Michael Carrick risks an untimely spell in the ‘crisis’ box seat

Following the conclusion of this weekend’s round of Premier League fixtures, football fans have what promises to be an exceptionally long, uninspiring and largely inconsequential international break to endure. In most parts of the world, various nations have nothing more exciting than friendlies scheduled. In Europe, it’s the return of the Nations League.

A competition apparently conceived for no other reason than to allow Cristiano Ronaldo to spuriously claim he has won two major international trophies, this Uefa wheeze is about to kick off for the fifth time. Almost unique among tournaments that have enjoyed such longevity, its format remains fairly baffling to many of those who will actually be playing in it and all but the keenest students of the game.

In truth, hardly anyone cares about the Nations League and quite literally nobody gives two hoots about its opening games. I met Ludek Miklosko once. In fact, shaking my hand was one of the first things he had to endure after signing for West Ham in the summer of 1990. (The history books say he signed earlier, but he wasn’t officially unveiled until the summer.) I was working in the club shop at Upton Park (a cabin by the gates).

He seemed baffled that now he was finally here and had escaped the communist regime, he was being introduced to a child as ‘our new goalkeeper’. He was very nice about it, though; I showed him the new kit, and he went on to meet the groundsman and have a look at the pitch. My lasting memory was...

Read the original report at The Guardian.