FourFourTwo - - UPFRONT -

Gone was the post-war Bryl­creem; it was all sharp jack­ets, gleam­ing cars, dates with mod­els on the King’s Road and Bobby Moore meet­ing Sean Con­nery and Yul Bryn­ner in a Sav­ile Row suit be­fore the World Cup. “They’ve hair­cuts like Perry Como and Jack Kennedy,” wrote Moynihan. All of which is just cool. Moynihan’s as­ser­tion that “foot­ballers were as well groomed as male fash­ion mod­els” still rings true. Just ask CR7 and his plethora of hair prod­ucts, per­fumes and branded un­der­pants. And what of to­day’s Eng­land cap­tain? Well, Wayne Rooney has a £60,000 hair weave and trades slaps with an oiled-up wrestler. In 1958, Moynihan found him­self in Paris, des­per­ate to watch the World Cup fi­nal be­tween Brazil and Swe­den, but with a lovesick girl­friend cu­ri­ously in­dif­fer­ent to talk of Gar­rin­cha or Vava. He ig­nores the city of love’s bet­ter culi­nary es­tab­lish­ments, set­tling on a tacky bistro – the only one with a TV. To­day the world stops not just for the World Cup fi­nal, but any Premier League game. Moynihan would have a se­lec­tion of colos­sal screens to gaze at now, his date al­ways up­dat­ing him with Twit­ter’s re­ac­tion to events. “Look, dar­ling: Piers Mor­gan has urged Arsene Wenger to get his cheque­book out!”

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