Hope for a Chives fairytale

Last month, Henrietta Knight masterminded the stunning second Gold Cup victory of Best Mate but she and her husband Terry Biddlecome were equally thrilled with the run of Chives, who led Best Mate until the top of the hill. He faded to finish seventh with jockey Richard Guest not giving him a hard time and looked a National horse all over.

Guest will be on board Chives once again, having received special dispensation from the Jockey Club to ride against horses that he trains himself (Red Marauder, Red Striker and possibly Red Ark).

Chives is owned by Trevor Hemmings, who is a jump-racing fanatic so enthusiastic about winning the National that he bought Young Kenny and then Beau with that job in mind.. Beau managed to pass the post in front but without Carl Llewellyn, whom he had unseated at the 14th fence when travelling best of all.

Hemmings has suffered serious setbacks with his horses, losing Young Kenny at Haydock and The Last Fling at Aintree but his passion remains undimmed and there would be few owners who would appreciate or deserve the victory more than him.

I fell in love with Chives in the Paddock at Cheltenham and would not be surprised if he finally fulfilled the Hemmings dream to pull off a rare Gold Cup-Grand National double for his trainer.

Jordan's the real big-time Charlie at the Palace

Having read this week's reports in Standard Sport of the comments from Crystal Palace chairman Simon Jordan, I cannot help but feel he has misidentified the "big-time Charlie" at Selhurst Park.

Jordan comes into chairmanship with the attitude that because he has paid millions of pounds for the privilege of owning a football club, he has the right to sound and act like a wide boy throwing his weight around.

Rather like owners who come into horseracing expecting an automatic profit, as if it is their Godgiven-right to make money out of the sport, there are those amongst the current crop of football chairmen who seem to be in it just to impress their mates and make themselves feel important.

Even if Jordan had invested £300 million, success would not be guaranteed. If he wanted that, he should have left his money in the bank.

It's sport - the whole point is that results cannot be preordained or predicted. He should have worked that out before he signed the big fat cheque or opened his mouth.

Hats off to Sven for his boldness

So Sven can breathe again. Finally the ice cool, conservative one decides to be bold, playing Wayne Rooney from the start, replacing the injured Michael Owen (who seemed dangerously incapable of staying on his feed) with a relatively out-of-form Darius Vassell and the gamble pays off. Hats off to bravery, to invention and to a bit of inspiration.

Rooney was outstanding and seemed to propel his teammates on to another plane - even David James was superb. Rooney may be, gruff, monosyllabic but boy, can he play football. He displayed a presence on the pitch and an ability to control the pace of the game far beyond his years and was instinctively looking for a chance on goal when others were running around like headless chickens.

Watching in a pub on Merseyside, I was acutely aware of any movement that Rooney made because the whole place erupted every time he touched the ball. He fully deserved the standing ovation he received on leaving the pitch and generated comparisons with a young Paul Gascoigne. One can only hope that his career is not truncated by alcohol and ill discipline.

Paul Scholes made opportunities aplenty and Rio Ferdinand nearly scored the opening goal with his bottom, which would have been a moment to savour. Admittedly, had England not finally got the better of a Turkish goalkeeper with two black eyes and his neck in a brace, serious questions (such as, does that hair-band hurt Beckham when he heads the ball?) would have been asked.

Eriksson has vowed not to change his style of management but on the pitch at least, the fervour seemed patently more intense. He may talk a serene game but his players, for once, devoted themselves to the cause as if it really mattered which, of course, it did.