True Brits out of the abyss

THERE'S nothing like a glorious failure to get the British sports fan going.

And hats off this week to Justin Rose and Greg Rusedski for their near misses over the weekend.

Both have shown the ability and mental strength to get over serious career set-backs and hopefully they both have a win in them soon.

Rose was actually born in Johannesburg where he finished as runner-up by a stroke to Australian sensation Adam Scott in the Alfred Dunhill Championship.

And Rusedski, who reached the last 16 of the Australian Open after beating world number one Gustavo Kuerten, has more than just a little Canadian in his make-up.

But both are true Brits now and it's heartening to see the pair flying the flag across the world.

Just as importantly, they should provide an example to the rest of our sportsmen and women whose careers may be at the crossroads.

Rusedski's game was completely shot last year before he linked up with Pat Cash and his team of scientists to rebuild himself.

The result was arguably the best win of his career Down Under and suddenly the likeable left-hander can look forward to 2001 and the Holy Grail of Wimbledon with renewed optimism.

Like Rusedski, Rose's game plumbed the depths after his remarkable fourth place finish in the 1998 Open at Royal Birkdale.

The 20-year-old Hampshire lad, who has lived in this country since the age of five, turned professional immediately and missed 21 consecutive cuts.

His reward was three successive trips to the European Tour School where he won his card this winter.

And after his inspired showing in South Africa, Rose, whose head has never dropped, should now be ready to bloom and do his game justice.

Both have come back from the brink and underlined what can be achieved with belief and determination allied to no little talent. Roll on the summer.

HANDS up if you know who's playing in Superbowl XXXV on Sunday.

My guess is not too many, apart from the die-hards who didn't regard American football as just a passing fad of almost a decade ago.

For a year or two gridiron almost sneaked into the national consciousness on the back of the Chicago Bears and the Miami Dolphins and players like Williams 'The Fridge' Perry, Dan Marino and Walter Payton.

Nicky Horne used to welcome us warmly to a Superbowl party on a Sunday night in January on Channel Four after a season long highlights package programme and live Monday night games.

Even the Channel Four logo used to don a helment, snort and scrape its boot ready for the next play when several tons of flesh would collapse in a heap in the hope of gaining a yard.

But like a child with a new toy the great British public soon lost interest and the sport found itself kicked out of sight and out of mind of the casual observer.

Viewing figures are king, although those that scour the schedules and like staying up late can still watch.

But I must admit that the loss of American football as part of our regular sporting diet is a bit of a miss.

I'd happily never watch a game of baseball or basketball in my life, but there's always room in my book for a 40-yard touchdown pass or a length-of-the-field return.

By the way, it's the Baltimore Ravens (formerly the Cleveland Browns) who take on the New York Giants in Tampa in Sunday's showpiece.

COMING soon to a venue near you, the Sven Goran-Eriksson roadshow.

The new England coach has been on a whistle-stop tour of the country ever since his timely departure from Lazio.

Watching games and talking to managers, the Swede is leaving no stone unturned.

It's all good sport for the media as the national papers second-guess his first squad for the up-coming friendly with Spain.

And if his new-look defence gives as little away as the coach has done so far (including during the infamous conversation with 'Kevin Keegan') World Cup qualification may not elude us.