Sarah Sands: Arise, Sir David (and let's just pretend we won the World Cup)

One of New Labour's legacies is the gold-plated super-rich

Before last summer's World Cup, Tony Blair gave a curious interview about football to Radio 5 Live. He pointed out the parallels between running a team and running the Government, describing David Miliband as the "Wayne Rooney of the Cabinet". Blair also made hopeful comparisons between himself and Sven-Goran Eriksson: "Whether you're Sven or you're me, in the end you want to be judged on the job you do."

Judgement Day came but not as the men imagined it. Sven-Goran Eriksson slunk away after England's disastrous performance - the greatest betrayal of mankind since Eve. Tony Blair's press is not much better. Now, in a gesture of suicidal sympathy, the Prime Minister is reportedly touting David Beckham for a knighthood in the New Year honours.

There are many reasons to object to this and they have all been vehemently aired in the past few days. David Beckham's team haven't won anything. Sir Clive Woodward was knighted after a successful Rugby World Cup in 2003. Duncan Fletcher and the England cricket captain Michael Vaughan were awarded mere OBEs after winning the Ashes in 2005. Alf Ramsey was knighted for managing a team that actually won the World Cup in 1966. Geoff Hurst and Bobby Charlton had to wait for their recognition.

Blair's wish to reward Beckham is a sign of delusion. Can we just pretend that he won? This Labour Government's identification with football's fortunes has been a hysterical infatuation. For Alastair Campbell, it was football right or wrong. The game was so rich and glamorous and populist and multiracial.

It was a cruel tweak of political fate that England turned out to be better at rugby and cricket. Tony and Cherie looked awkward with the England rugby squad, giant representatives of the Conservative stockbroker classes. Cricket is worse, demanding patience and women to make the teas. The figure who captures the hopes and dashed dreams of New Labour is David Beckham. Talented, handsome, married to a pop star, he was a symbol of Britain, like the flag. When I questioned a Blair adviser about the logic of honouring David Beckham, he replied earnestly that Beckham had been the country's great tourist attraction. In the mind of Labour, people came to see Beckingham Palace rather than Buckingham Palace. Manchester United was our Pleasure Dome.

Later, Beckham and his wife Victoria were fashion ambassadors in matching Gucci leather outfits. One of New Labour's most visible legacies is the gold-plated super-rich: fabulous amounts of money and zilch taste. There is a long list of people, most of them friends of the Beckhams, who could be knighted for services to shopping.

The monarchy complex of the Beckhams is only partly a joke. When Victoria Beckham announced her new line in jeans would be hallmarked by a crown logo she was making a commercial judgement about British values. Our old institutions of Queen, Parliament and Church may have been stripped of meaning over the years but couldn't everyone rally round a footballer and his wife on gold thrones?

Like Blair, David Beckham was brimming with potential but found lasting achievement slipped from his grasp. Before the last World Cup, Blair pleaded with Radio 5 listeners to keep faith with Beckham. A caller chided the Prime Minister, suggesting that "every figurehead has his day". Blair joked "I'm a bit worried by that message", then passionately defended his golden boy. "I think he gives the team something as captain... he's a potential match-winner."

Of course David Beckham should be given a knighthood, as a permanent reminder of broken dreams. "Nothing is more important than the state of David Beckham's foot," Blair once declared in a cabinet meeting. The tragedy is that he meant it.