Morning Call: pick of the papers

The ten must-read comment pieces from this morning's papers.

1. Britain’s bluster serves the eurozone well (Financial Times)

David Cameron is giving the grouping the nudge it needs, writes Wolfgang Munchau

2. When Leveson reports, parliament must act swiftly (Guardian)

MPs of all parties asked for this inquiry. We would be betraying the media's victims if we ignored its findings, writes Ed Miliband

3. A brief glimpse of a better Europe, then back to reality (Guardian)

David Cameron knows the value of working with the EU, but his hands are tied by Tory Europhobes and Ukip, writes Jackie Ashley

4. I see one last, if faint, hope for a truly free British press (Telegraph)

For the Prime Minister to offer the newspapers a final chance would be both statesmanlike and a complete political nightmare, says Matthew d'Ancona

5. Church and State must loosen their bonds (The Times)

It doesn’t need to be divorce. But if Anglicans take their laws from God, they can’t expect us all to follow them, writes Matthew Parris.

6. Horrible singers, horny snowmen and horrendous slave labour (Guardian)

This year's crop of festive high-street commercials feature fey, irritating cover versions and sexist scenarios, writes Charlie Brooker

7. Washington must stop the creeping rust (Financial Times)

The need to invest for the future becomes alarmingly clear, writes Edward Luce

8. Ignorance of paedophilia harms efforts to tackle it (Guardian)

News stories provoke panic but not informed debate. A charity aims to change that, writes Mark Solms

9. I’ve seen the future in India, and Britain can share the spoils (Telegraph)

Indian dynamism puts the eurozone to shame. This is where we need to be doing business, says Boris Johnson

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Britain’s bluster serves the eurozone well

One of the curious things about the EU is a predictable inverse relationship between the amount of money at stake and the time spent on negotiations.

High quality global journalism requires investment. Please share this article with others using the link below, do not cut & paste the article. See our Ts&Cs and Copyright Policy for more detail. Email ftsales.support@ft.com to buy additional rights. http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/ab340340-34c9-11e2-99df-00144feabdc0.html#ixzz2DJNcUcQa

Britain’s bluster serves the eurozone well

One of the curious things about the EU is a predictable inverse relationship between the amount of money at stake and the time spent on negotiations.

Has Lord Leveson noticed the demonisation of minorities? Writes Yasmin Alibhai Brown

 

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times