Awards seem a bit dotty

WHEN a well-respected professional has been at the top of their game for almost two decades, it would be churlish to argue against their efforts being recognised.

Serving with distinction and never acting in an arrogant, off-hand manner like so many contemporaries, picking up a trophy as recognition for their efforts is the least that is deserved.

When the gong is handed over by those also in the business, the people who see first-hand the level of dedication needed to excel in such an intense public spotlight, the honour must be all the more special.

Sadly, though, Dot Cotton missed out on a gong at the BAFTA television awards.

Poor old Dot. First Nick comes back, then her granddaughter plots to bump her off — and now this.

Manchester United legend Ryan Giggs, though, did manage to land an award as recognition of glories past.

The evergreen winger was named as the PFA Player of the Year at the weekend, despite only starting in 12 matches for United this season.

Some would describe it as the biggest awards-based injustice since Kramer versus Kramer beat Apocalypse Now to an Oscar in 1979, but essentially it isn’t really worth getting too worked up about.

After all, there is no doubt that Giggs, now 35, has been a fantastic servant for United over the years and will go down as one of the finest wingers Old Trafford has ever seen. Adding a bit of personal silverware before he hangs up his boots is, on balance, probably fair enough.

It is tougher to make an argument in favour of the PFA’s young player prize going to Ashley Young, though.

Stephen Ireland must be asking himself what he has to do to impress his fellow pros. Evidently, consistently outperforming a £32million Brazilian superstar who has himself had a decent season is not enough.

In view of the United-heavy nominations, dare I suggest a transfer to Old Trafford would significantly enhance the Manchester City man’s awards-based opportunities?


HAD the end to Carl Froch’s epic battle with Jermain Taylor been contained in a prospective film script, it would have been tossed into a Hollywood executive’s bin as far too outlandish for the public to swallow.

The battle for the Nottingham super-middleweight’s WBC belt was astonishing for a number of reasons — not least the very odd decision made by every television station in the land to shun live coverage.

No doubt Britain’s only world champion will command more attention next time around after stopping the American on his own patch with a furious last-round assault that was as essential as it was brutal.

Down by four rounds on two of the three judges’ cards, the powerful Froch — who was put down for the first time in his 25-fight career in the third — turned it all around to retain his title by technical knock-out with only 14 seconds left on the clock.

A big puncher with an open style, strong jaw and heavyweight heart, Froch is pure box office. A fight with the retired Joe Calzaghe may only stand a slim chance of coming off given the Welsh star’s love of his unbeaten status, but what a tear-up it would surely be.