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As a Gooner who has 4 players playing for France I dont like the anti Galic sentiments often expressed in England however I was tickled by the following article from the Guardians 'The Fiver' this was published prior to the game against South Africa.

France's Brave Patrice Evra. Photograph: Franck Fife/AFP/Getty Images

The Fiver has always been fascinated by the French. Their air of fag-smoking existential mystery. Their cheeses. Their sixth form day-trip resorts brimming with flick-knives and CS gas. Their Kicker shoes, still unfashionable after all these years. And of course, their high-faluting philosophical bent, that production line of Left-Bank-lurking, cognac-quaffing, teenage-girl-seducing intellectual heavyweights. Sartre, Gainsbourg, Houllier, Clouseau: the list goes on. And to that number can now be added the current World Cup squad who, it seems, have spent the last two weeks conducting a series of experiments into the essential Descartian reality of being at the Fifa World Cup 2010.

So far Raymond Domenech's seekers have established an unprecedented dualism, managing to be at the World Cup without actually being at the World Cup. France turned up in South Africa three weeks ago. But at the same time France have also failed to "turn up". Nicolas Anelka has gone home because he was unhappy. But, in at least one vital sense, Nicolas Anelka was never there in the first place. Is the basic notion of Nicolas Anelka being "unhappy" robust in itself? Can a man who appears at all times to be saturated with unshakeable gloom ever really be "happy" in the first place? If Nicolas Anelka is unhappy on a long-haul flight back to Western Europe and no members of the media are there to register his sullen facial expression and sagging beanie hat, does it really count?

And finally, if Domenech says some of his players may effectively boycott today's final Group A match against South Africa - as he has in this morning's papers - does this actually mean anything given that most of them have already spent the last two weeks doing nothing but shrug and amble about?

It is undoubtedly a fascinating move - led mainly by the skipper, France's Brave Patrice Evra, William Gallas, geriatric substitute Thierry Henry and scuttling wing-disappointment Franck Ribery - and one for which Domenech has already shown his appreciation, describing his players as "imbecilic", which probably means "groundbreaking" in French. The French sports minister, Roselyne Bachelot, has also had her say on the threat of strike action. "I told the players they had tarnished the image of France," Bachelot applauded last night, repeatedly beeping the horn of her small, off-white souped-up Peugeot van. "It is a moral disaster for French football."

And also, lest we forget, a significant moment for Irish football, deprived of the chance to conduct its own philosophical experiments into going home from a World Cup before you've even turned up by some sort of funny business in Paris last November. But at least, the Fiver supposes - as all eight of France's remaining footballers shamble out against South Africa this afternoon the people of Republic O'Ireland might be able to take some solace from the quite spectacular job France have done in their place.

For some balance this is equally amusing;

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

It is morning. The England squad wake up at the hour chosen by their leader and gather together for breakfast at the Royal Bafokeng Sports Complex, where they are astonished to find something missing from the buffet table. The full cereal selection is present and correct. There is bread, and toast, and yoghurt in a variety of flavours. On the hotplates sausages sizzle, bacon bubbles and soggy hot tomatoes sit sadly, untouched, unloved, weeping hot tomato juice from their gaping tomato wounds. But where are the eggs?

Lamps looks for the eggs. There are no eggs.

Wazza looks for the eggs. There are no eggs.

Jamo tries to find the eggs. There are no eggs.

Crouchy find the eggs. They are all over England's Brave and Loyal John Terry's face. EBALJT's face is so resoundingly egged, it is more egg than footballer. It is a footballer omelette. Some of the England squad look at their deposed captain and get confused. They think it's all pavlova.

EBALJT, the team's captain and leader if not officially then at least inside his own cloud-filled head, "I am a leader on the training ground, on the pitch and in the hotel, I was born to do this" etc etc is a humbled man. His plans are scrambled, his revolution over easy. He set up a clear-the-air meeting on Sunday where "the lads" would "do the best for England", but found that the only thing that became clear was his own place in the squad hierarchy some way from the top. As it turned out, the only voice heard at the meeting had an Italian accent. So badly did the meeting go for our trileonine hero, he had to call a journalist actually phone one up to say sorry. "It was never my intention to upset the manager or the players and if I did upset anyone, I apologise," he crumbled exclusively to another-paper-we-won't-mention-because-why-should-we-it-wasn't-us. "I have told the manager he has my total support."

And so Capello's reign of terror continues unsquashed, his power strengthened, his authority absolute.

For one more day, at least.

England's Brave And Loyal John Terry - with egg all over his face - would you prefer to slap or punch ?