I’m more of a Saint than Gold­en­balls

Midweek Sport - - NEWS -

I LOBBED a quid into the open gui­tar case of a busker on Mon­day af­ter­noon, and I don’t mind ad­mit­ting feel­ing quite good about it.

My coin bounced off just one other – a two pence piece – and so at least my money would help the fella buy a load of bread.

It did get me won­der­ing who would chuck in such a minis­cule amount like tup­pence, and then it struck – what about David Beck­ham?

Fleet Street was trip­ping over it­self last week to laud Gold­en­balls for wav­ing his new salary at Paris Saint-Ger­main and giv­ing it in­stead to an as yet uniden­ti­fied chil­dren’s char­ity.

But while some sports cor­re­spon­dents’ tongues hit the floor in gasp­ing ad­mi­ra­tion, one or two no­table ex­cep­tions pointed out that if Becks never worked again he’d still be spec­tac­u­larly rich.

They also pointed out the very real fact that for Becks, the salary side of things was never his main con­sid­er­a­tion in any case.


No, it’s all about his cut of his im­age rights.

And at PSG last week, the same time he let slip to the world what a jolly good f***ing fel­low he was, shirts with his name and num­ber 32 on the back were al­ready on sale at just £73 a pop.

And they’ll be shift­ing by the thou­sands.

Fac­tor in the evitable flurry of French prod­ucts he’ll be paid to en­dorse over the next few months – on top of his hugely lu­cra­tive off-field in­come al­ready in place – and he’s left with a pile of cash you or I could only ever dream of.

Yes, the char­ity – which­ever one it turns out to be – wins.

But Saint Beck­ham? Not a chance.

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