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There are undoubtedly many reasons why Everton have struggled so far this season but you could do a lot worse than point to the absence of one player - .

The 34-year-old left at the end of the last campaign after six-and-a-half happy years as an Everton player.

And on the evidence so far Everton's loss has been Birmingham's gain.

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What did you make of the first weekend of the rugby league World Cup? If nothing else, it added grist to the mill of those who believe that there can only be one winner of the tournament - Australia.

One newspaper columnist in Sydney suggested on Monday that if the defending champions beat they might as well send the trophy to the engravers. Given that there would still be a semi-final and the final as well as one more group game left for the Kangaroos, that verdict might seem a little premature. But it has to be said that the contrast between and was stark - and made for alarming viewing for everyone desperate to see the hosts toppled.

The argument goes that if a team other than Australia wins the World Cup it will provide a real shot in the arm to the international game. It's a nice idea, but, on first viewing, doesn't look like coming true. The Kangaroos brushed aside a Kiwis team that many thought would give them a real run for their money.

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Let's start by making one thing clear - I am a massive fan of rugby league. I think it is a brilliant sport - physically challenging yet incredibly skilful and fast - and I have nothing but the utmost respect for the men (and women) who play it.

The problem is that a lot of the people I know aren't really all that keen on the game and seem to regard the forthcoming as little short of a second-rate joke competition.

A few of their thoughts, in no particular order:

The last , both financially and as a competition.

How often do they take place anyway?

What weird format, requiring a post grad in logistics to understand it, is being used this time?

And what about the teams - will it be full of nations that I never knew played the game comprising fifth-rate Aussies, such as Lebanon in 2000?

How many players have changed nationality for this World Cup?

And anyway, only a tiny handful of teams can win it? That is if we're being really generous. Let's be honest it will be a boring one-sided procession for the host nation. No one cares, not even the Aussies - and they are going to romp it.

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The team that won the 1972 Rugby League World Cup are a special group of people - I know this now, though a few weeks ago most of them were just names on a page. Tracking down the side was one of the most enjoyable tasks I have undertaken in a long while.

These 14 heroes (more of that later) of Great Britain remain the last group of men from these shores to win the tournament. But , a final played in front of less than 4,500 people. I knew next to nothing about most of the players, while the information available on the internet was sketchy. Where to start?

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Geoff Horsfield enters hospital today to start treatment for testicular cancer. The striker, who turns 35 at the start of November, and added that it had prompted his immediate retirement from football.

I'd like to take this opportunity to wish Geoff all the best with his recovery and recount a story about him that I was told a few years ago but have never forgotten.

It comes courtesy of , who played the final games of his own career alongside Horsfield - known throughout the game as the Horse - at .

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On Friday night I watched in a League Two fixture at Victoria Road.

Prior to Friday the last match I had seen in London was at Wembley, as in last season's Championship play-off final.

It was a cracking day, especially for my wife, who has shamelessly become increasingly fervent in her support of the Tigers as they have climbed through the divisions.

I like the new Wembley - the architecture, the sheer scale, the arch, the fearsome hand dryers in the toilets that ripple the skin - but watching a match there is almost a clinical process. It lacks the personal touch.

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Their offices are in Rotherham, they train in Doncaster and play in Sheffield. Welcome to the world of .

It hasn't been so much a rollercoaster ride for the Millers in recent years as a spectacular freefall that has twice almost ended in a very terminal crash.

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James Graham might be the but at the sound of the final hooter at the Grand Final at Old Trafford on Saturday he resembled something made of stone.

The prop was motionless, hands on hips in disbelief. His incredible stillness contrasted in the starkest possible way with the celebrations of the Leeds Rhinos players in his immediate vicinity and the thousands of supporters in the stands behind him. He was only dragged out of this most private contemplation of defeat by the arrival of to shake his hand in consolation.

Half an hour or so later I was stood in the corridor outside the two dressing rooms; Saints in the one normally occupied by Manchester United, the Rhinos in the other.

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The one transfer from the Football League that jumped out more than any other before the 1 September deadline was that of .

But the 30-year-old's arrival at Home Park was no rash, last-minute piece of business but rather the conclusion of a long and patient pursuit on the part of Pilgrims boss Paul Sturrock.

The story began, recalls Sturrock, in the Belgian city of Mechelen. It was the late 1990s and Sturrock was the manager of Dundee United. He was over in Belgium on a scouting trip and blown away by two brothers playing for the away team.

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