Morning Call: pick of the papers

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

1. Cameron does not deserve this B-team (Daily Telegraph)

The Tory leader David Cameron can do nothing to satisfy his selfish MPs, says Peter Oborne. The only winner is Ed Miliband.

2. Is plebgate a product of the push for police reform? (Guardian)

The Mitchell affair is a reminder that relations between this government and the force are as bad as any in living memory, writes Martin Kettle.

3. Damned and cast out prematurely. No wonder Mitchell is angry (Independent)

Sometimes in these storms spin doctors can make mistakes, says Steve Richards. Mitchell's apology, in staged public circumstances, seemed an implicit acceptance of guilt.

4. I am not a leftie bank-basher, but why has no one been jailed for their criminality? (Daily Mail)

Without the awareness of fault that a proper inquiry would bring, bankers will repeat their sins, says Stephen Glover.

5. Cameron is wrong to take on the Tory party (Financial Times)

The prime minister’s tactics appear disastrous, says Tessa Keswick.

6. A referendum on Europe? Bring it on, for all our sakes (Guardian)

Cameron, Clegg and Miliband all fear a public vote - but they should go for it nonetheless, says Timothy Garton Ash. Let the people decide.

7. Who Dares Wins (Times) (£)

Obama needs to insist on gun control, not just ask for it, says a Times editorial.

8. Confusion reigns when the police won’t talk (Daily Telegraph)

For the Metropolitan Police, press briefings are a thing of the past – and it’s the public that is losing out, says John Yates.

9. Europe must be sold on shale’s merits (Financial Times)

If the argument is not won, the region could miss out on a huge opportunity, writes Noe van Hulst.

10. The Church is being reborn in cafes and homes (Independent)

New congregations are being created for the benefit of people who’ve never been to Church, writes Andreas Whittam Smith.

Steve Garry
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The footie is back. Three weeks in and what have we learned so far?

Barcleys, boots and big names... the Prem is back.

Another season, another reason for making whoopee cushions and giving them to Spurs fans to cheer them up during the long winter afternoons ahead. What have we learned so far?

Big names are vital. Just ask the manager of the Man United shop. The arrival of Schneiderlin and Schweinsteiger has done wonders for the sale of repro tops and they’ve run out of letters. Benedict Cumberbatch, please join Carlisle United. They’re desperate for some extra income.

Beards are still in. The whole Prem is bristling with them, the skinniest, weediest player convinced he’s Andrea Pirlo. Even my young friend and neighbour Ed Miliband has grown a beard, according to his holiday snaps. Sign him.

Boots Not always had my best specs on, but here and abroad I detect a new form of bootee creeping in – slightly higher on the ankle, not heavy-plated as in the old days but very light, probably made from the bums of newborn babies.

Barclays Still driving me mad. Now it’s screaming from the perimeter boards that it’s “Championing the true Spirit of the Game”. What the hell does that mean? Thank God this is its last season as proud sponsor of the Prem.

Pitches Some groundsmen have clearly been on the weeds. How else can you explain the Stoke pitch suddenly having concentric circles, while Southampton and Portsmouth have acquired tartan stripes? Go easy on the mowers, chaps. Footballers find it hard enough to pass in straight lines.

Strips Have you seen the Everton third kit top? Like a cheap market-stall T-shirt, but the colour, my dears, the colour is gorgeous – it’s Thames green. Yes, the very same we painted our front door back in the Seventies. The whole street copied, then le toot middle classes everywhere.

Scott Spedding Which international team do you think he plays for? I switched on the telly to find it was rugby, heard his name and thought, goodo, must be Scotland, come on, Scotland. Turned out to be the England-France game. Hmm, must be a member of that famous Cumbrian family, the Speddings from Mirehouse, where Tennyson imagined King Arthur’s Excalibur coming out the lake. Blow me, Scott Spedding turns out to be a Frenchman. Though he only acquired French citizenship last year, having been born and bred in South Africa. What’s in a name, eh?

Footballers are just so last season. Wayne Rooney and Harry Kane can’t score. The really good ones won’t come here – all we get is the crocks, the elderly, the bench-warmers, yet still we look to them to be our saviour. Oh my God, let’s hope we sign Falcao, he’s a genius, will make all the difference, so prayed all the Man United fans. Hold on: Chelsea fans. I’ve forgotten now where he went. They seek him here, they seek him there, is he alive or on the stairs, who feckin’ cares?

John Stones of Everton – brilliant season so far, now he is a genius, the solution to all of Chelsea’s problems, the heir to John Terry, captain of England for decades. Once he gets out of short trousers and learns to tie his own laces . . .

Managers are the real interest. So refreshing to have three young British managers in the Prem – Alex Neil at Norwich (34), Eddie Howe at Bournemouth (37) and that old hand at Swansea, Garry Monk, (36). Young Master Howe looks like a ball boy. Or a tea boy.

Mourinho is, of course, the main attraction. He has given us the best start to any of his seasons on this planet. Can you ever take your eyes off him? That handsome hooded look, that sarcastic sneer, the imperious hand in the air – and in his hair – all those languages, he’s so clearly brilliant, and yet, like many clever people, often lacking in common sense. How could he come down so heavily on Eva Carneiro, his Chelsea doctor? Just because you’re losing? Yes, José has been the best fun so far – plus Chelsea’s poor start. God, please don’t let him fall out with Abramovich. José, we need you.

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 27 August 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Isis and the new barbarism