Ken Jones: Rooney rhetoric reveals ignorance of football's great players

In times like these it is almost impossible to come across sports programmes on television and radio that do not dwell on the present at the expense of the past. Earlier this week, for example, an ITV presenter wound up reflections on events in the Premiership season with a rhetorical question. "Has there ever been a 17-year-old like Wayne Rooney?"

This is not to detract from Rooney's potential. But to propose that football has never before seen such a precocious talent is not only in ignorance of history but typical of exaggerated judgements formed across the broad spectrum of sports coverage. Everything, it seems, has to be a celebration of now.

The remark about Rooney had no sooner been cast on the airwaves than a number of names crossed my mind, none more illustrious than Pele, the greatest player in history, who was roughly Rooney's age when he turned out for Brazil in the 1958 World Cup final, and a year younger on his debut for Santos.

The new picture that replaces the old fails to accommodate Stanley Matthews who began his marvellous career as a 17-year-old with Stoke City, the age at which John Charles came to the fore with Leeds United. George Best was an exciting presence for Manchester United at 17, Denis Law only 16 on his league debut for Huddersfield. Diego Maradona was only 15 when he first turned out for Argentinos Juniors. Duncan Edwards turned out in the First Division for Manchester United when six months short of his 17th birthday. Chelsea introduced Jimmy Greaves as a 17-year-old.

In moments of furious idleness, when I am trying to work up a little creative thought, I am inevitably drawn to comparisons with the past, some fair, some perhaps influenced by irritation with brethren in this trade who frequently convey the impression that football began with the formation of the Premiership.

Sometimes it appears that we are descending into a twilight of reason and language cued by an obsession with salaries and corporate activity. It is a personal prejudice, but I am not much interested in what sports stars earn. It is comparatively easy to find out the salary of any professional athlete, and the last few years have given us a frenzy of money stories on the sports pages. Rankings of players and coaches by income. Things like that. Stock market tables disguised as sports stories.

I am interested in performance. What bothers me is the modern assessment of where performance, individual and collective, sits in the context of time. It is not long ago that I took exception in this space to the omission of Law from a televised history of Manchester United. Equally irksome was the suggestion that Manchester United's recent elimination from the Champions' League by Real Madrid might have been the greatest game ever played. This was another example of how easily sports writers and commentators are influenced by supposition. Accepting the illusions of sport, the hype of sport, is as dangerous as a fifth martini.

The match between Manchester United and Real Madrid at Old Trafford had its merits but I can think of many, equal in importance, that rise above it both in dramatic content and technical excellence. Rummaging through history, it is also reasonable to suggest that both clubs have been better represented. Certainly, anyone who saw the Real Madrid of Alfredo Di Stefano, Ferenc Puskas, Francisco Gento, Luis Del Sol and Santamaria would think the present combination inferior.

What we saw when Real Madrid met Juventus in the first of this week's Champions' League semi-finals was further proof that their adventurous style is not so much an extension of romance but a policy forced by defensive limitations. And to suggest, as one critic did, that Juventus kicked Real out of their rhythm was nonsense.

It is not popular to argue a case for moderation when setting the present against the past. Today is all, overpowering. Manchester United are reckoned to have their best-ever team, yesterday's heroes would be lost in the Premiership, Rooney's progress is unique. As history tells us, it ain't necessarily so.