THOSE whom sports writers most despise, they first overrate. That is why the passing of David Beckham has been greeted with such glee. Apparently he’s no good, he never was any good, his flaws were always more numerous than his virtues and, now he’s gone, England, unencumbered, can get on with the usual job of winning a trophy every couple of years.

In all forms of history, the revisionists and rewriters are always at work. But sporting history happens so fast that we can actually catch them at their work. Still, at least we know that Steve McClaren, the new England head coach, is aware how to please the media. Give ’em what they want! A 100 per cent win record may be harder to deliver, but Beckham’s dismissal from the England set-up has given huge pleasure to the I-told-you-so brigade.

It is my belief, however, that even in sport, we should make judgments based on history as it happened rather than history as it is rewritten. Under Beckham’s captaincy, England qualified for three tournaments and reached the quarter-finals of each one. That is a good record. Many leading footballing countries would envy it, Argentina and Spain for starters. It is not, however, a great record. Good but not great — that is true of England’s recent record; that is true of Beckham’s career as England captain.

Beckham had the audacity to seek greatness. He also had the temerity to fail. England under Beckham did the same thing. Beckham (and England) were good enough to get three parts of the way there, but lacked what it takes to complete the last steps.

If we — sports writers, spectators and all — had hoped for more, it is unfair to blame Beckham for our disappointment. But blaming is one of football’s most important pleasures, so Beckham must cop the lot.

Beckham’s entire nature is now spoken of with a weary disgust. At last, everyone implies, we have a real man for captain in John Terry. In truth, Beckham showed us very vividly that such “feminine” qualities as sobriety, decency, gentleness, concern for personal appearance and an often-professed devotion to his spouse and the children do not compromise a warrior-like zest for the contest.

We remember the highlights, of course: Beckham’s extraordinary performance against Greece in the final 2002 World Cup qualifier, in which he played every single position in a four-man midfield all at once, then scored the injury-time free kick that took England to Japan and South Korea; Beckham’s shot-at-redemption penalty against Argentina in Sapporo.

But the abiding memory is of disappointment. Beckham, and Beckham’s England, had enough talent to raise our hopes, but not — quite — enough to fulfil them. Me, I reckon that trying for glory and failing is at least better than settling for mediocrity.

Beckham, and Beckham’s England, were first class. But, as I’ve said before, they were first class of the second class. Oh yes, absolutely the best kind of second class. And really, he and they should have won Euro 2004. Alas, they failed because of Beckham’s two failures from the penalty spot. The one he missed in the defeat by France would have given England a 2-0 lead; the one he missed in the quarter-final penalty shoot-out against Portugal set England on the road to elimination.

England did not fail because of Beckham’s hankering after glory or because he loved being captain so much, or because he wanted too much to be centre stage or because he was a gay icon, or because he was a marketing man’s dream or because he played the star with over-much conviction. Beckham failed because, in the end, he lacked the ability to go from very good to great.

He was always blood-brother to Tim Henman. After all, they both shot into public consciousness in 1996 for an astonishing achievement at Wimbledon.

Both had their chance of greatness, both lacked the crucial extra thing you need to claim it. Both seemed to have it in them to reach the summit, both were undone by the lack of a head for heights.

So it goes. Let us salute them for making the attempt, commiserate with them for failing to make the final pitch, and move on.

To blame them for failing is merely to blame ourselves for hoping. And in truth, the journey has been a good one. Solid and strong in the qualifiers, one up against Brazil and the World Cup was within our grasp. One up and a penalty given against France, and all Europe was ours.

But Beckham failed. Well, better to try for greatness and fail than to side with the sneerers and the mockers. Me, I salute Beckham and the Beckham years. It’s been fun. In fact, it’s been great. Almost.