Back in the late 1960s, The Beatles invited the cameras in to watch them rehearse and record an album. The album 'Let It Be' turned out to be pretty good - but the film captured the bitter, bickering disintegration of the band before our eyes.

Years later the Football Association decided it might be a good idea to allow the cameras to record the behind-the-scenes story of England's march to the 1994 World Cup finals under the management of Graham Taylor. There was just one problem - England did not qualify.

The subsequent film almost ended Taylor's managerial career; it probably did finish that of his assistant Phil Neal, and it included the pitiful sight of Paul Gascoigne blaming a "crap ball" for a sorry performance against San Marino.

The TV viewers loved it; a chance to gatecrash on a car crash.

TV cameras are capturing Rodgers's early months in charge of Liverpool. Photo: Getty Images

At West Bromwich Albion on Saturday, Liverpool's players were under similar scrutiny. American TV network Fox Sports has had its cameras following Liverpool's every step since the back end of last season.

On Saturday they had a camera in the dressing room before the game, at half-time and after the match.

The documentary will be shown as a six-part series on both sides of the Atlantic, with screening scheduled to start in the US on 16 September. Details have yet to be confirmed, but it is understood that it will be shown in the UK at a similar time on Channel 5.

Presumably the rationale behind the documentary was to heighten awareness of the brand in their owners' home market; to make Stevie G and Co stars Stateside.

'This will be an amazing opportunity for our fans to see a new side of the club," said chairman Tom Werner.

Nice idea .....on paper.

First the cameras captured Liverpool capitulating in the race to qualify for the Champions League, then Liverpool losing the FA Cup Final. They then saw Liverpool sacking Kenny Dalglish and appointing Brendan Rogers before the side were thumped in their opening game of the new campaign.

The cameras pack and wrap after the match against Manchester City next weekend - perhaps it's just as well.

This from a club which, in its glory days, used to pride itself on doing business behind closed doors, and a club which, in recent years, has been fierce in protecting its players from media requests for access and interviews.

No doubt when the film is finished it will make fascinating viewing for us; I am much less certain that it will make comfortable viewing for John Henry and Werner - and it's hard to imagine anyone sanctioning Series Two.

Donetsk is the mining and industrial heartland of Eastern Ukraine. In Soviet times it was a centre for the manufacture of military hardware and as such was closed to foreign travellers.

I first visited Donetsk in 2000 with Arsenal, for a match against a new emerging force in Ukrainian football - the previously little-known Shakhtar.

At that time, the region still felt as far removed from Western Europe as is possible. There were two hotels in Donetsk, one was terrible and the other was worse. Arsenal brought their own food, bedding, toilet roll and cleaners; the rest of us had to make do.

We were warmly welcomed, though. I remember travelling through dimly-lit streets to Shakhtar's stadium for training the night before the match and having an orange and black Shakhtar scarf thrust into my hand by a supporter. He just wanted the name of his club to be spread abroad. He's certainly had his wish, with a 2009 Uefa Cup victory and Champions League football almost guaranteed every year.

The Donbass Arena in Donetsk was paid for by Ukraine's richest man, Rinat Akhmetov. Photo: Reuters

Twelve years on since my first visit and Donetsk has changed enormously, although it would still struggle to be described as a tourist trap.

Enormous slag heaps rise in the distance, and the old Soviet-style bureaucracy is fading only slowly, judging by the leaflet we were given at our hotel. "The Main Territorial Department of the Ministry of Emergency Situations of Ukraine in the Donetsk region and the Main Department of State of Technogenic Safety in the Donetsk region welcome you." Err, thanks!

Back in 2000, Arsenal had already qualified for the next phase of the Champions League and their side, which included my BBC co-commentator Martin Keown, lost 3-0 to Shakhtar.

On Monday I walked past Lenin Square, down Pushkin Boulevard and across the bridge that crosses First City Pond (actually a big lake) to the old stadium. It is a sorry sight, locked and crumbling, a relic of Donetsk and Shakhtar's past.

A couple of miles away at the other end of town the extraordinary Donbass Arena is being prepared for the semi-final between Spain and Portugal. It was the first stadium in Eastern Europe to be given Uefa elite status, and boy does it deserve the accolade. It is so good that frankly it makes Arsenal's Emirates Stadium look a little dated.

There were long queues forming at the ticket collection windows this morning for a contest being billed as between Spain, one of the best football teams of all time, and Cristiano Ronaldo, one of the best players of this or of any generation. The sense of occasion is palpable, as is the sense that Donetsk, situated right on the eastern fringes of Europe, has arrived on European football's centre stage.

It was a fairly bedraggled look for first thing on a Friday.

As Gdansk's rush hour started to build, so dribs and drabs of Republic of Ireland fans bedecked in every kind of green-and-white fancy dress imaginable started to plan their route to Poznan.

The costumes had taken a battering in the long hours spent in the bars of the old town, and their owners' voices were harsh and hoarse after not just an hour and a half, but days of out-singing their Spanish counterparts.

The Polish TV crews loved it, relishing the opportunity to marvel at the Irish appetite for enjoyment despite a proper pounding at the hands of the Spanish.

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The 4-0 defeat by world and European champions Spain means the Irish cannot make it through to the last eight.

Nonetheless, the pubs in Poznan will have restocked their cellars in preparation for another onslaught before and after the match against Italy - but once that game is played where are Ireland heading?

Despite qualifying for these Euros, Ireland's first tournament finals for a decade, and having only been robbed of qualification for the last World Cup by Thierry Henry's handball in Paris, the calls for manager Giovanni Trapattoni to step down were inevitable.

The Irish have been really disappointing in Poland.

Nobody expected them to contribute much attacking flair to group C, but few expected them to concede so freely against Croatia or to capitulate so completely against Spain.

While the Italians are deeply, and rightly, fearful of an Irish rally and the ability of one of their own to unpick their own hopes of qualifying for the last eight, Trapattoni and his side have some significant long-term decisions to make.

Some have questioned whether the 73-year-old Italian has the desire to go on for the remaining two years of his contract. But it would certainly seem he has, judging by the way he has bitten back at the critics in general and former Republic midfielder Roy Keane in particular.

It'll take some energy, however, to find a new generation of players, assuming that many of the elder statesmen of this Irish squad decide to leave international football behind them.

Shay Given, Richard Dunne, Robbie Keane, Damien Duff and even John O'Shea could all be forgiven for deciding that weariness demands they rest more and play less. None of them owes their countrymen anything after such magnificent careers and not far short of 500 caps between them.

Ireland's 2014 World Cup qualifying group is tough; along with Sweden and Austria they will be surely be chasing second place behind Germany, with Kazakhstan and the Faroe Islanders hoping to provide the occasional upset.

That campaign comes round quickly with a trip to Kazakhstan in early September followed Germany's visit to Dublin in October.

A good start is crucial and a decent result and much-improved performance against Italy could make all the difference in ensuring the Irish are in the right frame of mind for those challenges no matter who is in the team.

I gather there are few people who have been wondering where I have been, which is nice, although there may have been many more enjoying my absence! Suffice to say that a lot of the last two weeks have been spent shuttling between home and hospital after a family emergency and I am just glad that I am able to get here at all.

The alarm went off at 03:45 BST on Wednesday to get me up in time for the early flight to Warsaw. A quick drive into the centre of the Polish capital took me past both Legia Warsaw's impressive new ground and the gleaming National Stadium where the Poles have played Greece and Russia in their first two group games.

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There was just time to get some zlotys from a cash point before picking up Mick McCarthy, soundman Phil Gibbens and floor manager Nick Bushell before heading off on the five hour drive to Gdansk where I will be commentating on the Republic of Ireland's game with Spain on Thursday.

Gdansk is a lovely city, whose old town on the Motlawa River is crawling with Irish fans.

As Mick and I headed to the river to record a preview chat of the game, which was shown on Wednesday night's BBC One coverage of the match between Germany and the Netherlands, he was practically mobbed by people wanting a photo or autograph, or mostly both. I felt like his minder, "Come on lads let him through, please!"

Many of the Spanish fans in the restaurant where we ate also smiled and waved at Mick, though it's fair to say that the sudden appearance of a tracksuited Cesc Fabregas, who scored in Spain's opening game, caused the biggest stir of the night.

So can the Republic of Ireland do it? Certainly they will need to play a lot better than they did against Croatia, and they will also need more luck. It seems likely that boss Giovanni Trapattoni will decide to play five across midfield and sacrifice a striker to avoid being swamped by the Spanish midfield.

That extra man seems unlikely to be Sunderland's James McLean, who would certainly get the vote of the majority of the Irish fans heading to the Baltic Arena for the game.

Spain may start without a striker again, as they did against Italy. They may be the World and European champions but they are not quite at the level they once were. In the four years leading up to the 2010 World Cup, they lost just two games - in the two years since they have lost four.

The Republic of Ireland may be talking about making that five, but they would be ecstatic if they could manage a draw and pick up the point that would definitely leave them with something to play for against Italy.

If there is anyone who knows how to beat the Italians, it must be one of the greatest Italian managers of all time.

Last season's relegation decider was one of the most memorable programmes of recent years as four crucial games were cut together to reflect every twist and turn as it happened.

I was at Stoke against Wigan that day, getting news from the other relevant matches fed into my ear as the game unfolded. Wigan's scenario was that they had to win and you will recall that they did exactly that. Blackburn and Wolves also clung to safety while Blackpool and Birmingham bit the dust around them.

Every cruel surge of hope and flood of despair was brilliantly reflected on the programme as it flipped from venue to venue.

At least if I had got my maths wrong the only person to suffer would have been me. Manchester City fans may be intent on seeing their side clinch the title this Sunday, but many will recall when one such horrible error helped to send them down.

The Blackburn Rovers players are now down and out. Photo: Getty

Back in 1996, City were drawing 2-2 with Liverpool at Maine Road when manager Alan Ball was incorrectly informed that a draw would be enough to keep them up. He duly instructed his players to time waste - it was a big mistake and City went down.

This season I will be at the Stadium of Light, where Manchester United will be hoping for similar last day City buffoonery. City fans with long memories will be certain that if any club can snatch defeat from the jaws of victory then it is them.

It is more than likely that the City and United games will be intercut on Match of the Day, and then I can assume in my commentary that the viewer will be as aware of events in the other game as I am. There are, after all, still people who do not like to hear the football results before the famous MOTD theme music starts up, though how they manage it I am not sure.

The running order of games on Sunday's programme is slightly complicated by the fact the City v QPR game also goes a long way to deciding the last relegation issue; a point for QPR might help hand the title to United but would also relegate Bolton - barring a nine goal win for Owen Coyle's side at Stoke.

If City win then our man there, Guy Mowbray, will have to keep his powder dry over what that means for QPR's chances of survival until it's confirmed by Jonathan Pearce's commentary from the Britannia.

Then there is the race for third and fourth.....

It's probably the most enjoyable programme of the season to work on and hopefully one of the best to watch. The only problem is that next weekend doing normal stuff without a game to commentate on will be strange indeed. Roll on the Euros.

Liverpool achieved both those goals in one afternoon by winning the Carling Cup last Sunday.

Now, what will the rest of the season hold?

In some ways, Liverpool are at a crossroads. The FA Cup is a very enticing prospect, with a home quarter final against Stoke City, no Manchester United, Manchester City or Arsenal in their way - and no guarantee that Chelsea will make the last eight either.

But a return to the Champions League would be the most significant achievement of all.

And, just as then, their push started with a League Cup final win on penalties against Championship opposition......for Birmingham City in 2001, read Cardiff City now.

Dalglish holds the Carling Cup aloft after beating Cardiff 3-2 on penalties. Photo: Getty

In those days, only three English teams qualified for the Champions League. But, once the League Cup had been won, Liverpool successfully juggled Uefa Cup and FA Cup quarter-finals, semi-finals and finals with their last dozen league games to make up ground on the top teams and pip Leeds United to third place on the last day of the season.

This time have Liverpool have no European fixtures to contend with, but more ground to make up in the league.

They are seventh, seven points behind both Arsenal and Chelsea and four behind Newcastle but with a game in hand (against Everton) on them all.

Maybe the freedom and confidence of a first trophy since 2006 will allow them to take off the shackles and turn draws into wins, especially at home?

After all, if they miss out on the Champions League this time, future qualification is only likely to get harder for Liverpool. Chelsea and Arsenal are vulnerable at the moment in a way they may not be next season. Neither have found any consistent form and both may strengthen considerably in the summer.

Certainly Chelsea have a spending power which Liverpool could not live with and, who knows, manager Arsene Wenger may even take the padlocks off the Arsenal purse strings.

It's hard to gauge which way Spurs will go if Harry Redknapp leaves, but they will obviously be a force, while the two Manchester clubs would seem to have places at the top table more or less guaranteed and Newcastle will be hoping that they can build on their considerable achievements so far this season.

There is also the possibility that any more poor years in the Champions League could see the Premier League's quota cut back to three clubs.

If that were to happen than Liverpool's hopes of being on the inside of the gravy train looking out rather than the outside looking in would look slimmer again. That's why I say Liverpool are at a crossroads.

For Kenny's men, the League Cup was a start and the FA Cup would be fantastic, but the remaining 13 league games are crucial. They start with Arsenal coming to Anfield on Saturday and, if Liverpool are to close that seven-point gap, that's almost a must-win match.

After another defeat, this time to Napoli, it is in the dressing room that his problems seem to lie.

I like Villas-Boas. He was a bit sparky when I suggested to him that Chelsea were not the better team against Manchester United recently, but we agreed to disagree with a firm handshake and a sort of smile.

When you take into account that he conducts all this verbal sparring with the media in a foreign language, he is all the more impressive.

Still awaiting Abramovich's public backing, Villas-Boas cut a lonely figure in Naples. Photo: Getty

He certainly doesn't lack self-belief, or bravery. To leave Frank Lampard and Ashley Cole out of his side in Naples suggests a strength of character which will stand him in good stead in the future.

He has only been a manager for little more than two years and he will be an outstanding manager in the years ahead - but where will that future be?

His call for Roman Abramovich to make public the support he says he has been given in private has, so far, fallen on deaf ears.

The former Porto boss seems to be in a battle for control with some elements at the club who are, at best, ambivalent towards him. If Abramovich were to make it clear that there can only be one winner in that battle, then those dissenters would either have to like it or lump it.

The silence from the top continues to be deafening, and that is undermining the manager.

Forget this being Villas-Boas's biggest test, I make this Abramovich's biggest test in football too. In appointing a 33-year-old, the Russian went out on a limb - now does he have the conviction to back his man against an internal chorus of disapproval?

Abramovich can certainly afford to go through the whole expensive firing and hiring process again. After all, it has been suggested recently that he may have spent more on boats than football in the last couple of years.

But while Villas-Boas is fighting for his Premier League future, there is no doubting who holds the power at Manchester United.

I enjoyed listening to 70-year-old Sir Alex Ferguson sit down with DJ Spoony to talk about his life and times and, no doubt, to catch up on the UK garage music scene.

When he saw Spoony's interview request, Ferguson probably had to check with some of his squad that it was not a wind-up. I can hear it now, "Aye, but I cannae call you that, what's your real name, son?"

In the interview, Ferguson said he will have another two or three years in charge before taking an ambassadorial role at the club. I'll believe it when I see it.

It would not surprise me one iota to see Fergie as manager at Old Trafford beyond that.
Bobby Robson went on past 71, Craig Brown will be 72 this summer and is still the boss at Aberdeen and, in the German Bundesliga, Hertha Berlin have this week appointed Otto Rehhagel as their manager and he will be 74 in August.

It seems there is plenty of life in the old dog yet.

The Villans have taken just 28 points from 24 games this season and sit 13th in the Premier League table.

They have not won at home since early November and attendances at Villa Park are down around 10 per cent on last season.

Those same fans who were horrified when chairman Randy Lerner appointed Alex McLeish - the former manager of bitter rivals Birmingham City - have been online this week whipping up support for a planned protest against the Scotsman before their game against Manchester City on Sunday.

To add to their conviction that McLeish is the wrong man for the job, they are pointing to his spat with Charles N'Zogbia and the Frenchman's much reported tweet as evidence of player unrest.

Villa have taken just 28 points from 24 games this season under McLeish. Photo: Getty

The £10m signing tweeted he was not happy playing football for the first time in his life - a post which was swiftly removed.

I cannot tell you what they mood really is in that Villa dressing room, but I can tell you that employing N'Zogbia has sometimes been a challenge for other clubs as well.

His undoubted potential might not have been reached when he was a teenager at French club Le Havre, because of his affiliation with bad influences, while he left Newcastle for Wigan when Joe Kinnear left him out of the team and upset him by mispronouncing his name as "insomnia".

The fans are hankering for a return of the good old days at Villa, not only the fantastic side of the early 80s when they won the First Division and European Cup in successive seasons, but also looking on enviously at the magic being spun by their former boss Martin O'Neill at Sunderland.

Ah yes, those were the days - when, in their first 24 games under O'Neill, they had 29 points and sat 14th in the table.

I'm not saying that everything is fantastic at Villa Park, but I don't think the manager is the major problem. O'Neill, given time, financial support and the goodwill of the fans, achieved terrific things with three sixth-place finishes, a Wembley final and a taste of Europe.

However, could it be that O'Neill resigned five days before the start of the 2010/11 season because he could see which way the club was going? In simple terms the money has largely dried up.

Yes, they signed Darren Bent last January for a fee which could eventually rise to £24m - but at the time Villa were 17th and in serious danger of being relegated.

If only Lerner had been willing to invest to attempt a step up rather than to fend off a step down, then perhaps O'Neill would still be in charge?

Lerner is entitled to spend as much or as little as he pleases, but I do think it is time for him to put his aside his desire for just about the lowest profile in football and explain what his long-term strategy for the club is.

As things stand, Villa look destined to be a mid-table outfit for evermore.

McLeish is probably no happier with that than the Villa faithful are; but surely he deserves to be judged against the record of other Villa managers only when he is given the same opportunities?

Of these, the most enjoyable was the first, and without question the most inaccessible place I have ever watched a football match was in the heart of the Sahara desert in western Mali in Kayes, a town of about 100,000 people.

According to my guidebook, Kayes was noteworthy for one thing; being Africa's hottest town. Kayes, more than 300 miles from our BBC base in the capital, Bamako, was not accessible by road at all.

Only a driver with an intimate knowledge of how to survive in the desert would attempt to cross all those miles of the Sahara in a vehicle, and even then it would take days.

It may not come as huge surprise to hear that Air Mali was not equipped with a large fleet of shiny jets. In fact Air Mali was not over- equipped with planes of any sort. They had one. Normally it did a shuttle from Bamako to Timbuktu for tourists, but during the tournament it was ferrying VIPs to matches and was out of bounds to us.

To make up for the lack of local planes, the organisers had borrowed a nice little jet and crew from South African Airways. Lovely, sleek design, air-conditioned and safe, it was an oasis of comfort. At least that's how it looked to us members of the BBC commentary team as the South African squad boarded it for their quarter-final against Mali in Kayes later that day.

The Africa Cup of Nations brings out the best of the colour and dance from the fans. Photo: Getty

Travelling with them was the huge figure of Emmanuel Maradas, one of the senior men in Africa's governing body for football, Caf.

We had a great view of them from our seats aboard the other plane which had been acquired for the duration of the tournament. This had been borrowed, along with a pilot, from Air Armenia.

It's fair to say that when you are contemplating a trip over some of Africa's least habitable terrain, you do not necessarily want to be making that trip in the plane which Air Armenia do not want, flown by the pilot they could most do without.

After a long wait for that pilot to arrive, he finally strolled aboard from the back of the plane (I think the handles on the doors at the front had long since fallen off). He lit up a cigarette and yawned. Clearly he had recently been awoken from a deep sleep.

Muttering some prayer under my breath, I decided I did not want to watch whatever was about to happen and pulled down the window cover, which came off in my hand.

Miraculously, our flight was trouble-free. About an hour-and-a-half later we landed on the new airstrip on the outskirts of Kayes, built just a mile or so from the new football stadium.

I can confirm that the guidebook was not kidding about Kayes being hot. As the South African team emerged from the dressing rooms for kick-off, at six in the evening local time, my colleague and producer Nick Bushell showed me his thermometer - it was a tad under 120 degrees, and we were in the shade of the only roof.

For 90 minutes the South Africans ran around like they had puddles of sweat in their boots, which they probably did, and lost to Mali 2-0.

Clutching our boarding passes for the return journey and looking forward to a drink or three in Bamako, we piled on to the bus bound for the airport.

Slowly a realisation dawned on us as we bounced across the baked red earth; on the way to the stadium this bus had been half-full, now it was packed.

Clearly, our friend from Air Armenia must have made the journey from Bamako more than once that day carrying press, photographers and officials to Kayes.

Now, with light failing, what were the chances of him doing more than one flight back to the capital? I reckoned none at all. Worse still, every single person had a boarding pass for the same plane.

Even if Air Armenia let you stand in the aisles for the flight, which they probably would, the plane could not hope to hold more than about 50 people - about half the number hoping to be on board. Nick quickly checked in the guidebook for advice on overnight stays in Kayes. It was a short chapter - "Don't."

Everyone had come to the same conclusion; one small plane, one large crowd, only one flight. It was getting tense as we got off the bus on to the side of the airstrip tarmac behind a barrier manned by armed police.

Air Armenia's finest appeared and taxied to within a hundred yards of our now desperate throng. The police then removed the barrier and everyone ran for the plane waving our useless boarding cards. This was going to be the flight of the fittest and I didn't fancy my chances of getting on the plane.

Suddenly, with the masses converging, the rear door opened and there, as if by magic, at the top of the stairs was Emmanuel Maradas in his Caf blazer.

"Stop!" he bellowed. "BBC ..... BBC!" I have no idea why, and I have no idea what everyone else made of it; but this sainted angel from on high was not going to let anyone on board until my colleagues and I had taken our places. Too grateful to be worried by the injustice of it, we clambered up the steps and sheepishly sat down.

That night as I settled down under my mosquito net in my ultra-modest hotel bedroom, I have never felt so lucky and so guilty. This, I thought, is luxury.

Every weekend there is a catalogue of evidence made up of slow-motion, frame-by-frame replays to prove that the men in black are becoming less adept at applying the laws of the game appropriately. Managers criticise them, players swear at them, fans lambast them and the press hammer them. Even some of their former colleagues supplement their income by joining the throng.

How often have you heard people demand both "common sense" and "consistency" in the same sentence? Have a think about that one.

What is actually meant by a referee using common sense? As far I can see it is suggesting that a referee should see each decision within the context of the game; therefore not necessarily applying the absolute letter of the law. For example, we have all heard that a referee has ruined a game by sending off a player too early for a borderline challenge that he could have punished with a yellow card.

I get to spend a considerable chunk of my weekends hanging around in tunnels of various football grounds and almost always end up having a chat with the referees as they arrive. What I am never allowed to do, at least on the record, is to chat after the game.

We do often speak afterwards though. Some of the refs will ask you confidentially what you thought about a decision; some have even asked to have another look at a decision on a TV monitor in a quiet room away from the bustle of the tunnel.

Obviously they do not walk off the pitch absolutely convinced that they have got every single call right. What I am absolutely certain about, though, that no referee who has reached the top of their profession has made a call that they cannot defend given what they saw at the time.

The problem is that 10 people will see a decision 10 different ways. Here's an example from Saturday's game between Chelsea and Sunderland. Fernando Torres was booked after going down in the Sunderland box after a challenge by Phil Bardsley.

Chelsea striker Fernando Torres was booked for simulation on Saturday - but should he have been given a penalty? Photo: Getty Images

My first reaction, as I saw it in real time, was that it looked like a penalty. Then I saw the replay, and I felt that, although there was contact, Torres was ready to fall if Bardsley gave him anything to fall over. The players' knees collided; the question was who was initiating the contact?

In the press room afterwards one of football's most distinguished newspaper men, Patrick Barclay, said that he felt it was not a penalty but that the yellow card for Torres was unnecessary. On Match of the Day that night, Alan Shearer was absolutely convinced that it should have been a penalty. I am still not certain.

My point is clear. There are three different views on the same incident, all formed by reasonable experienced people and with the benefit of replays; which the referee, Phil Dowd, didn't have.

This could take us into a discussion of video replays. I think I'll leave that for another day, aside from saying that I am not in favour.

I would also not be in favour of referees being allowed to talk to the cameras after the game. If they did they might undermine their authority by having to attempt to defend a clear mistake and if they chose not to talk it would be something that would surely be interpreted as an admission of an error.

They are not perfect, but who is? I do think that their fitness tests could be more rigorous, but I passionately believe that our refs are honest and give decisions based only what they see, or think they see.

On the whole they might make fewer errors in 90 minutes than many of the players they are refereeing. And what about the managers who knock them? How many times have you heard those same managers say they didn't even see a major incident?

Now who needs their eyes testing?

It's a game between two sides who it's fair to say are never on each other's Christmas card lists. It promises to be a very feisty affair indeed.

Both clubs' managers make interesting character studies. Nigel Adkins at Southampton is an eloquent and a youthful looking 40-something, who exudes charm.

His approach is all about the team with no room for individuals -- I imagine his sock drawer is as tidy as his tactics -- but he is as good at giving out inspirational titbits as he is at talking technical, and boy can he talk technical.

Southampton manager Nigel Adkins (insert) will be plotting how to beat rivals Portsmouth on Sunday. Photo: Getty  

As many people know, Adkins used to be a physio. So, he will quickly tell you, was Bob Paisley - and it didn't do him any harm.

Maybe it's all the studying he did for those physio exams, but Adkins talks a good game. Scrub that, Adkins talks a great game. In fact, if he wasn't a football manager he'd make a brilliant salesman.

Spend 15 minutes with him and you are eating out of his hand. Above all, he is unfailingly positive and Southampton have thrived under his care.

I actually remember watching Adkins play in goal for my local team Tranmere Rovers, and it turns out we were brought up within a few streets of each other.

As someone who finds it a bit depressing that not only the players but a good number of the managers are now younger than me, I am pleased to say that, as a kid, the Saints boss was more likely to have played against my older brother than me.

Michael Appleton at Portsmouth is a newcomer to management, but worked successfully under Roy Hodgson as first-team coach at West Bromwich Albion and seems to have made an immediate impact at Fratton Park, where few headlines ever seem to involve football.

He treated his first game at Watford as a watching brief and has taken two wins and a draw from the next three, including Pompey's first away win of the season.

With Portsmouth facing more financial uncertainty, Appleton may need all the thick skin he acquired during a long and eventually unsuccessful battle against injury, which ended his playing career when he should have been reaching his peak in his mid-20s.

Now in his mid-30s, he still looks exactly like the intimidating sharp-tackling midfielder who could also lace his game with some delightful touches.

When I met him last week, he was wet from a morning being blown around Pompey's featureless training ground in the rain. But was extremely welcoming, witty and warm nevertheless, while still exuding that sense that here is a guy you do not want to get on the wrong side of.

He has livened up an ageing squad with a couple of good loan signings from the Hawthorns in George Thorne and Joe Mattock, and while the off-the-field mayhem may continue at Portsmouth, he is firmly set on stopping the rot on the pitch. The early signs are good.

Go back another four years and you'll find Rangers' only ever win at Liverpool. It was something of a landmark for them, and one for me too as it was my first broadcast commentary.

I had been working at Capital Radio in London for only a few months and had been thoroughly enjoying my Saturdays in Division Three covering Brentford and Fulham, so it was quite a shock when I was told that I was to be sent to Anfield to provide match updates on the Liverpool game against Rangers.

As a young kid on the Wirral I had been lucky enough to watch Tranmere Rovers play on Friday nights and, occasionally, Liverpool on a Saturday too.

 Liverpool, on the back of a 7-1 win against Derby at the Baseball Ground, took on QPR at home (1991) and lost 3-1 with Jan Molby (centre) scoring their only goal from the penalty spot. Photo: Getty Images

I had waited outside the entrance to Anfield's main stand many times in the hope of getting autographs.

You can imagine that I was pretty wide-eyed as I found myself walking through that same entrance.

I headed up the red-carpeted stairs past the shining glass cases which display some of the minor silverware not important enough to make it into Liverpool's main trophy room.

Walking past the boardroom I made my way outside to the press box overlooking the halfway line.

My seat was on the right-hand end of the row, with Liverpool fans sitting no more than two feet away on the other side of a low wall.

I knew I would have to be careful about where I put the effects microphone we used to pick up the noise of the crowd or there was every chance that those fans would get as much airtime as me.

I was probably looking on a bit wistfully as the crowd sang "You'll Never Walk Alone", having to remind myself that I was there for a London audience. It would be key not to sound too scouse when relaying news of any goals back to London.

Capital Radio had obviously sent me to Anfield expecting a run-of-the-mill home win, otherwise they would have sent one of their more senior reporters. It was a fair assumption - Rangers had never won there in their history.

That was about to change. Les Ferdinand and Roy Wegerle scored to put Rangers 2-0 up at half time. This was turning out to be the big story of the afternoon.

Capital Radio's main commentary match that afternoon was Arsenal's game at Derby, where Alan Smith had given the Gunners a half-time lead.

From the studios in London, our senior producer Pete Simmons warned me to be ready to do lots of updates in the second half to keep Rangers' fans in touch as much as possible.

Liverpool continued to struggle against a QPR side sensing a win which could move them clear of the relegation zone.

Then the referee gave a penalty to Liverpool for handball. I pressed the buzzer on my broadcasting kit which alerted Pete to anything newsworthy.

From Derby, Jonathan Pearce cued me to commentate on the penalty. I kept my composure and so did Jan Molby to score - my first live commentary on a goal. I handed back to Jonathan and took a deep breath.

The game was getting really tense and I would now be a big part of the rest of our programme that afternoon. It was a long way from doing the odd 20-second update from Fulham or Brentford.

At Derby, Jonathan described the action as Alan Smith scored a second for Arsenal to put them 2-0 up. Meanwhile at Anfield, Rangers deservedly got a third goal when Clive Wilson scored for them at the Kop end.

Just to my right, the Liverpool fans had almost had enough. They were practically screaming at their own side's incompetence and my microphone was picking up most of what they had to say.

In my headphones I heard Pete call: "Jonathan's game is dead, I think we should take the last 10 minutes of your game live. Are you up for doing some commentary?"

Looking back, I wonder whether if I had said no, my career would have taken a different course. I didn't have to think twice before I said yes.

For years I had spent every Saturday afternoon and many midweek nights listening to football commentary on the radio, now the people back in London would be listening to me.

In my head I repeated: "London audience, not too scouse. London audience, not too scouse."

The buzz of doing that 10 minutes was amazing. Liverpool were pouring forward desperately, but it was Rangers who came closest to scoring, Bradley Allen's shot beating the Liverpool keeper Mike Hooper but hitting the side-netting.

For a split second I thought it was in: "Allen! Yes, it's four! No! Side-netting!" I must have been doing well with the "London audience, not too scouse" thing.

As the Liverpool keeper took the resulting goal kick, a home fan to my right turned to glare in my direction and shouted straight into the effects microphone so that I and our audience back in London could hear loud and clear: "Get stuffed you cockney idiot!" - or words to that effect!

It was during the first half when Chelsea were awarded a free-kick outside the Liverpool penalty area. Didier Drogba stepped up to take it and his shot whistled a couple of inches past the post, hit the stanchion holding the net in place and then ricocheted to the left to glide along the back of the net from behind the goal.

For the commentators sitting high in the East Stand, it looked like it was nestling in the back of the net from inside the post. We were not alone. The majority of the Chelsea fans not sitting exactly in line with the free-kick were celebrating. It was a second or two before I realised it was not a goal.

Commentators are a pretty paranoid lot so at half-time I, along with some colleagues from TV channels all over the world, were asking each other who had called it as a goal and who had not. Pretty much everybody had made the same mistake, which made all of us feel a lot better.

Well, this takes me back to my last blog when I was describing that one of the things which seems to genuinely surprise some people is that the Match of the Day commentators actually report live on the game from the ground as events unfold in front of them.

One thing not in doubt was that Glen Johnson's strike did hit the back of the net. Photo: Reuters

Some people were not convinced, so allow me to revisit a couple of the replies to that blog:

"What clearly is not a myth is that the commentary heard on Match of the Day is recorded after the game and therefore is with the benefit of hindsight."

And...

"So what if the BBC sends commentators to every game? They just do the interviews. The commentary is done afterwards - at the start of every single game the commentator name-checks some player who will score or get sent off, the same with when a sub comes on. None of them are particularly good at feigning surprise either."

But of course you can never win, someone else posted this:

"This article contains very little insight for anyone sad enough to care about what goes on behind the scenes at MOTD. And anyway, who actually thought the commentators didn't go to these games?"

Well, some people do take a lot of convincing; but just maybe my floundering to work out whether or not Drogba's free-kick was a goal or not (and then furiously talking myself out of the hole I had just dug myself into) will convince the conspiracy theorists that Match of the Day commentators are actually describing the action as it happens from the ground where it happens?

As the old footie song goes: "And now you're gonna believe us ..."

Then again, perhaps I was just double bluffing and actually deliberately made the mistake so it sounded as though the commentary was done at the time, rather than from the warmth of some luxurious studio long after the game finished?

I can dream.

Seriously, though, I do read the comments and appreciate (most of) them - good or bad!

The first is that we are actually at all the games you watch on a Saturday and Sunday night; the second is that our commentary positions are not sumptuous, warm converted executive boxes with a steady supply of finger food and coffee.

The reality is they are often rusty old gantries hanging from the roof of a stand with everything covered in a thick layer of dust and grime pre-dating John Motson's first sheepskin.

When I first joined the TV team back in 2001, not every game was covered as it is now. The games which looked likely to provide the biggest stories were selected to have a commentator on site, while one would be on duty at Television Centre to dub commentary onto whichever game proved to be the best of the rest, and the remaining games and goals were covered in a round-up.

Match of the Day commentary positions vary according to the age of the stadium but, mercifully, they are never indoors as you will often find abroad. There is nothing worse than trying to capture the atmosphere of an occasion when you are stuck behind thick glass in a booth so well sound-proofed that you may as well not be in the ground.

I remember going to Benfica's old Estadio da Luz before it was rebuilt. It was one of the world's greatest stadiums, but the commentary position for Radio 5 live's coverage of a qualifier between Portugal and Ireland came from the very back of the top tier in a brick-built hut with a reinforced glass window at the front. I couldn't hear a murmur of the noise from the 80,000 crowd and may as well have been watching on a giant TV screen hanging from a hot-air balloon.

The same was true in the Parc des Princes in Paris for Arsenal's Cup Winners' Cup final against Real Zaragoza, at Dynamo Kiev's old Olympic Stadium and, for some of the worst commentary positions, you just have to go to the Nou Camp in Barcelona. Whatever the weather, I think every commentator I know would agree - put me outside.

The vast Luzhniki Stadium, Moscow provides a challenge for commentators. Photo: Getty Images

The toughest position I have ever had to work from was in Moscow when England lost to Russia in the Luzhniki Stadium in 2007.

Going to the ground the day before the game to watch Russia's training session we discovered that our position was somewhere behind the corner flag built above the back row of seats right at the top of the huge stand. When you consider the stadium has a gap between the pitch and the running track and then another bigger gap between the track and the front row of seats, I reckon our perch from the very back must have been getting on for 150m from the goal away to our left-hand side. I could tell it would be tough to identify an English goalscorer in any scrambled melee from that distance, let alone a Russian.

What made my mood worse was that Sky TV had managed to get themselves a perfect position right over the halfway line about midway up the stand. I could almost hear what people back in the office would be saying: "How come Martin Tyler called the goal so well on Sky while Wilson was making a prat of himself?"

So it was not only the fear of watching Steve McClaren's team suffer a damaging defeat that was bothering me as I took my place with Mark Lawrenson before kick-off.

The adrenalin was pumping, England could not afford to lose and Russia had to win. I was desperate not to make a mess of such a big game.

The atmosphere as I started commentating on the teams coming out of the tunnel was one of the best I have ever experienced. Smoke, flares, and ear-splitting noise - fantastic. I was just praying that my eyesight would not let me down as I peered through the smoke at the players lining up for the anthems in the far distance.

Then they started unfurling the flag. It started just below our feet in the very back row of the stand filled with thousands of Russian supporters. It was like the longest roll of carpet you have ever seen, stretching from one end of the stadium all the way to the other and was longer than the length of the pitch.

Over the heads of the fans it slowly spread. Down and down it went, revealing the Russian flag with a giant snarling bear in the centre.

Now I like Martin Tyler and have the utmost respect for him as a commentator, but I confess I could not smother my smile as the flag inexorably made its way right over the top of his head and down to the track below. Commentating from underneath Moscow's largest flag - now that's a challenge!

I commentated as Chelsea and Arsenal slugged it out on Saturday, the Gunners won 5-3 at Stamford Bridge, and then watched Spurs take on QPR on Sunday.

It left me wondering whether this may end up being the first season in a long time when Tottenham can genuinely hope to finish as London's top club.

Spurs have been in excellent form and have an awesome midfield. Photo: Getty images

Fifty seasons have come and gone since Bill Nicholson's side completed a glorious double in 1961, when White Hart Lane was unquestionably the home of London's top team. And although this Spurs side are unlikely to match that landmark achievement, they are showing signs of becoming the kings of the capital again.

It's actually 16 seasons since Spurs finished a campaign as the highest placed club in London, but 1994-95 was hardly a vintage year for any of the capital's teams. In fact, Spurs fans probably took more pleasure from seeing their old boy Nayim scored a last-minute winner for Real Zaragoza with a shot from the half-way line against Arsenal in the Cup Winner's Cup final than they did from finishing seventh in the Premier League.

The only other occasion when neither Arsenal nor Chelsea has been London's top side at the end of a Premier League season was when Queens Park Rangers finished fifth in 1992-93.

For the last seven years it's been Chelsea; for the eight before that it was Arsenal.

That's enough history - but it does show just what a major achievement it would be if Tottenham can end up above both their main rivals in London.

Chelsea seem to be entering what Carlo Ancelotti would have called a "difficult moment". The Italian's "moment" lasted from November to January last season and probably cost him his job. Andre Villas-Boas will need to ensure his team's current poor run of results ends at Blackburn on Saturday. Without doubt, it is not just Rovers boss Steve Kean who could do with a win.

Villas-Boas came in to the club insisting that just because he had worked for former Chelsea boss and Portuguese compatriot Jose Mourinho he should not be thought of as a Mourinho mark II. He's right - Chelsea may be attacking a little more freely but they are defending in a way that would have been inconceivable under Mourinho.

The appointment of a manager as young and as inexperienced as the 33-year-old Villas-Boas should have heralded a new era - but Chelsea's midfield is beginning to look distinctly ponderous.

Let's play fantasy football - on current form would any of Chelsea's middle men displace Rafael van der Vaart, Luka Modric, Scott Parker or Gareth Bale from your midfield? Not for me, though Juan Mata would come close.

Meanwhile at Arsenal, Robin van Persie continues look like a footballer of the year in waiting. Arsenal have clearly improved as a team since their awful start to the campaign, but not by leaps and bounds. The major factor in their surge up the table has been Van Persie who, as captain, has led by example.

The problem with Van Persie, his contract negotiations aside, is that he missed three months of last season and six months of the season before. No wonder Arsene Wenger decided not to start with him against Marseille in the Champions League on Tuesday - another long injury absence just does not bear thinking about.

Then there's Spurs. Their achievement in qualifying for last season's Champions League overshadowed just about anything they had done in the previous decade or more.

This season I believe they could go one better. Third place, above both Chelsea and Arsenal, is certainly not beyond them.

No wonder Tottenham fans are praying for a swift return to the dugout for Harry Redknapp.