Sven Goran Ericsson's side knew only a win would suffice if they were to keep in touch with Group 7 leaders Turkey, especially after only managing a 1-1 against lowly Macedonia in their last qualification game.

Despite England being 33-1 on favourites to win the tie, it was Liechtenstein who almost grabbed a shock lead in the Rheinpark Stadion when Fabio D'Elia headed a Thomas Beck free-kick narrowly wide after only three minutes.

Liechtenstein had another chance on the quarter hour as striker Mario Frick beat the offside trap but shot straight at goalkeeper David James, starting his first competitive match between the posts for England.

Liverpool striker David Owen settled his side's nerves on 28 minutes when he headed home a cross from clubmate Emile Heskey, who had been put clear down the right by Manchester United's David Beckham.

Heskey should have made it 2-0 three minutes later when put clear but the 25-year-old didn't trouble Peter Jehle in the Liechtenstein goal.

England started the second half in a much more confident manner and doubled their lead on 53 minutes when captain David Beckham fired in a trademark free kick off a post.

Ralph Loose's side, however, refused to crumble and could have pulled one back just before the final whistle when Martin Stocklasa crashed a shot off a post.

Time to put spotlight on football's dark arts
By Michael Parkinson  (Filed: 31/03/2003)

Let us have an Alternative Football Awards night when we celebrate what the lads are really good at, like diving, gobbing and abusing officials.

Winner of the Dying Swan Award for best entrechat and swoon while not wearing a frilly frock and leotards must go to Martin Keown in Arsenal's game with Roma.

It was a spectacular example of the art and while it did little for Martin's reputation as a hard man, it undoubtedly inspired hundreds of watching children to get in touch with their feminine side.

The Expectoration Award is another shoo-in. El Hadji Diouf's waterfall at Celtic Park was spectacular enough to get the player banned for a few games, which is just as well because no athlete can afford to lose that amount of fluid week in, week out.

El Hadji (his name means Sudden Shower in his native Senegal) will spend his suspension working with the Army in the event of a further strike by firemen when his ability to transfer copious amounts of fluid over a large area will be put to good use.

The Kop, ever ready to salute a hero, has already christened him "The Green Goddess".

One of the unfortunate side effects of the definite improvements we are seeing in diving techniques is the difficulty judges have in distinguishing between the genuine dive and a situation where a player has been fouled and is not faking.

I think I can offer help based on experience. One of the virtues of having watched the game for about 60 years is being able to recall moments from the past, which might have relevance at the present time.

So when it comes to seeking out malingerers - what Roy Keane (whom God preserve) calls "bluffers" (actually what Mr Keane actually calls them is "f****** bluffers") - my mind goes back to a time at Barnsley when we had a trainer with an infallible knack of separating the fake from the genuine.

It was in the days when trainers wore thick, knitted polo-neck sweaters and ran on to the field carrying a bladder full of water.

The bladder, in case you are a young person, is what used to go inside a football when they were made of leather.

This particular trainer also carried his teeth in his pocket and as he ran on to the field made great show of fitting them into his mouth. When he reached the injured player his method of assessing the injury was to bite the player's neck. The reaction provided the basis of his diagnosis.

It was only a matter of time before word got around and no one in the Barnsley team even dared think about faking an injury knowing the consequences.

One adverse effect was that players who were genuinely injured were not spared. I have seen strong men with broken limbs dragging themselves across the pitch to escape the teeth.

That apart, it's a good idea. Although first of all you would have to find someone who would willingly take a mouthful of Martin Keown, and that could be a problem.

---

Robert Pires allegedly told a French radio station he would be willing to stop playing as an anti-war protest.

When the media began sniffing, Arsenal understandably had kittens and Pires said that although he didn't support the war he wouldn't dream of not playing for the Gunners.

Did someone perhaps tell him the history of the team paying his wages?

It does, however, raise the interesting point of how players might become involved in the game apart from turning up and collecting their wages.

The Arsenal players were rightly incensed by the imbecilic racial abuse directed at the team by the morons who support Valencia. I had prayed, and maybe foolishly believed, we had heard the last of the monkey noises whenever a black player appeared on a ground.

I thought we had overcome that. I was dreaming. Even the discreet filter of television microphones could not prevent the abuse being heard loud and clear.

There is a problem whenever our teams play on the Continent, particularly in Spain. The goons who insult the black players do so knowing nothing will happen.

The talk is of Valencia being fined a few quid. A more apt punishment would be to close the ground to future games in European competitions.

It won't happen because in football whenever the choice is between money and doing the right thing there is only one winner. Maybe it's time for the players to become more assertive. They take the abuse, they have to stand there and be told they are monkeys and worse.

Why don't they walk off, refuse to play until their abusers are arrested and escorted from the ground? In what other walk of life are men expected to ply their trade while others are allowed to insult them in the vilest manner imaginable?

If Pires or any other footballer refused to play because of the war in Iraq they would become the issue, the centre of the story.

If they withdrew their labour because they and team-mates were suffering racist abuse then the principle involved would be the story and would be confronted in such a manner as to render official ducking and diving and general shilly-shallying impossible.

Racism continues to be the ugliest stain on football's reputation. It concerns us all but there is no doubt in my mind that the ultimate sanction is with the players.

---

The hysteria surrounding the ample figure of Wayne Rooney is more an indication of what we are missing than a celebration of what we have.

In other words, in a game increasingly dominated by foreign players the search for a home-grown star, particularly one with an aptitude for scoring goals, takes on an almost mythical significance.

The young man will take a lot of careful counselling if he is to survive and David Moyes, his manager, is right to suggest that promise is what he has, not certainty.

Will he make it? We won't know for a while yet, but on the evidence so far there is reason for optimism.

If Rooney wants to know what the choices are he should study the picture taken last week of Paul Gascoigne in China and put it alongside the experience of sharing the pitch with Patrick Vieira.

I went to Arsenal to see Rooney and was not disappointed, but the real joy was watching a complete footballer demonstrate his craft. He did it again against Chelsea at Stamford Bridge in the FA Cup and should Arsenal do the double they should strike a special medal for Vieira. He is a majestic player and on present form quite simply the best in the business.

He has helped his own cause by endeavouring to contain a confrontational and ugly element in his make-up and although far from rid of his demons he seems more able to walk away from trouble than hitherto.

Even as I write those words, I imagine them returning to haunt me. I hope not. It would be sad if he allowed a flash of temper to taint the memory of a marvellous athlete at the height of his powers.

Rooney should look at Vieira and hope that one day he might influence the fate of a team as the Frenchman does at Arsenal.

Then he should look at the picture of Gascoigne, forgotten in a foreign land, and be aware that once they said of Gascoigne what they are saying about him and nowadays nobody gives a damn.

---

It wasn't a final worthy of a World Cup but then it wasn't much of a World Cup. If ever an event was designed to dissuade investors, baffle spectators and make players feel fed up and far from home it was the cricket World Cup.

Here it barely raised a ripple. The news channels seemed uninterested and the signs are ominous.

Cricket is in a parlous state and it is not lack of money that will dictate the future so much as lack of imagination. What the Aussies have in abundance, we cannot find. This World Cup will be remembered and was remarkable because of the Australian team.

It must now be conceded, without exception, that they are the best one-day team of all time and I have no doubt the best all-round team I have ever seen.

Their coach says they will get better, that what we have seen is not the peak, rather the foothills. Even allowing for a bit of deserved trumpeting, I have no doubt the Aussies mean what they say.

In the past, great teams have happened by chance, a genetic big bang allowing a group of great players to come together at the same time.

The significance of the way Australians are approaching the game nowadays is they can almost guarantee producing unbeatable Test teams in the future.

The message of the World Cup is that the gap is widening and the rest had better start catching up or else the Aussies will end up playing themselves. In the meantime let us be grateful for their presence.

Meanwhile, back at Lord's, those in charge of our cricket might usefully spend some time reflecting on the past as well as contemplating the future.

They can review a dreadful tour of Australia, an early exit from the World Cup and a botched conclusion to the Zimbabwean situation which might well cost a few million quid and thank the good Lord for guiding them into an occupation where incompetence and inertia appear to be necessary requirements for keeping the job.