YOU hardly needed to be a visionary to predict the outpouring of emotion once Henry Paul was called into Clive Woodward's England squad.

It is now a rather unpalatable symptom of the yob culture which has invaded sport and taken root within the most base of instincts among 'supporters' of our games.

In a so-called developed country, the suspicious sneering which does our reputation no credit whatsoever, is far from being dismantled.

Indeed, rather than a discouragement of such beliefs, a scan of the Sunday papers revealed an endorsement of values which aim to keep these 'invaders' at arms length. Potentially, Paul is a player of immense worth to England and Woodward has been quick to recognise that. He will not wear the red rose in the short term but is an obvious candidate for future internationals.

That he is a good player, though, seems not to be enough. His appearances for New Zealand Rugby League have consigned him to an England career which will be viewed with utter suspicion. It is the same ugliness which has dogged Lennox Lewis throughout his distinguished career. Great boxer but wrong accent. Great professional but where was his British bulldog spirit?

Lewis has not only been a supreme boxer, in its truest form, but also an ambassador for his country and the sport in times when it's credibility has reached an all-time low.

The press savaging he took after defeat to Hasim Rahman was completely unwarranted and can be put at the same door as the Graeme Hick snipers who never gave the most talented County batsman of the 90s a chance. Greg Rusedski, a character who seems much more appealing than his most English of English colleagues Tim Henman, is rarely given the same backing as the Home Counties tennis star.

And when Sven-Goran Eriksson was appointed England football manager there was the same 'Best of British' mentality which screamed out over the tabloid pages in absolute disgust that the country should ever lower itself to such desecration.

For some reason those voices, which were so loud when the Swede first took the job, have now been drowned out by the deafening cheers following World Cup qualification. It is curious that such suspicions are forgotten once success has been delivered. When these 'fans' stood up and cheered, there must surely have been some soul searching when they came to their senses.

English sport is now open and, indeed, cute enough to embrace foreign talents for help. You wouldn't back against Aussie Rodney Marsh succeeding after being appointed head of the new England cricket academy while it may well have been missed by many, but the success of our Olympian rowers was nurtured by foreign coach Jurgen Gobler.

People may not like it but surely they can see the unadulterated logic of employing someone who can do the job. The key is assessing the hunger to succeed, not whether the CV contains a Made In Britain stamp.

Paul has, of course, crossed two codes with his move to Gloucester. Not only has he the bigots to contend with he has the traditionalists who, presumably, move within the same camps at some stage. But if the former Kiwi helps England to lift the World Cup in 2003 at Stadium Australia, they will be the first to savour victory in the Wallabies' back yard.

It is the senseless double talk which blights not only our sport but also the redundant culture of Britishness. It's about time we were honest with ourselves over this point. We want our teams to succeed - that is the bottom line. Anything else is simply clinging on to beliefs which should have been buried long ago.

The danger now, in such times of heightened racial tension, is that by embracing these views we go down a path to which there is no redemption. To continue to revel in such drivel is a real desecration of sport.