Liverpool's Clever Trick and Salah's Non-Dig Explained

The World Cup brings out the best in football. It also drags some of the strangest stories onto the front page.

Wonderwall, Again

‘Noel Gallagher backs Sun’s campaign to make Wonderwall England’s official World Cup anthem after “magical” singalong.’

Of course he does. Noel Gallagher backing Wonderwall is not news; Noel Gallagher not backing Wonderwall would be news. The quote behind the “exclusive” is painfully tame: Wonderwall “belongs to the people”, the singalong was “magical”, and “best of luck” to the travelling fans. That’s not a campaign. That’s a polite nod while he gets on with his day.

To pad it out, the piece leans on celebrity backing. Or something close to it.

• Rob Rinder: “If our boys are going to bring football home, let’s give them a song that belongs to all of us!”
• Olly Murs: “The players are singing it, the fans are singing it…we need an official England Wonderwall video!”

If that’s the celebrity cavalry, the bandwagon is running on fumes. When the supporting cast is a TV judge and a pop singer, it feels less like a movement and more like a WhatsApp group that got two replies.

England’s Slushie Saga

The actual “exclusive” from The Sun comes from Tom Barclay in Kansas: England have slushie machines at their training base.

Not tactical tweaks. Not injury updates. Slushies.

We’re even given a helpful explainer on what a slushie is – crushed ice, flavoured syrup, electrolytes for recovery – as if anyone who has ever been near a seaside arcade or a petrol station needs that detail. The piece then descends into forensic coverage of flavours at the Swope Soccer Village: blue blueberry, red raspberry and a mysterious green one “believed to be either apple or lime”.

Believed to be. As if this is state secrecy, not a drinks machine. Someone could just ask.

Every day, the squad are greeted by new pun-heavy names for the drinks. “Jordan Ice Pickford”. “Ice, Rice Baby”. “Freeze James”. “Jarell Thirst Quencher”. Then “Dan Brrrrrrn”, “Eberrrrrechi Eze”, “Ice Lolly Watkins”, “Marcus Rashberry”, “Cold Trafford” for James Trafford, and “Bluekayo Saka” because, well, the drink was blue.

It reads like a competition in the canteen that accidentally made it into print. England’s preparations are always scrutinised, but we’ve reached the point where the slushie menu is getting more space than the midfield balance.

The Mo Salah ‘Dig’ That Wasn’t

Over to the Daily Mirror’s website, where the tone shifts and the stakes rise.

“Egypt manager breaks down in tears and makes sly Mo Salah dig after World Cup heroics.”

The context is huge for Egypt: their first ever World Cup win, Salah becoming the country’s record scorer at the tournament. Emotion was inevitable. Hossam Hassan did indeed break down in tears.

The headline, though, leans on the idea of a “sly Mo Salah dig”. The story itself concedes that the criticism is not aimed at Salah at all, but at how previous coaches have used him – “a dig, seemingly, at the mishandling of Liverpool icon Mohamed Salah,” and “towards some of the tacticians that have had Salah at their disposal”.

So not a dig at Salah. A defence of him, if anything. The kind of nuance that gets quietly buried once the headline is written.

On the pitch, Salah is rewriting his country’s history. Off it, he remains a convenient hook for traffic.

Liverpool’s ‘Significant Sum’

Liverpool, we’re told by the Daily Express website, have pulled off another masterstroke.

“Liverpool’s clever transfer trick pays off as medical takes place today.”

The promise is grand: a “clever transfer trick” that will help them “bank a significant sum” and, by implication, push them closer to targets like Yan Diomande.

The reality is more modest. Bobby Clark is joining Derby for £6m. Liverpool inserted a 17.5 per cent sell-on clause in the deal that took him there, so they will receive just over £1m.

Smart business? Yes. Liverpool have long been adept at structuring deals to claw value from the fringes of their squad. “Significant sum” in the current market? That’s stretching the language. The same piece eventually admits it: “While not a huge amount of money in the grand scheme of things, it will represent a welcome boost for Liverpool as they go in search of reinforcements in the summer market.”

One-hundredth of a Diomande, perhaps. Useful, but hardly the kind of windfall that reshapes a transfer window.

Lineker vs the Beeb

The Sun’s website then takes aim at the so‑called “podcast war”.

“BBC have last laugh as ratings in podcast war vs Gary Lineker revealed.”

The numbers are dressed up as a victory. Football Daily has hit a peak of nearly 250,000 daily streams, with episodes “regularly bringing in more than 100,000 viewers on iPlayer alone”. Impressive reach for a long-running BBC product with a huge in‑house platform.

Lineker, meanwhile, is hardly licking his wounds. A £14m Netflix deal, a stint in New York, a show built around talking football with his friends and over 100,000 daily viewers. If this is defeat, most broadcasters would take it.

The “last laugh” framing feels forced. Two different platforms, two different models, both drawing six-figure audiences. That’s not a war. It’s a crowded, thriving market.

Neville on Maguire

Finally, The Times gives Phil Neville the stage.

“Phil Neville: Harry Maguire couldn’t play in this side – Tuchel was right to ditch him.”

The standfirst underlines the point: England’s head coach wants only fast, athletic centre-backs who can defend one-on-one, unlike Manchester United, who sit compact and counter.

The logic is clear. The modern game demands defenders who can sprint, cover huge spaces and live without the safety net of a deep block. Neville argues that Maguire does not fit that template, and that Tuchel made the right call in moving away from him.

Then you look at the actual names. Dan Burn. John Stones. Excellent defenders, but hardly archetypal sprinters. The picture is more complicated than the soundbite. England’s back line is a blend of profiles, not a pure track team.

That, in many ways, sums up this whole week of coverage. Bold headlines, big claims, and when you scratch beneath the surface, a very different story: slushies dressed as exclusives, a Salah “dig” that defends him, a “significant” Liverpool windfall that barely dents an elite transfer fee.

The football is dramatic enough. The question is whether the coverage can keep up without needing a pun and a punchline for every single drink, deal and tear.