This week a Dublin theatre will open its doors for the premiere of Macbecks, a musical in which the life of David Beckham is set loosely to Shakespeare’s tragedy. If it sounds like a dumbing-down too far, even in this celebrity-obsessed age, there is more on the way, with plans rumoured for a movie that would tell the story of an Essex boy who started out as a glass collector at Walthamstow dog track and ended up playing football for England, marrying a pop star, playing for three of the world’s biggest clubs and hanging out in Beverly Hills as the most famous footballer on earth.

It has been an extraordinary journey, but where will it end as the director looks for the perfect cut-off point? The lavish wedding in the summer of 1999, a few weeks after Beckham won the Champions League with Manchester United? The match-winning penalty against Argentina in the 2002 World Cup, which exorcised his last remaining demon? His debut among the galácticos of Real Madrid in 2003 after his acrimonious departure from United? Or is his crowning glory still to come as, having returned from international exile, he leads England to glory in the 2010 World Cup final?

Beckham, 33, will not give up on the dream. It is one of the aspects of his character that so endears him to his worshippers, who, dazzled by his celebrity, turn a blind eye to the reality of a decline that began even before he left United. But, as he tries to reignite a career that has been burning out for longer than he or they would care to admit, that dream looks distant.

Moving on loan to AC Milan was a welcome gesture as he looked to avoid stagnating in the backwater that is Major League Soccer, but two years have passed since, out of favour at Real and with England, he announced his decision to see out his career with Los Angeles Galaxy, a move that seemed to acknowledge his waning powers.

Does he still have what it takes to make a sustained contribution at the highest level? A welter of evidence suggests not. A certain risk accompanies these words, written before his Serie A debut for Milan against Roma last night, but it is not about whether he can still hit a beautiful 50-yard pass or majestically curl free kicks past a despairing goalkeeper; he will still be able to do that in middle age, just like he remembers Glenn Hoddle doing in England training sessions.

No, it is about fitness. This is a touchy issue for Beckham, who, like almost every other thirtysomething sportsman, responds to questions about a perceived physical decline by insisting that he is as fit as he has ever been. He looks leaner than ever, but that is not quite the same thing.

Beckham’s claims have been backed up by the Milan doctor, Jean-Pierre Meerseeman, who said last week, having examined the player’s cardiovascular readings, that he “could go on for another five or six years”. Yet this is at odds with the evidence on the pitch, where he no longer appears capable of bursts of pace, never mind the lung-busting performances that he produced in his prime (famously clocking up a staggering 16.1km in his finest hour and a half, the World Cup qualifying match against Greece at Old Trafford in 2001).

He could hardly have chosen a better place to prove and to improve his fitness. Not only have Milan’s medical staff helped players such as Cafu and Paolo Maldini to continue playing into their late thirties – beyond his 40th birthday in the case of the remarkable Maldini – but he will be surrounded by players such as Ronaldinho and Andriy Shevchenko, in whose company he can hardly fail to look fit.

But it cannot be enough simply to look fit. Fabio Capello has made clear that Beckham has to be fit enough not just for the odd ten-minute cameo, but to play a meaningful role as England look to move forward.

Since being recalled from international exile by a desperate Steve McClaren in May 2007, Beckham has somehow won another 13 England caps – he set up goals in the first two of them – but these days he is no more than a bit-part player. His past four caps, which have taken him to within one of Bobby Moore’s total of 108, the record for an England outfield player, have been earned with a total of 50 minutes on the pitch. That does not demean his achievement in reaching 107 appearances, but it does raise serious questions about his prospects of adding to that total.

The Milan move could rejuvenate him and breathe a little more life into a flagging career, but it is a career that he seemed intent on curtailing when he signed for the Galaxy, when the Hollywood ending he was looking for had nothing to do with football.

And another thing...

Ronaldo a crashing bore

March 2005: Cristiano Ronaldo loses control of his Porsche Cayenne, which flies through a hedge, down a ten-foot bank and into someone’s garden. He walks away.

December 2007: Ronaldo loses control of his Audi R8, spinning 180 degrees on a roundabout. He walks away.

January 2009: Ronaldo writes off his Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano, two days after taking possession, losing control and crashing in a tunnel near Manchester airport. He walks away.

For anyone who has had the privilege of being overtaken by him on a blind corner near Manchester United’s training ground, news of Ronaldo’s third crash in less than four years was not a surprise. The same applies, you suspect, to Sir Alex Ferguson, who tetchily refused to discuss the matter on Friday. The United manager must bristle every time he sees Ronaldo swerving and screeching out of the car park at Carrington for the 15-mile drive home to Alderley Edge.

Gianluigi Lentini had just become the world’s most expensive player at AC Milan in 1993 when he was seriously injured in a car crash and was never the same again. Ronaldo should think about that. He complains about career-threatening tackles, but what about career-threatening driving? Perhaps he will persuade himself it is the English roads, that it will be different when he finally gets to Spain. Or perhaps, as he ponders his rising insurance costs, he will downgrade to something such as the Suzuki Swift that he used to endorse as a goofy teenager before becoming, shall we say, ever so slightly image-conscious.

Debate: Wenger hits wrong target

Arsène Wenger always said that it would take a particular kind of player to persuade him to spend big money in the transfer market. Most imagined that it would be a young goalkeeper, central defender or defensive midfield player of outstanding potential, a player who could plug one of the gaps in his squad without forcing him to deviate from his vision of a youthful Arsenal team playing wonderful football.

What few imagined was that he would regard Andrei Arshavin, the Zenit St Petersburg and Russia playmaker, as the missing link.

Arshavin, 27, is a wonderful player and it is easy to see how, playing behind Emmanuel Adebayor or Robin van Persie, he might further enrich Arsenal’s attacking play, particularly while Cesc Fàbregas is missing through injury. But, given the flakiness of Arsenal’s goalkeeper, central defence and central midfield, should a playmaker, even such a talented one, really be Wenger’s top priority right now?

The Debate: Is £20 million-rated Arshavin really what Arsenal need?

Clough’s club selection

Sitting in the press room at Pride Park, surrounded by photographs of Derby County’s glory days under his famous father, Nigel Clough said that this was “one club” for whom he would have left Burton Albion. One club, but not the one he had set his heart on. Clough twice applied for the manager’s job at Nottingham Forest and did not get an interview. When the vacancy came up again more recently, he made his interest known to Forest, but, again, no interview. Billy Davies, the former Derby manager, got the nod instead.

That is not to say that Forest, the Coca-Cola Championship side, got the wrong man; Davies is a far more experienced manager at this level and, while Clough’s appointment was greeted with far greater fanfare, his quiet achievements in ten years at Burton would not have earned him a job with such a big club had it not been for his heritage.

But it has left many Forest supporters ruing their club’s reluctance to appoint Son of Brian. No extra spice is needed when the East Midlands rivals meet, but their encounter at Pride Park in the FA Cup fourth round a week on Friday promises to be intriguing, as does the ensuing battle to avoid relegation.

Are they for Real?

Never let it be said that Real Madrid think that they are above the law. Having failed in their risible attempt to register both of their January signings, Lassana Diarra and Klaas-Jan Huntelaar, for the knockout stages of the Champions League – the regulations state that only one player can be registered in such circumstances if they have played in the Uefa Cup – they have demanded a formal review of the case from Uefa’s disciplinary body and are threatening to take the matter to the Court of Arbitration for Sport. Their arrogance is truly breathtaking.

United’s moving account

Strangest deal of the January transfer window? Manchester United’s signing of Ritchie de Laet from Stoke City.

De Laet, 20, is a defender who has never got beyond the substitutes’ bench at Stoke, having previously played for Royal Antwerp, the Belgian club with whom United have what they call a strategic partnership.

United’s official website trumpeted the deal by saying that De Laet “will stay until the end of the 2008-09 season and will play for the reserves”, whereas Stoke claimed that he had signed a three-year contract at Old Trafford. The article on United’s website was subsequently changed, to say that De Laet “will hope to make an impression at United, initially in the reserves”. De Laet says that he is “in shock”. Sir Alex Ferguson, the United manager, says that the deal is “not a big issue”. Move on, folks. Nothing to see here.