Beckham beneath the hype

If you buy that version of events, then Beckham is easy. Outrageously handsome. A fashion maven. A star whose best party tricks – deliciously curled free-kicks, pinpoint crosses conjured up out of nothing – seemed designed for highlight reels, but also one whose ultimate achievements did not match the incessant hype that accompanied him.

While it's a parallel many are pushing, there are obviously flaws, not least because in many ways Beckham was an overachiever too. He took a skillset with two real outstanding attributes – an exceptional range of passing and superb stamina over middle distances – and completed it with maniacal application and professionalism.

The mere fact he's retiring now, a few weeks after his 38th birthday, offers a hint of where his footballing career belongs. Paris Saint-Germain may have been something of a PR stunt, but he still made 13 appearances in three-and-a-half months for a side with a huge squad battling for the Ligue 1 title.

Before that, he turned in arguably his two best seasons in Major League Soccer, helping LA Galaxy win the title and earning a Player of the Year award. Giggle all you like about MLS, but this was a 36-year-old man playing in central midfield in a league still ruled by athletic prowess. The fact that he could keep up at that age is telling. Especially when he really didn't need to.

At both Real Madrid and AC Milan he set about proving the naysayers wrong, and succeeded. They thought they were getting a superstar because that was the packaging. Instead, what they got was a very useful cog-in-a-machine capable of the odd game-changing moment (as most good professionals are). At both clubs, the pattern was the same. Derision at the "vanity purchase", pseudo financial journalism about his "economic impact" and then the realisation Beckham was useful. He worked his rear end off, rarely made mistakes, was a great team-mate, and – eventually – was loved everywhere he went.

Even at Manchester United, when he was in his prime as a player, if you go by ability and impact he was arguably the team's fourth-best midfielder after Roy Keane, Paul Scholes and Ryan Giggs. And yet, that didn't matter. As other-worldly and celebrity-infused as his off-pitch persona was, once he crossed the white line he was the sterling yeoman everyman who was very difficult to dislike.

But if praise for his work-rate and right foot was always forthcoming in football circles, his adaptability is sometimes overlooked and that deserves to be singled out. It's not just the fact you can count on one two fingers the number of players who have gone abroad and been successful in the past decade, the other being Steve McManaman.

It's the way Beckham adapted to four different and very distinct non-English cities: Milan, Madrid, Paris and LA. And, by all accounts, LA really was another planet. He found himself staying in three-star airport hotels and playing with guys making £9000 a year who bunked together three-to-a-room.

Grant Wahl's book The Beckham Experiment tells the story of the Galaxy players going out for a meal after an away win. The bill for the party of 20 or so came to around $1000 including tip. Beckham apparently at first didn't realise the club wasn't going to pay for dinner.

When he was told the players had to pay, he pulled out a crisp $50 note and put it on the table. Landon Donovan, the veteran US midfielder who, at £500,000 a season was the Galaxy's second highest-paid player (but, obviously earning a fraction of Beckham's wage) took him aside and explained the situation: as the only ones who were making six figures, they were expected to pay for their team-mates too. That was early in his stint in LA and, by all accounts, he learned his lesson.

Sociologists and "cultural studies" types will continue to have a field day on Beckham. But the football chapter is over and it leaves him among the best of his generation. God may have made him handsome. His handlers (and maybe his wife) may have packaged him into a celebrity. But it was Beckham who turned himself into a top-notch footballer, maximising his gifts and minimising his weaknesses.

If he looked like either Neville, we'd be far more ready to celebrate his football achievements.

We've been here before. Having over- seen the most successful period in his club's history (at the time), Roberto Mancini is removed from his post amid backbiting, infighting and accusations that he didn't get on with anyone.

What happened at Manchester City last week was almost a re-run of events at Inter, where he won three league titles and two Italian Cups. The difference? The bulk of the City fans adore him and were incensed at the way he was shown the door. Inter supporters were decidedly more split at the time and soon forgot him amid the Jose Mourinho love-in that followed.

The popular explanation is that Mancini was dumped for three reasons. The team did not progress as far as the owners had hoped, he didn't fit into their vision of a Moss Side Barcelona and he had a distant, prickly personality that did not endear him to some of the staff and senior players.

Not much argument with the first indictment, but the second is somewhat spurious: Mancini played a variety of systems and styles over the years, adapting to what he thinks is best at the time. For a club like City, a bit of pragmatism would not be a bad thing.

The third has some substance, though you wonder why chickens only seem to come home to roost when things go badly. Mancini does have a somewhat introverted personality. Having been one of the greatest players of his generation, he has a sense that superstars must deliver and he is not shy about ranting to hold them to account. Evidently some didn't like that. But, just as evident, a manager's job isn't to educate people, it's to find the best way for his squad to produce. Clearly, for some, he needed more carrot and less stick.