not gone down well with golfing aficionados.

Rumours are circulating that Poulter may be fined, or even banned, for breaking the dress code. The European Tour states that "players shall present a neat appearance in both clothing and personal grooming."

With this in mind, surely the Tour officials are looking at the wrong suspect? If bad taste in hairstyles is a felony, one player has been breaking the rules for years. Not for outrageous trendsetting but for an outdated, outmoded, truly offensive mop. I refer to the mullet of John Daly. The Wild Thing should be outlawed for perpetuating a fashion that causes such disfiguration.

Alec's last word's too long

It's a long, drawn-out process, this retirement from international cricket lark. No longer the quiet, head-down approach until you suddenly notice that the selectors haven't called for a couple of months or years.

Now, the players decide when they've got enough caps in their cabinet and they also decide how long a notice they would like to serve out. Usually, it is at least one series.

Alec Stewart is a fine professional who has served his game and his country with enormous dignity. I begrudge him none of the effusive tributes sent his way, I merely regret he did not wait until the final Test against South Africa at The Oval before making his announcement.

Instead we will have a protracted period of mourning and a summer of selectors' soul searching as they seek out a replacement for the original smart Alec.