Two Ronnies

I love lists. There it is. Now, if you find innane compilations of Best _ _ _ _ _ Of The Decade lists boring, there's no point reading on...

Looking past the music, film and TV debates of the best stuff this decade, I come to the undeniable winner of World Soccer's list of the Best Players Of The Noughties - Ronaldinho. With Cristiano Ronaldo coming in at second place, cue the arguments.

Whilst I come from the school of Maradona, Cantona and Djalminha, I'm still very susceptible to the work of Carlton Palmer, Mauro Silva and Fatty Brolin - so this list may be edging more toward skill than endeavour. But to say Cristiano Ronaldo is better than Il Dentone is ill-informed spew that smacks of Lovejoy bollocks. (I do love that call in the hyperlink though).

Let's look at the state of the game before they came on the scene - we had a fat Ronaldo, a now-forgotten Luis Figo and Oliver Khan dominating player of the year lists. Not even Zizou could carry the game on his Algerian shoulders for that long. Then came the glory of a Gremio youngster who changed the way that UK viewers approach foreign football - he changed the fortunes of his club, won every trophy he competed for, and was uglier than most footballers we'd ever seen. At one point in a league game, Dinho proceeded to control a ball that was 20 feet in the air, with one touch making it a no-look back-heeled volleyed through ball. As the commentator rightly said, "I'm not having that."

Then came the pretty boy, who's first statement of intent was making Gary Neville look ordinary in a friendly. Not the best barometer of skill really. With his wormy hair, acne and (up to this point) unmerited arrogance, he took a few years to settle in - his skills were great, but his crossing? Fair enough, he repaid that by scoring goals like Andy Cole from a wingers position and won trophies galore - but that wink and annoying screw face had us all mumbling into our pints. And his freekicks were amazing, true that, but look at El Diego - if you can do all that magic with just a left foot, there's really no point using your head.

And after all, isn't that what the player of the decade list should be about - magic? The player that will be remembered for the state of football in eons to come shouldn't be one that's name evokes the words 'cheat' and 'diving'. Instead, we'll think of that lob over Seaman, the Bernabeu applauding, and Petr Cech getting done by a nutmeg from the edge of the box. Oh, and John Terry on his arse - all from a buck-toothed fat guy with a pony tail.