Sorry, Gary, but we'll damned well boo if we want to

Ladies and gentlemen,

please stand for a

moment, draw in a

deep breath and do your

country a proud service

by letting out a loud and

almighty boo of derision.

The sustained rumbling of widespread

unhappiness is making a

return across the land; most notably,

it has to be said, at any stadium

where England happen to be making

an appearance right now. But a similar

phenomenon is taking place at

club grounds throughout the country.

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The peasants are truly revolting. No doubt you will have heard the displeasure ring out at Old Trafford last week when Steve McClaren's side lumbered to another dull, disorganised defeat.

More than 50,000 paying customers, including families who had surrendered a hundred pounds or more for the experience, had watched the cream of England's football talent, plucked from the richest League in the world, perform like absolute

strangers wearing their boots on the wrong feet.

They expressed their feelings on the matter. They booed as the whistle blew. They booed as the

players trudged off the pitch. And they booed again as the man in charge of the team headed towards another interview full of fixed grins

and ready-made excuses.

One report sniffed this cacophony of noise was "rather needless". Defender Gary Neville was equally quick to take offence. "It's easy to

boo England," he said. "That's expected. I'm very lucky that I play for a club where they are more

accommodating with the players and with performances. With England, it's always the same. You lose and then you get booed."

No Gary. Actually, it's a bit more complicated than that. England are booed because their

performances are a universe away from their perceived "star status".

They delight in all the trappings of showbiz and enjoy seeing their name up in lights, only to step out on stage and fluff their lines time and time again.

Besides, this is not the reaction of some ungrateful mob. It is a genuine articulation of pent-up frustration from some of the most patient consumers in the land. Frankly, it is more insulting for the likes of Neville to assume they should suffer in silence.

Sky-high ticket prices; the constant battles with useless public transport; the inconvenience of travelling to events scheduled at hours designed

to suit television planners not supporters; and the knowledge that everyone kicking a ball is earning more in a week than most of the audience

earn in a year, has made fans question the entire experience.

Being there is no longer enough. Blind support is no longer given as a right to either a club or a national team. All those taking out second mortgages to finance their season ticket (with restricted view) are seeking hard evidence that the sacrifice was justified.

There is now such a gulf between spectator and performer, it is that much harder to shrug and mutter "maybe next week" when the day ends in disappointment. They not only want to win, they want to be entertained too.

Besides, Neville needs a little history lesson here. I've been at Old Trafford many times when the team have been booed. I've even heard

outstanding professionals like Ryan Giggs get barracked.

But there is a simple reason why United are treated more kindly than England. They perform. They win trophies. They have players who look

like they know what they are doing and a manager who has a grip on events.

When Cristiano Ronaldo and Wayne Rooney are in full flight in a four-goal victory, that ticket is cheap at the price. Throw in home defeats

to Middlesbrough and Bolton and it's "Fergie Out" again.

Before his England debacle, McClaren admitted: "We've got to convince the public. Ever since the World Cup and the disappointment of that and ever since my appointment we've all had something to prove."

Absolutely right. Sadly, all he was able to prove was 50,000 people would have been better off staying at home in the warm - and they let him

know it.

If Neville is unhappy with the crowd reaction in football, perhaps he should trot out at Twickenham? Here, England were on their way to

the second successive victory in the Six Nations, and a comfortable one at that.

This was not a scenario even the most optimistic rugby follower dared to dream a month earlier.

With the clock counting down and the revitalised hero Jonny Wilkinson about to deliver the final nail to Italy's coffin with another penalty,

how did the flag-waving patriots of the RFU HQ react? They booed.

Yes, they let the players and management know they were seeking more than a routine win - they

wanted some fun too. Why not kick for touch, gamble on a lineout and a possible try; after all that's what they were paying for.

If this really signals a shift in attitude, I'm all for it. It's time we started demanding more for our money, starting with customer service.

Have you tried to buy a ticket lately? Ring some clubs and you are put on hold longer than Anthea

Turner's career. They make you feel like it's an inconvenience. Yet we're the ones paying!

The signs are good. The mood is changing. Road tolls are being opposed by the masses; air taxes are being fought via huge petitions, the

closure of hospitals, post offices, swimming pools and rising council taxes provoke noisier and noisier displays of dissent and protest.

Frankly, it's time for everyone to draw in a big breath and let out a resounding bloody boo.

SID WADDELL'S commentary gem of the week: Who else could order his takeaway live on air to

make sure he didn't miss any of the action? I want a pepperoni passion with extra mushrooms decorated with darts flights! he yelled.

Bonkers, but brilliant.

Glass houses, Steve?

Delighted to hear Steve Gibson, the Middlesbrough

chairman, demanding his Premiership rivals must

follow his club's example and champion the cause of English players.

I agree with him too. Of course, Gibson's words

would carry just a little more weight if Boro did

not have three Australians, a Portuguese, Nigerian, Argentinian, Austrian, Spaniard, Dutchman, Korean, Brazilian and German in the first-team squad the last time I looked.

Maybe, they are all English now.

Jury's in, Stan

Collymore was busy shouting he was ready to emerge from retirement and make his comeback at a Premiership club.

In fact, it was October 4 when the former Liverpool and Aston Villa striker said: "A

month from now I guarantee I will able to stand

side by side with any striker in the country

and my physique will be up there with any of

them.

"This time I am not going to self-destruct. I

know I can still be among the best."

Time's inexorable passage has taken us through the fourth of November, December, January and February, but Stanley has still to keep his pledge and "stand side by side" with the likes of Manchester United's Wayne Rooney or Didier Drogba of Chelsea.

No, he is too busy sharing tea and biscuits

with the revolting Jeffrey Archer in the BBC's courtroom reality show The Verdict.

And the jury's decision? Guilty of deception

and fraud, with sentence deferred pending psychological reports.

Who needs a spy in Leeds?

Industrial espionage is a threat to any big

business. So well done to Leeds United for uncovering a plot involving a "traitor" in their midst.

For those of you who missed this alleged

act of espionage, Elland Road manager

Dennis Wise claimed he had evidence that a

double agent was at work in his dressing room, undermining morale and betraying vital secrets to their opponents on Saturday, Crystal Palace.

As he exposed this footballing Kim Philby,

Wise warned: "It hurts a lot, but this

individual will never play for the club

again."

Incredibly, this column has obtained the secret dossier compiled by the Leeds mole and can reveal

the astonishing confidential information that

threatened to wreck Wise's carefully thought-out strategy.

The spy's damning revelations included:

• in Leeds are playing abysmally at the

moment and Palace would want shooting if they somehow lost.

• The new manager had taken the club

from second bottom to rock bottom in no time.

• His scientific tactical briefings are summed up by "just kick 'em!".

• Injuries meant it was anyone's guess what the make-up of the team would be, but the

spy said he would have a go if someone had a

fag packet and spare pen handy.

• The informer then rubbished the playing personnel, saying: "Look at the sh*t

we've got! We're stuck with them until the end of the season. So the first thing I've got to hope, is, please God, we get to the play-offs. If not, we bloody stay in the Championship and get rid of all the sh*t!'.'

Oh, my mistake. That wasn't the "spy". That was the chairman Ken Bates speaking to fans in an unguarded moment. You see? There is nothing like inside information.

• This probably contravenes a dozen

public order offences and countless FA guidelines, but you had to laugh at Manchester United on Saturday. When the South Korean,

Ji-Sung Park headed home the first goal against

Charlton, Old Trafford reverberated to the chant

of: "He shoots, he scores, he'll eat your labradors, Ji-Sung Park, Ji-Sung Park".

Apologies to all Labradors who may have been

offended by this item.

• What a furious little huff it was! Thierry Henry is certainly not going to win the Footballer of the Year award this season and, having seen him pout, sulk, dive quite pathetically and goad

Wigan goalkeeper Chris Kirkland for his admittedly

tedious timewasting after Arsenal scored on Sunday, I have to say it is no bad thing either.