Laurent starts with Blanc canvas

Following their collective act of rebellion at this year's World Cup, new France manager Laurent Blanc has taken the unprecedented step of suspending the entire 23-man French squad for their next game.

Whether the punishment fits the crime is one matter for debate, especially as relationships in the French camp seem to have been strained beyond the players' control, but in my eyes it's a masterstroke from Blanc, who is proving to be as uncompromising a boss as he was a defender.

Not only does it send a clear message to every French footballer to respect and value the chance to play for their country, but it also give Blanc a chance to double the size of his international pool.

International football is riddled with favouritism. Sven Goran Eriksson was consistently accused of playing those players he enjoyed working with at the expense of others in better form, and more recently Fabio Capello, Marcello Lippi and Diego Maradona have been just as guilty.

So taking the chance to give a whole squad of hungry Frenchman a chance to shine and make a name for themselves, safe in the knowledge that there are a bunch of talented, if petulant, individuals waiting in the wings bucks the trend and increases Blanc's options. The likes of Evra, Ribery and Toulalan can no longer take their place for granted and may once again be faced with the honourable prospect of having to prove themselves in order to gain international recognition.

Robinho - will anyone take the risk?

Edinburgh rivalry

Edinburgh is a beautiful city. It is an almost perfect blend of natural and man-made architecture that welcomes visitors from all around the world. In any other city the centre's castle would dominate, but the rock it sits upon is a constant reminder of what was there before the idea of a castle was even conceived. The Scott Monument and the Balmoral Hotel offer picturesque views, but they'd be nothing without the gardens beneath them, formed organically from the lake that ran through the city years before.

The scenery softens the skyline and brings calm to the city, making Edinburgh's people and culture softer, gentler and more sublime than almost any other Western capital. For the theatre-goers and the art lovers, they make for a happy marriage. But for the football fan, it creates an awkward imbalance.

Local rivals are meant to hate one another. It is the eleventh commendment - thou shalt hate thy derby opponents. But Edinburgh lends itself poorly to hate, and its opposing football fans often find it difficult to force the same significant ill-feeling towards one another so easily fermented by their counterparts in the West.

Hearts and Hibs represent both sides of the Edinburgh equation; Hearts are industrious workman-like, built in a steely part of the city where nature's face was demolished and rebuilt for man's profit, while Hibs are cultured, more concerned with style and artistic football played as it is beside the Water Of Leith under the watchful eye of those on top of Calton Hill.

The different approaches consistently collide, but the nature of the people following their teams means neither are represented with too much vim and vigour. There are zealouts who will claim to hate the other side, but the average Edinburgh football fan doesn't feel this deeply about it. If anything, the city has taught them to appreciate both sides.

My grandfather, a Hearts fan, spoke proudly of a time when, hindered by the cost of travel, he would happily watch whoever was at home each weekend, meaning Hearts one week and Hibs the next. When it came to the crunch his heart lay at Tynecastle, but Easter Road was a welcoming second home for someone who simply wanted to spend their Saturday enjoying a game. I see no reason why someone couldn't choose to do the same in Edinburgh now. It might confuse the die-hards, but it would be accepted - if anywhere appreciates the value of combining art with labour, it's Edinburgh.

Fantastic Joe Cole

Ivanhoe!

Emile William Ivanhoe Heskey has retired from the international scene today, so it seems only fair to take this moment to reflect on a career that promised so much, delivered a great deal, yet still received more mockery than respect.

I remember doubting Heskey when he arrived at Liverpool. I thought he lacked experience and he wasn't the big name the fans had wanted to support favourites like Fowler or Owen. But in his first full season he did a great job, scoring 23 goals and playing key roles in winning the cup treble including the FA Cup - the first trophy of merit Liverpool won in almost a decade. He even had a trademark celebration that everyone knew - although no-one really understood the background behind the "DJ spinning decks" move - and, what with Crouch's Robot and Shearer's Heil Hitler, that was all you needed to be a bona-fide striker at the time.

But when the goals dried up, there didn't seem to be an awful lot else in Heskey's game. His managers over the years, and they've included the likes of Martin O'Neill and Gerard Houllier, have consistently defended his abilities to draw defences out of position, create space and provide assists, but fans don't want that from a strapping lad up front - they want Hot Shot Hamish, they want him to kick a ball that knocks defenders out of the way on its way to the top corner, they want the same pace he had when he was 21, and, more than anything, they want goals.

Heskey scored more league goals in that first season with Liverpool than he has in the past three seasons combined. Not only that, but the style and role of the modern striker has overtaken him. Heskey has the perfect physique for the lone striker role, but none of the technique, vision or single-minded focus of the new breed of Drogbas, Rooneys and Torres-es. Even a one trick pony like Jon Carew has proved more adept in the role at Villa and left Heskey picking splinters out of his backside waiting for a call from Fabio.

And now he's removed Fabio from speed-dial and is focusing on his club career. To be fair he has five kids to keep an eye on (indicating that he's still been scoring somewhere over the years) and he's amassed a personal fortune of what is believed to be around £12 million. With that in mind, I don't know if I could be arsed travelling the world just to watch John Terry and Steven Gerrard bicker like school kids every few months. Power to you, Ivanhoe!

Kun Aguero

The second of this summer's big transfer potentials - here's Sergio 'Kun' Aguero bemusing what appears to be half of the Argentinian league. Shame he can't get past Messi, Tevez, Higuain, Milito.....

French kissing in the USA

Thierry Henry is following Golden Balls over to the MLS, leaving the mighty Barcelona for the New York Red Bulls. The strange thing is that, unlike the Beckham transfer, no-one I know seems surprised.

It's the footballing equivalent of cashing in your chips at the casino on the way out, and everyone knows it, not least Henry. He's only 32, a full 4 years younger than Ryan Giggs, and he's won every club trophy UEFA and FIFA have to offer, so it can only be assumed that he's desperate to conquer football in the CONCACACACACAF region.

Of course he doesn't. He couldn't give a hoot. He's made his name and he's taking advantage of it while it's still got kudos. Henry's star was on the wane long before the World Cup. In past seasons he's been known for his devestating pace, artistic vision and deft finishing. Last season he made the headlines for a handball. That says it all really.

Who could blame him though? It's a short career in comparison to many others and the French are never slow to milk a cow, so why should a cash cow be any different. It's more entertaining to consider what other players have reached that stage in their career that it's time to send them to the MLS. Suggestions, please?