Ballack's the latest in a long line of German fall guys; GAME ON: THE LAST WORD.

Byline: ALAN POOLE

WHEN I were a lad, in harsher but infinitely more innocent times, national stereotypes provided source material for good-humoured banter rather than prima-facie evidence of institutionalised racism.

Back then, long before the era of interminable European club championships, cross-border recruitment and saturation TV coverage, your average fan rarely if ever laid eyes on a foreign player - but we all knew exactly what they were like.

Englishmen, of course, were the Corinthian epitome of the hard-but-fair game we invented and were gracious enough to share with the world while the Scots, Welsh and Irish were fine fellows in their own way, if a trifle uncouth around the edges.

Germans were robots, grindingly efficient but utterly unimaginative - Italians and Spaniards theatrical spivs who spent the entire match craftily tugging shirts and rolling around in mock agony. The French, to all intents and purposes didn't really play football...

Our front-room window on the 1966 World Cup - while hopelessly narrow and opaque by modern standards - was a revelation, dismantling many of those ingrained myths and introducing us to magicians like Eusebio, Franz Beckenbauer and Lev Yashin.

But, as with all great dramas, it also produced its share of villains and, while Argentinian captain Antonio Rattin is probably the name that lives longest in infamy for home supporters, my personal hate figure was Helmut Haller.

The West German midfielder, whose opener in that legendary Wembley final was his fifth goal of the tournament, certainly looked the Teutonic part - but the blond hair, chunky thighs and jutting jaw belied a repertoire of shameless gamesmanship previously deemed to be the exclusive preserve of histrionic Latins.

Fully four decades on, the enduring image of the '66 runners-up is not the embryonic genius of Beckenbauer, the bustling drive of Uwe Seeler or the assured elegance of Karl-Heinz Schnellinger but Haller planted on his backside, arms outstretched in whining supplication to the referee, after yet another slow-motion tumble.

And, if you'll forgive a fragrantly non-PC observation, they've been at it ever since - generation after generation of Germans who seem genetically programmed to go to ground long before push comes to shove. No wonder they're so good at set-pieces - they get much more practice than anybody else because they spend most of their professional lives conning free- kicks and penalties.

We didn't mind so much with Jurgen Klinsmann. True, he was one of the most brazen exponents of the dark art, but he balanced that flaw because (a) he was a supremely gifted striker, (b) he displayed extraordinary intelligence and charm off the pitch and (c) he had the good taste to sign not once, but twice, for Tottenham Hotspur.

His swallow-dive celebration after scoring on his first Spurs debut was a masterpiece of self-mockery, a wonderfully witty contrast to the arrogant posturing favoured by the likes of Andreas Moller that rubs salt into sneakily inflicted wounds.

Now, let's be honest about this, over the past few years diving has become a pandemic that has infected every nook and cranny of the football world and even that handful of home-bred players still operating in the Premiership aren't above gaining an unfair advantage when an opportunity presents itself.

But the boys from the Bundesliga are not only in a devious class of their own, they always seem so insufferably delighted with their own cleverness when they get away with it.

Witness Michael Ballack's smug reaction on Wednesday night when he didn't so much take a dive as a running jump to earn Bayern Munich the last-minute penalty that slashed Chelsea's first-leg advantage to 4-2.

Afterwards, he even had the brass neck to insist that it was a legitimate award, adding insult to injury by smirking that he has transformed Tuesday's return from Mission Impossible to You Never Know.

What you are 100 per cent safe in assuming is that, at some stage of the proceedings, he will collapse like a shot rabbit in the penalty area. And if the referee proves as gullible as Rene Timmink at Stamford Bridge, you can chalk up another triumph for German ingenuity and smile at the quaint old notion that cheats never prosper.

A word to the wise, Mourinho

THE mystery of what, if anything, Rui Faria was keeping under his hat on Wednesday night added a delightful dose of slapstick to the melodrama that has dogged Chelsea's European adventures this season. And, whatever their suspicions, UEFA will make themselves look utterly ridiculous if they pursue the matter and attempt to prove that Jose Mourinho (left) was beaming in surreptitious messages to his coaching staff.

The Stamford Bridge boss was banned from the match, after all, because he accused Barcelona's Frank Rijkaard of bending Anders Frisk's ear at half-time during last month's match at the Nou Camp - a fact that has now been confirmed by the referee and a UEFA official.

True, Mourinho initially claimed he had witnessed the conversation in the referee's dressing room and later admitted that two of his assistants told him they had seen it in the corridor outside.

But truth and justice are not always exactly the same thing and there is now little doubt that honest Jose has firmly reclaimed the moral high ground.

QUOTES OF THE WEEK

WE are in a results business, so Stuart Pearce being a jolly old boy won't keep me in a job - Manchester City's caretaker manager.

HE just suddenly turned round, looked me straight in the eye and said: 'If you ever do anything like this again I will bin you' - Kieron Dyer tells of a trip to the police station with Graeme Souness.

WE were not fast enough, and we were lucky that Liverpool had only three chances and scored just two goals - Juventus coach Fabio Capello admits his side were lucky just to lose 2-1.

WHEN I cancelled everything, what was I going to do - sit home every day? The idea got in my head that I could play. At least once more - Jack Nicklaus on his decision to play in his 45th Masters after his 17-month- old grandson Jake drowned last month.

I DON'T want to take anything away from what Chelsea have achieved on the pitch as the players and the staff have done a tremendous job. They've been very efficient and hungry. But every club has its values and I would like to hear a voice at Chelsea come out and say what they really want to be in England and how they want to behave - Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger after calling on Chelsea owner Roman Abramovich to give the Stamford Bridge club some moral leadership.

LAST week, I felt like retiring. After this win and this fantastic occasion, I feel like playing on forever - Leicester captain Martin Johnson after the Tigers' Heineken Cup win over Leinster.

THE fat lady hasn't started to sing yet, but she has a mic in her hand - QPR manager Ian Holloway admits his side's play-off chances are virtually over after they could only draw 1-1 with relegation-threatened Gillingham.

THE VERY LAST WORD

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CAPTION(S):

GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS: Michael Ballack strikes a characteristic pose