Like it or not, more foreigners are on their way. Guy Osborn and Steve Greenfield explain the new work permit rules in the pipeline

The argument that too many foreigners are ruining British football often revolves around quality rather than quantity. By common consent the likes of Ginola, Zola and Stam have made a positive contribution to the Premier League but there are many others who could be regarded as journeymen. It is this influx, the critics argue, that is devaluing the national character of the game and denying domestic players opportunities. Changes now being considered by the Department of Education and Employment may result in even greater numbers of overseas players coming into the country.

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Ronald Reng explains why he's still waiting for English attitudes to foreign players change

In the crowded toilet of a Barnsley nightspot called The Theatre I learned what it means to be a foreign football hero in England. As I walked in with Lars Leese, Barnsley’s giant German goalkeeper, one of the men relieving themselves turned around and wel­comed Lars with a hint of poetry: “Oh, Lars Leese/Tall as trees.” Then the man gently stepped back to offer Lars his place at the urinal. During all this he kept on pissing, now on the floor.

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While Manchester United sauntered off to Barcelona, Howard Pattison had Gillingham on his mind. And so did a small, red man with horns and a pointy tail

When Christopher Marlowe wrote Dr Faustus, he was only concerned with the notion of selling your soul to the devil in return for immense wealth (or whatever it was, it’s years since I saw it). Interestingly, for some­one who was bumped off so close to the Millwall foot­ball ground, he never speculated on what lengths one might go to in return for a good cup run, or a monster upset against a Premiership outfit, or a late winner in injury time. Think about it for a moment. Exactly what would you sell your soul for?

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The German media were quick to put Bayern's failure to win the European Cup down to rank bad luck. Ian Plenderleith begs to differ

For many a long year German football commentary was characterised by the adage that “the good teams make their own luck”. That was the line after penalty shoot-outs against England, for example, or after win­ning the 1990 World Cup through a penalty awarded after a blatant dive, or winning Euro 96 through a deflected golden goal, or even after Bayern Munich’s late winner in this season’s Champions League group game against Barcelona after they had played abysmally for an hour and a half. But, as Günter Netzer famously com­mented after the national side’s 3-0 defeat by Cro­atia in France 98, “at some poi­nt luck has to run out”.

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Joyce Woolridge bought a ticket for £12, went to Barcelona and saw her team win the European Cup, albeit from a great height. Not everyone was so lucky

“If there is anyone with a spare match ticket, would they contact the gentleman in seat 16B.” An ironic cheer greeted this announcement as our plane joined the other charters making their way to Spain for the Champions League final. As it turned out, the hopeful passenger would find no shortage of people with tick­ets available once we touched down in Barcelona.

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