Dennis Wise at Newcastle: your questions answered.

What is his new job?
The official title at Newcastle United is executive director (football).

Why would he leave Leeds United for this role?
Wise was certainly doing well in charge at Elland Road. The problem was that, in the end, try as they might, Leeds couldn’t offer him brackets. He was manager, plain and simple. Whereas this is an opportunity to work at a big Premier League club and have some brackets.

What will Wise actually do on a day-to-day basis?
Good question. We know for sure that he’ll be wearing a suit sometimes. We also infer that he will be tasked with keeping across all areas, football-related, within the club - which could mean the youth academy, or which could mean scouting, or which could mean towel dispensers. Are there enough towel dispensers? Are they changed regularly enough? Are the players who use them happy with the towel dispensers? That kind of thing. But I think it’s very much up to Wisey to be proactive and create the role as he sees it.

The one thing we can state with confidence is that, as executive director (football), his job will definitely be to find football-related things and direct them, executively.

Does the appointment of Wise threaten in any way to compromise the authority of Kevin Keegan, the Newcastle manager?
There’s absolutely no question of that. The day-to-day running of the team is Keegan’s domain and some other stuff is Wise’s domain. Frankly, the Messiah will hardly know Wisey is there. He’ll blend in - it’s what he’s good at. And in any case, managing the football team and executively directing the football – these are, obviously, entirely separate matters. Entirely separate.

We hear that Newcastle are to be run “on the continental model”. Has this got anything to do with Bentleys?
No, you’re thinking of West Ham United, who, people sometimes say, give every appearance of being run on “the Bentley Continental model”, with involvement at executive level from Anton Ferdinand.

“On the continental model” traditionally refers to a different, more European-orientated way of doing things.

At clubs run “on the continental model”, work begins at 8am and stops at midday for a lengthy and succulent lunch in a local taverna, involving a glass of wine and lots of animated conversation and laughter. Then everyone at the club walks home slowly and has a nice snooze behind some shutters. Then it’s business again, from 4pm until about 7pm, and at about 9.30pm they all take to the warm streets with their families and dine out, often alfresco, in startlingly child-friendly restaurants.

But does Newcastle really lend itself to the continental model?
Listen, we’ll have none of that patronising “Grim oop North” nonsense about Newcastle here. It’s got Starbucks and everything these days – and, despite what Keegan may try to tell you, theatres. It’s just a bit cold, that’s all.

All right, then. But what about Wise? He doesn’t seem very continental.
Wrong again, you see. True, the feisty former midfield player may have built a reputation for being a set of fireworks in an open box. He must also be one of a very small number of player-managers to have brought themselves off the bench for their debut appearance, only to get sent off four minutes later for a two-footed tackle. (At Millwall, that was.)

But don’t forget the cultured influences he came under at Chelsea, not least that of Ruud Gullit, the Holland legend and former World Player of the Year, who famously endeared himself to Wise early in their relationship by bending over naked in the changing-room and saying: “Wisey, take a look in the mirror.” (Fact.) It simply doesn’t get any more continental than that.

Gullit, of course, went on to take his continental management style to Newcastle United, where . . . We sort of wish we hadn’t mentioned Gullit, now.

I’m trying to understand this Wise appointment, I promise. But I still don’t get it.
You know, sometimes we just have to be prepared to admit that football is confusing and that it contains mysteries that no amount of dispassionate reasoning will unlock. This week, for example, David Beckham opened a soccer skills school in Brazil. We’d apply the phrase “coals to Newcastle” here if we weren’t again worried about seeming to apply an outdated and patronising attitude to that northern city.

The broader point is, in a world in which an Englishman most famous for kicking a dead ball can open a juggling academy outside Cabo São Roque, why wouldn’t Dennis Wise end up in a suit at Newcastle?

It Pop goes chance of Beckham hit with Haircut 100

If we didn’t know it about Fabio Capello before, we do now: the man has a heart of flint. It’s there in his first squad list and his cold-eyed readiness to deny the opportunity for David Beckham to claim his 100th hairstyle.

Instead, the former England captain seems destined to be stuck agonisingly on 99 hairstyles. It also represents, for the incoming manager, a massive PR own goal. It’s clear that a significant portion of the national fan base were ready to applaud that 100th hairstyle on to the Wembley pitch on Wednesday, whatever condition it was in, and then go out the next morning and ask for something similar.

Even if the hairstyle had only come off the bench for the last 20 minutes it would have been something. For heaven’s sake, it’s only Switzerland.

Remember, though: people have written off Beckham’s chances of international hair before, only for the player to bounce back. He may be 32 and playing pub-level football in the United States, but that doesn’t mean his hair has stopped growing. Mark my words, this story may yet have a fairytale ending.

Possibly even a ponytail ending. Why not? It has been a while since he had one of those.

Super! It’s time to tune in and turn on

Break out the pretzels and load up the Buds, it’s Super Bowl time again. Tomorrow, the eyes of the world will turn as one to the Detroit Elasto Dome where, after one of the most hotly contested seasons in gridlock history, the Milwaukee Groan are set to bully off against the Philadelphia Steamhelmets. You don’t need me to tell you that this sportsfest generates a global television audience in the high gazillions. You also don’t need me to tell you that at least some of those people watching actually understand what’s going on.

But it’s not that complicated. George W Bush understands this sport. How difficult can it be? So, make this the year you finally “get” American football with our cut-out-and-keep struggler’s guide to Super Bowl XLII.

Essentially, each team has 2,500 players and shortly after Whitney Houston has . . . Damn. Out of space.