I’ve always been a Gareth fan, simply because the Gareths of this world need us. Young people aren’t called Gareth anymore; it’s all Phaedra and Boo and Gambarzio, but in the old days your name pretty much dictated your life — you grew into it. So Petes and Pauls and Steves were all good, Ryans and Garys were cool, and Gareths and Brians and Martins were mild-mannered and pretty geeky.
Gareth Southgate, right, fulfilled this of course with his managerial style, but observing him I always liked the way he defied his name fate. There were the natty waistcoats at the World Cup, recently dropped for straight-up Garethy white polos at the Euros, but still the man had an eye for style.
