"Wayne Rooney can go all the way to the top if he keeps his head firmly on the ground."

It's Friday evening at the bar of the Hotel Cornavin in Geneva. On the stools are a red-faced man carrying a tub of hair gel and a beaky-looking chap whose spectacles are steaming up in the humid lakeside air.

"So, Steve, I want to talk to you about Wine."

"Wine? Sure, Sven, what kind - claret, chardonnay, or my favorite, Blue Nun?"

"No, no, Steve. I mean WINE. Wine HROONEY."

"Oh, Wayne! Ah, Sven, why didn't you say so? You know, I can never understand that accent of yours. Like that time in the Euros against France when you put on Vassell and Heskey for Owen and Rooney, and we all thought you were just ordering a pizza. What a laugh that was, eh?"

"Steve, what I mean is, what are we going to do about Wine? If he fights with David again we're finished. I could lose my yob."

"Lose your yob, eh? Er, I mean, no problem, I've got it all taken care of. I told him Sorin was in a gang that's kidnapped his mother and taken her to be a sex slave in Patagonia."

"But I just saw Mrs. Hrooney at the buffet - she was shovelling Vienna sausages into her purse."

"Ah, I told Wayne she'd been replaced by a robot. After I explained what a robot was, he bought it."

"Oh no, then he'll KILL him."

"Could be! That's why I've got a tenner riding on a red card for our boy, with an accumulator for criminal charges. Would you believe I only got 3-1? But old David will be a-okay, in tip-top shape to make another baby with Posh. Maybe they'll name this one Bronx, or Hamlet, or maybe Rodriguez...." (tails off, drunk)

Just in case you can't tell how Sven feels about young Wine Hrooney, you can see a special moment here.

---

And now, to strike fear into the hearts of Scotland, as well as the teams that actually made the World Cup, here is news from across the pond: the United States has its best team ever. For the first time, the US can put a European first-division, first-team player at every position - with some left over. And goshdangit, we even have a more reliable big man up front than England or Argentina.

TDH's first-choice XI:
G Keller (Moenchengladbach)
D Bocanegra (Fulham)
D Spector (Charlton)
D Onyewu (Standard Liege)
D Cherundolo (Hannover 96)
M Beasley (PSV)
M O'Brien (Den Haag)
M Reyna (Manchester City)
M Gibbs (Feyenoord)
F Casey (Mainz)
F McBride (Fulham)

You don't think Liege counts as a real first-division team? Okay, put in Zak Whitbread from Liverpool. He's started in the Champions League and the Carling Cup! TDH swears it!

Anyway, coach Bruce Arena is trying out some US-based players at Hampden Park tomorrow, so not all these names will be in action. But don't be surprised when the Yanks run riot in Germany! Ahem, we won't need tanks this time....