Anybody who knows me will know my opinion of Andy Cole. Despite an admittedly spectacular goal-scoring record, despite having played for some of England's finest clubs and despite representing his country on the international stage, I still believe he is one of the worst players in the history of the Premier League.

Nothing against him personally. He is probably a really nice chap. The sort of guy you could happily share a beer or two with while he explains how me managed to enjoy such a long and lucrative career at the top of the game despite being slightly hampered by a complete lack of actual talent.

I am not denying that he has scored some spectacular goals over the years, especially during his days with Manchester United when he couldn't stop scoring.

But, for every 20-yard screamer he put in the back of the net there were at least a dozen missed sitters. For every successful chip over the goalkeeper there were a dozen times he hit the back of the stand. And for every successful volley that nestled in the corner of the net, there were a 100 that came closer to decapitating the linesman.

The fact that he scored so many goals during his top flight career was purely down to the teams he played for. At Old Trafford, for example, any other striker playing in the team during that period would probably have scored triple the goals, such were the number of chances they created.

And, let us not forget, Cole remains and probably always will be, the only player I have ever seen tackle himself. Fact.

It happened while he was playing for England - against Norway if memory serves - as he ran down the wing with the wind in his hair, the ball at his feet and the encouraging shouts of the crowd ringing in his ears.

There was nobody within 10 yards of him as he shaped up to deliver a telling cross. But, at the crucial moment, he managed to wrap his left foot round his right leg, fall over and lay there prone as the ball trickled over the line for a throw-in to the opposition. A throw-in which the Norwegians struggled to take, hampered as they were by tears streaming down their faces.

So what brings this up, I hear you ask? Well, this week Andy was talking about retiring at the end of the season. At the age of 36 his best (worst?) years are behind him and he has been forced to drop down to the Championship to entertain opposition fans these days.

After spells spreading joy and laughter among crowds at Fulham, Manchester City, Blackburn and Sunderland he now finds himself playing for Burnley.

To be fair he has been a bit of a hit at his new club, scoring four goals in two games. But I am fairly sure they came from something like 964 chances.

But my point is that with Andy's demotion to the lower leagues, the top flight is now devoid of its main comedy act. Crap King Cole has been dethroned and the Premier League needs a new player to wear the crown.

Of course, there are plenty of options. Players like Titus Bramble have to consider if only on the basis that his regular and massively entertaining stumbles normally cost his team a goal.

John O'Shea, with his patented air shot, must also be in the running as are others like Zat Knight, Mikkel Forsell and the entire Derby first team.

But I fear they could all be set to miss out on this massively prestigious title because there is a young man coming through the ranks at Arsenal who beats them all hands down - Niklas Bendtner.

I have only seen him play a handful of times but in those brief moments he has shown clear signs that he is ready, willing and extremely able to carry on where Andy left off.

He may score a few but, just like Cole, he misses many, many more. His style of play is different. Cole preferred to hang around in the box looking for opportunities to miss while Bendtner runs around the pitch actively looking to break down his own team's moves.

This is a man who, during the Carling Cup mauling by Spurs, prompted newly arrived substitute Adebayor, to say: "I am only on the pitch because you are so s***". A shining endorsement from the big man.

And on Wednesday night he was thrown on as a late substitute by Arsene Wenger as the Arsenal boss looked to turn the match. Well, Bendtner did turn the match... in Milan's favour. In the 10 minutes he was on the pitch he missed a sitter and spent the rest of the time passing to opponents or getting in Adebayor's way.

And just think about it. Niklas is only 20 and has so much room for improvement. At the moment he doesn't even start regularly for Arsenal, so imagine how many open goals he will be able to miss when he forces his way into the starting line-up.

He is already showing bags of potential and, with dedication, hard work and determination, he could go all the way to the very bottom of the game.

Then, if he can just get Andy to teach him the intricacies of self-tackling, we really will have a worthy heir to the throne...

A real pain in the neck

I turned a blind eye when footballers started wearing gloves. And I just about coped with the disturbing mental image of them wearing tights on the basis it may be for fitness reasons.

However, I absolutely have to draw the line at scarves. Just what exactly is going on with these people? Are they so incredibly pampered that they are scared a little bit of a breeze will kill them?

Although these latest accessories have not yet reached the Premier League, they have certainly found their way on to the necks of Serie A players.

To be honest I have no idea how long this has been going on in Italy but I caught my first glimpse of it during Tuesday's Champions League match between Roma and Real Madrid.

There was glamour boy Francesco Totti, resplendent in a cosy, black scarf complete with club logo. Absolutely ridiculous.

I mean what's next? Umbrellas to keep the rain off their freshly gelled hair? Wellington boots to stop their feet getting all muddy? Overcoats with numbers on the back to keep out the wind?

Quite aside from the fact that this new form of attire is totally unacceptable in terms of image, surely it has to contravene some sort of Fifa regulation.

If you aren't allowed to wear a necklace on the field of play for safety reasons you should not be allowed to wear a piece of cloth wrapped round your neck?

Ultimately there could be something even more sinister at work here. Something even more disturbing than the idea of our footballers being a bunch of pansies - the power of marketing.

As I said, the scarves come complete with club logo and what better way to get millions of gullible children to fork out for a totally unnecessary accessory than to get their stars to wear them on the pitch.

I think it is a bit of both, a combination of players so pampered they need to be wrapped up like babies and clubs only too happy to use this weakness for their own commercial needs.

What is the world of football coming to?

Flogging a dead horse

Despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Richard Scudamore continues to insist that his 39th game proposal is still alive. Opposition to the overseas weekend has now reached fever pitch with some of the bigger clubs joining the FA, Uefa, Fifa and, most importantly, the fans, in blasting the scheme as morally wrong and unworkable.

But Scudamore fights on and will be meeting shortly with Sepp Blatter to try and change his mind before Fifa's council meets to discuss it later this month.

If the Premier League boss continues to insist his way is the right way he will reach a point where he is effectively staking his job on its implementation. And that would be the equivalent of tendering his resignation.

But he needn't worry about being out of work for long - I hear there is a vacancy in the Caribbean he might be interested in filling. Having a passionate belief in a system that is fundamentally wrong and which you stick to no matter how much damage it causes are the main qualifications needed for the post.

Could somebody please book Richard a flight to Havana...

sportscolumnist@timesofmalta.com