IT IS easy to understand the strident call for a British manager of our national football team following the deplorable antics of the present foreign incumbent, but when one looks at the list of candidates being thrust forward it must make even xenophobes have second thoughts.

Out of the motley list of names, whose credentials are being examined for the top job in English football, not one has the stature, charisma, experience or record of success required for the role.

When the near-forgotten name of Gerry Francis was this week thrown into the ring I half expected Dario Gradi to be the next to get an honourable mention.

After all, he has produced a series of top-name footballers from his Gresty Road nursery and achieved the near-impossible job of keeping Crewe in the Championship (thus far) on a shoestring.

Hardly qualifications for the exalted position on offer. But has Francis, admittedly a former England captain, produced anything significantly better as a coach?

The leading candidate currently is Ulsterman Martin O'Neill, who enjoyed some success with Leicester and even more in the two-horse race in Scotland.

His manic enthusiasm and intelligence make Cool Sven resemble a defector from Madame Tussauds, but the regrettable long illness of his wife that has kept him out of the game for a long spell is hardly likely to allow O'Neill to give the job his full commitment.

Then there is Steve McClaren, who regained a little self-respect by masterminding the defeat of Chelsea on Saturday, yet has had his man-management skills questioned at Middlesbrough in their recent struggles.

His association with the current England set-up cannot do him any favours and he is far from the most inspirational personality in the game.

Sam Allardyce has worked wonders with a cosmopolitan crew at Bolton and has many supporters, but dealing with a multi-national mix of old campaigners is a far cry from controlling and winning the respect of a group of multi-millionaire superstars who might just have won the World Cup when he arrives on the scene.

Charlton's Alan Curbishley is a nice guy, extremely able and a shrewd tactician, but his only claim to fame is keeping a modest club in the Premiership, and he could well be out of his depth given the responsibility of the toughest and most intensely scrutinised position in world soccer.

Nothing needs to be said of the credentials of City's Stuart Pearce - he has said it all himself.

Certainly one for the future - yet his "ludicrous, pathetic and pie in the sky" assessment of the possibility of him getting the job he would one day die for is commendably realistic.

All the above will no doubt be interviewed by the FA's three-man selection committee and maybe one of them will be tossed into the cauldron.

That, though, would be the act of desperate men. Surely they must look further afield for the man to lead one of the finest groups of England players for a generation.

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