David Beckham...uneasy lies the head that wears the crown!

Becks, poetry in motion...

In the cold light of day, soccer great David Beckham has firmed up the notion (in these quarters anyway) that he has a realistic grip on the old astro turf!

For starters, Beckham's bold-faced confession that the Galaxy soccer studs are - "young and learning to play together" - reflects a make-no-bones-about-it attitude which is refreshing.

When asked about the probability of a winning season ahead, he responded with his pro feet firmly on the terra firma,

"At the end of the day, people expect us to win every game. That's not going to happen." Without any introspection, he concluded, "There's going to be great games and bad games. It's going to be one of those seasons."

Well, that scenario makes for an exciting guessing-game ahead for the fans!

Curiously, Staffordshire University has scheduled a course to focus on the strategy and style of the Beckham enigma. Will there be free tickets to home games to facilitate an up-close - and personal look-see - as part of the curriculum?

Students, don't expect too many theatrics on the sidelines at the games.

"I've always been a player that doesn't shout or scream," Becks proudly chirps.

No more head butting or fiery exchanges with the macho competition on the field?

Now that was worth the price of admission, Becks!

There appears to be a more mature man emerging beyond the fluffy ads he's prone to indulge in elsewhere in the intriguing corners of his high-profile career. Distractions, designed to just blow off steam?

For a handful of team members, he's a quick study-in-the-round.

Some whine that there is an "a sense of urgency" when they're up to play. Others snipe that they feel "under pressure". To win?

Ah, the voices of inexperience talkin'.

Keep your eye on the ball - and Becks - and maybe you'll learn somethin', kids!



Becks, the poser...

Beckham...tight undies, must go!

Well, the bloom appears to be off the rose, if you're to believe a sports writer - T.J. Simers - at the LA Times.

"The bloke is already a joke," he laments.

Of course, the writer is referring to media darling David Beckham, who's endless battle with injuries has sidelined the soccer icon once again.

To some, he's sort-of a clever thief who scoffed up millions on a promise to perform, but ultimately failed to deliver right out of the gate.

In this rant - albeit an entertaining one - sensitive conversations normally relegated to the mysterious male locker room have busted right out on Page 2 of the Sports Section.

Yes, Simers cautions Becks about the perils of sporting tight underpants.

Contrary to the soccer stud's misguided notion that snug undies will juice up his sperm - and subsequent plans for a new addition to the family - the sports columnist points out that according to Dr. Landrum Shettles, an expert in this - er - area,

"Tight-fitting underwear are not recommended for men trying to father a child because it may raise testes temperature to a point where it interferes with the sperm production."

Gosh, I thought every guy knew that!

It was hammered into me since I was a wee lad that to protect the family jewels, boxer shorts were the undergarment of choice; and, a loose non-restrictive white tightie was known to be a particularly stylish sexy favorite among the ladies.

In fact, I even recall being warned not to ride a bicycle long periods with the leather seat riding up the crotch because the practice might hinder sexual performance, as well.

Generally speaking, to most males, it's common sense: don't take any chances when it come to the man tool, get my drift?

But frankly, I was under the impression that Becks didn't wear any underwear at all.

I mean - look at all those photos of the Super Stud on the Internet naked - well almost!

And, he's rarely spied full-throttle.

In fact, in the one featured above, he doesn't appear to have any male organs to fuss over.

Oh, I get it, they've been carefully tucked up for the photo op?

Maybe - it was because the one shot of his **** on the World-Wide-Web - was a bit of a turn-off.

The unsightly skin gift-wrapping the end of his member was not appealing to the picky.

Moms and Dads take note: circumcision may not be the unkindest cut of all.

Ouch!

When asked, a couple of fans were anxious to spout their opinions about the whole Beckham brouhaha.

"He's all washed up," quipped one.

"Look at a couple of the leading football players in the National League," piped another. "A handful of 'em are in their late forties and still goin' strong."

And what of Beckham?

Well, what with all those injuries in his prime, they conjecture that the time may be ripe for Becks to bow out of the game.

He could try his hand at modelling.

Of course, he could segue into coaching, as well.

Then again, he could stride into the role of Sports Commentator.

There have been some questions about his spelling ability (Victoria's name is misspelled in the tattoo on his arm); but, he may be capable of reading copy from a monitor.

Heck, he's got the looks for the on-camera gig.

Don't know many women (or men) in TV land that would throw him out of bed for eating crackers.

Just fix him up in a classic navy blue jacket and a rep tie, being mindful to point him in the direction of the camera.

But, David - for heaven's sake - if you take the desk job remember that the bikini-style undies will have to go if you're pining to be with child with Posh soon.

Beckham Brawl...what soccer needs

I took in "Resurrecting the Champ" the other evening, but judging by the morning papers, if I was looking for some fight action, I should have scoffed up a ticket for the Galaxy match!

A lot of excited ink splashed across the sports pages this week, as reporters gave a blow-by-blow account of a brawl Beckham beckoned his way on the turf in Thursday night's game...

When Chivas midfielder Jesse Marsch delivered a nasty kick to Beck's midriff, team players on both sides sprang into action like a pack of pit bulls - snapping and barking at each other.

With a multi-million-dollar body at stake, the message was loud and clear: "Hands of the merchandise!"

Apparently Kevin Harmse threw a punch at Chivas defense man Alex Zotinca, who did a pay-back with a head butt.

A, what?

Tempers flared and it looked like there would be a bloodbath. But, cooler heads prevailed.

Later, Marsch apologized to Beckham.

The incident revved up things a thousand-fold, sent writers' jockstraps throbbing, and fans into a frenzy.

Some sports writers were hinting that hiring the media darling may have been a stunt.

Ah, suddenly the bells rang off in my head.

I flashed back to my grandmother's house in Oshawa in the days of my youth.

While I played in my imaginary world on a lazy Saturday afternoon, she'd be riveted to the edge of her seat - grimacing, wringing the life out of a cushion - and occasionally uttering expletives - as she reacted to her favorite wrestlers, like Gorgeous George, on the idiot box.

If a brawny, beefy brute - not in the round - snuck up behind a wrestler to give him some unexpected due - she'd been in there like a dirty shirt, crying out warnings at the screen: "George. Look out, that son-of-a-gun's behind you".

Yes, she was emotionally involved, caught up in the mad antics of the athletes, lost in their world for the day - in spite of the fact Poppa chided her amusingly from the sidelines about the reality of it all.

"Kitty, it's all an act, for heaven's sake."

She'd waved him off, glued to the set, nonetheless.

The gripping, exciting theatrics she gravitated to were a welcome release after all the chores were done each week.

I suddenly realize that maybe that's what soccer needs - a bunch of brutish, brawling, bad boys - cutting up on the field, to get the fans into the stadiums.

Especially if the league wants to give games like Football - an exciting, tackle sport - a run for their money.

In view of the press Beckham and the soccer league mustered up this week - I have a itchy-achy feeling inside that's what the game needs to give it a jump-start.

In "Resurrecting the Champ", a sports writer opines, "you're only as good as the athlete you cover".

In this instant case, it should read:

Behave badly on the field and you'll get all the coverage you want!

And, in the process, rustle up a truckload of ticket sales, too.

Play ball, and may the last bloodiest man still standing, win!