The only thing that the Japanese and English national teams had in common of late was the fact that the head coach of both sides was Italian.

While the Samurai Blue have gone from strength to strength under Alberto Zaccheroni and firmly established themselves as Asia’s top side, England have trudged from mediocre display to scandal and back again on Fabio Capello’s watch.

At the start of the month the former AC Milan and Real Madrid coach finally decided that enough was enough and handed in his resignation.

The reason he gave for his departure was the FA’s decision to strip John Terry of the captaincy because of his upcoming trial for allegedly racially abusing Anton Ferdinand – younger brother of Terry’s long-time central-defensive partner for England, Rio.

Capello claimed to be angry that the resolution was made without his approval and quit on principle. At the time of writing that means the Three Lions have neither a manager or a captain, with the European Championships just four months away – although Spurs boss Harry Redknapp is clear favourite to take over in the role that Sir Alex Ferguson has described as a ‘poisoned chalice’.

There have been suggestions that Capello merely used the latest furore concerning the Chelsea defender as an excuse to escape, with players, fans and the media never taking to his dictatorial approach and frequently bemoaning his basic grasp of English.

I for one wouldn’t particularly blame him if that was the case, and think that this last complaint in particular  nicely sums up the malaise surrounding English football.

As much talk as there is about the game developing and opening up to different ways of thinking it is still a very rigid institution which, when combined with the huge egos of many of the members of the national team and the bitter rivalries that exist between the teammates’ clubs, shows very little sign of improving anytime soon.

Last time I checked, Alberto Zaccheroni doesn’t speak Japanese, but a very different culture here means that has never become an issue – nor should it.

At the end of last year I was interviewed by the TV show ‘Foot!’, and was asked what my thoughts were concerning the future of the Japanese national team.

I answered then, and stand by the claim, that I can see the side going on to become better than my nation in the next three or four World Cups.

The reasons for this are threefold: Firstly, the professional game here has the huge benefit of still being incredibly young. In the early stages of development improvement can be made on a steeper incline than a country which has a long history – as former Shimizu S-Pulse and Kashiwa Reysol coach Steve Perryman once explained to me.

“If you’re managing the Brazil national team, to improve them 1% is very difficult,” he said.

“Because of where Japan have come from they can improve 7, 8%, or 10%. There’s an improvement gap to go into and they are the best people to find it. And the other people aren’t getting away from them, they’re coming closer all the time.”

Secondly, the structure of youth development here is fantastic and the organisation and facilities for aspiring players are superb.

Finally – and most importantly – Japanese culture encourages the desire to learn, and players here are ready, willing and able to pick up ideas from coaches and teammates from all over the world.

English football, on the other hand, has a long and distinguished history which certainly brings added pressure – and, according to Perryman’s theory, less room for improvement.

Add to this a fairly basic and inflexible approach to the youth game, and a generation of players whose main principles are centred around “getting stuck in” and the lack of progression doesn’t look so surprising.

With that in mind, perhaps a more ‘old-school’ style coach like Redknapp is better suited to the position, and may earn respect more readily from the players.

Quite whether such an attitude is for the best in the long run is certainly up for debate though.

Temporary improvement may take place, but until longer-term changes are made Japan will keep edging closer and closer – and may soon overtake.

What it means to be a fan differs from country to country and person to person.

To some the title must be earned through years of dedication to the cause, travelling far and wide to cheer their team on through thick and thin.

Others, meanwhile, treat it more as a commodity; they buy their ticket, replica kit or scarf and instantly earn the right to share in the glories or boo through the bad times as they see fit.

Essentially though, fans are free to support their team however they choose.

Japanese supporters are often cited as being among the best in the world, providing a colourful, vibrant and vocal background to matches involving domestic sides and the national team.

As well as turning out in well-organised numbers – the J.League records impressively large crowds, with J1 averaging over 15,000 in the 2011 season – the nation’s supporters are also frequently held up as an example to the more aggressive fans elsewhere in the world. Unsavoury incidents are kept to a, fairly tame, minimum.

This is all well and good. Sometimes, though, a bit of an edge can really add to the atmosphere.

Nobody wants to see violence in the stands, of course, and it is crucial that stadiums are family-friendly – especially in countries like Japan where the creation of new supporters is vital to the continued development of the game.

However, friction, antagonism and humour are a staple of all the biggest football rivalries – think Liverpool and Manchester United, Barcelona and Real Madrid. Often the atmosphere in the stadium and repartee between those sets of opposing fans is as highly-anticipated as the clash out on the pitch.

An engagement with on-field events enables the behaviour of those fans to ebb-and-flow with the game, and in turn the activity in the stands can affect the players (positively or negatively).

However, this requires spontaneity; something that is all-too-often lacking in Japanese stadia.

Instead of giving in to their emotions and allowing themselves to get caught up in the game many Japanese fans prefer a far more stable, almost robotic, style.

Whether their team is 3-0 ahead or 3-0 behind the same tried-and-tested chants and choreographed routines are churned out, with any passion being kept firmly in time with the fan leader’s instructions.

The order and hierarchy that typify Japanese society should be left at the turnstile though.

Fans should not be required to comply with sets of rules concerning how to support and when to sing which song. They should be allowed to throw themselves into the game and let themselves be carried along – or not, sometimes silence can be just as, if not more, powerful than chanting – by the game.

If your team is not playing well and you fancy a sit down and a bit of a whinge, then go ahead.

Further to this, a little bit of baiting of the opposition wouldn’t go amiss.

Japanese fans are so focused on sticking to the performance and cheering on their own team that they seemingly forget there is an opponent there to be beaten.

Supporting your players can certainly help in that aim, but why not create an intimidating arena for the opposition?

There are often half-hearted boos as the opposing team line-up is read out, but once the game has kicked off any goading of rival players appears to be strictly off limits.

Kashiwa Reysol offer one exception, with their fans utilising their close proximity to the pitch to great effect whenever an opponent strays too close – but they are almost unique in that respect.

Urawa Reds traditionally has a similar reputation, but their plummet down the table seems to have left their fans with more important things on their mind of late.

The authorities have certainly not helped in this respect, with sporadic instances of rival-baiting being heavily clamped down on – Urawa and Gamba Osaka have both been punished for ‘inappropriate’ banners in recent seasons.

Quite why they have felt the need to do this is something of a mystery to me, and allowing for a slightly more heated atmosphere in the stadiums could give the J.League – which is improving every year – yet another boost.

It is always interesting to look at the new squads as they take shape ahead of the season kick-off, and this year is no exception.

Some clubs have recruited very well, and Vissel Kobe signing Takuya Nozawa, Hideo Hashimoto, Yuzo Tashiro and Masahiko Inoha looks like particularly good business.

Some individual transfers stand out too. Shoki Hirai’s loan move to Albirex Niigata could well reignite a promising career that has stalled of late, and the returns of Tomoaki Makino and Yuki Abe to Japan with Urawa Reds also whet the appetite.

One thing which I am less than thrilled about, though, is the depressingly formulaic way in which the majority of clubs have gone about filling their four available foreigner slots.

As per-usual the bulk of these places are taken up by Brazilians or Koreans – plus a handful of Australians – with existing relationships and a lack of imagination preventing anything more adventurous taking place.

Freddie Ljungberg, Mihael Mikic, Calvin Jong-a-pin, Danilson and Ranko Despotovic are the only foreign players not to come from the usual places, and at a time when more and more Japanese players are heading off to Europe I struggle to understand why traffic isn’t coming the other way.

 I frequently ask officials at J.League clubs why efforts aren’t made to bring in English, Spanish, Italian, German or French players – either youngsters looking to develop or veterans to pass on some experience – and am repeatedly told that money is the issue.

Sorry, but I’m not buying that (no pun intended).

Sure, top Premier League or La Liga players (or even crap ones) are never going to be viable options, but picking up a decent centre back from Serie B or a seasoned striker from Ligue 1 is surely not beyond the realms of possibility?

Don’t get me wrong, there have been – and still are, Leandro Domingues and Jorge Wagner were sensational for champions Reysol last year – some excellent Brazilian players in the J.League, while there is also an impressive list of Koreans who have enjoyed great success here.

However, remember Carlao? Or Max? How about Tartar? Anderson? Rogerinho? Hugo? Roger?

All of them were on the books at J1 clubs last season. All of them achieved as much as I did on a J.League pitch last season (some of them managing as many minutes out there as I did).

Are you seriously telling me that a player from the Championship in England or the Dutch Eredivisie would constitute more of a gamble? Of course they wouldn’t. The problem they do have, though, is that they are not represented by the agents who appear to have a fairly cosy monopoly over transfers into the J.League.

Last year I watched one match and genuinely laughed out loud at the appearance of one Brazilian on the pitch. I honestly doubted whether he was a footballer, and couldn’t believe he was in possession of a pair of boots, let alone a professional contract.

Having asked around a little I discovered his arrival in Japan had been facilitated as part of a deal involving another of his countrymen: a buy-one-get-one-free (or one-and-a-half-free, he was a big lad), if you like. Such a set-up between clubs and agents is only healthy for one party, and that is certainly not the club.

A prime example comes with the rapid return of Juninho to the J.League, a matter of weeks after it looked like he had bade farewell.

The 34-year-old enjoyed a fantastic nine years with Kawasaki Frontale and seems to genuinely have an affinity with Japan (although I did feel he should have stuck around for the Emperor’s Cup before he left).

Last season he was a shadow of his former self though, with injuries and age taking their unfortunate toll on his game. It looked like his time was up.

Then, all of a sudden, he was back. And with one of the biggest clubs, too. The re-arrival of Marquinhos is similarly surprising.

Are clubs’ scouting networks really so poor that they can’t find anybody better than a couple of journeyman?

Sadly, perhaps yes, they are. Or perhaps club officials are just not strong enough to say no to those who are offering the players.

Keisuke Honda has become something of a forgotten man of late.

Injury, the increasing amount of success being enjoyed by his compatriots in Europe, and the large contract he is stuck on at CSKA Moscow have all combined to shift the player – who after his move to and success at VVV Venlo was seen as something of a trailblazer for Japanese football, and just 18 months ago was undoubtedly the hottest Japanese property going – to the margins somewhat.

Every transfer window rumours circulate linking him to some of the biggest clubs in Europe, yet nothing ever materialises.

Whether many of these stories have cropped up as a result of genuine interest from the sides involved or because of clever manoeuvring on the part of Honda and his representatives is certainly open to debate, although the most recent fiasco involving Lazio did look to be a done deal.

In the end the two clubs could not agree on a fee though – he is only halfway through a four year contract so CSKA have no pressing need to sell – and, as he himself predicted, the move fell through right at the death.

“In modern football, anything can happen at the last moment,” Russian news network RT reported Honda as having told Sports Nippon a couple of days ahead of the deadline. “But my desire is clear – I want to play in the Italian championship.”

He won’t be getting to do that any time soon, and although a huge clash against Real Madrid this month will soften the blow a little, he must privately be seething to still be snowed in in Russia.

While the initial feelings will be of regret, this latest failure to change clubs may not be the end of the world though, and it still leaves the door open for him to join Liverpool – a club at which I believe he could become a big success.

It had long been assumed that Honda’s next progression would be to Merseyside, and it is a transfer that would make a lot of sense.

He has made under 50 appearances in his two years with CSKA and needs to be playing regularly and at a higher level if he wants to reach his full potential.

Liverpool, like Lazio, are a big club who would constitute a step up, without being at the very top level where competition for places is too fierce.

At the very best clubs he would in no way be guaranteed minutes, or even a place on an expensively-assembled bench. Too much time on the sidelines at this stage of his career would be a poor move to make. Especially as more and more of his Japanese teammates continue to move up through the gears.

He thrives as the main man in the team, and needs the play to be built up around him if his teammates are to fully benefit from his abilities.

His presence and strength at holding the ball up, as well as his fantastic awareness and ability to pick out a pass would be a welcome addition to Kenny Dalglish’s side, who need a focal point with £35 million man Andy Carroll misfiring after his big money move this time last year.

Honda rarely, if ever, shows any nerves out on the pitch, and would be unlikely to experience any such stage-fright at Anfield. He is supremely confident in his own ability – almost to the point of arrogance – and would thrive on the pressure of playing in front of the Kop.

He also speaks excellent English – perhaps even better than the Geordie Carroll – which would help him to quickly settle.

The 25-year-old has the potential to link up superbly with Steven Gerrard, while his measured and studious approach would be perfectly complemented by the more lively styles of the likes of Luis Suarez and Craig Bellamy.

Of course, whether Dalglish would be willing to admit defeat with regards to Carroll and be able to convince his bosses that Honda is worth another substantial outlay in the summer is unknown.

If he could then this latest hiccup may well prove to be a blessing in disguise for Honda though, and he may not have to wait too much longer to be back in the limelight.

Since the 2010 World Cup finals Japanese players have become – rather like Luis Vuitton handbags for the nation’s women – a must-have accessory for many European clubs.

Inter Milan, Bayern Munich and Arsenal are three of the biggest sides to have picked up bargains, in Yuto Nagatomo, Takashi Usami and Ryo Miyaichi. Others, including Shinji Kagawa and Atsuto Uchida, have developed into regulars at their new teams, and enjoyed great success in their domestic divisions and the Champions League.

While several have been able to make the step-up with relative ease, however, many more have seen their progress grind to something of a halt overseas.

Among those whose stories have been far from idyllic are Eiji Kawashima, who is languishing near the bottom of the Belgian First Division for the second consecutive season with Lierse, Kisho Yano, who struggled for minutes at Freiburg and is desperately seeking a transfer, and Tomoaki Makino (Koln), Yuki Abe (Leicester City) and Masahiko Inoha (Hajduk Split), all three of whom have already moved on – the former pair back to Japan with Urawa.

The reality of living and working overseas is not the same as the idea of it – particularly for Japanese players.

Japan, like England, is an island country and thus fairly inward-looking. Foreign travel is far from the norm here – and when people do venture abroad it is usually as part of carefully planned, all-Japanese tour groups – and the level of English is among the worst in the world.

When players who are used to being wrapped in cotton wool back home are suddenly thrust into a completely alien environment, then, it can be difficult.

Further to this, with the level of the J.League constantly increasing, a move to a different country may not always be the best option.

I spoke to Sanfrecce Hiroshima’s winger Mihael Mikic shortly after Inoha had sealed his move to Hajduk Split last July, and the Croatian couldn’t believe the Japan international had made such a choice.

“I cannot understand that Inoha from Kashima Antlers is going to go to Hajduk Split in Croatia. This I cannot understand,” he said.

“You know the Croatian League has only one good team; that is Dinamo Zagreb. Dinamo Zagreb for the last six years is the champion. All the other teams are not a high level, you know? But maybe he’s thinking something. Somebody from Europe will see him,” he continued.

“But I think now, in this moment, he has a better chance if he stays and then goes to a team in Germany or Italy or Holland.”

The apparent desperation of players to head overseas in an anywhere-will-do style can come off and provide a great life-experience, but playing-wise it can backfire, and such a plunge should not be taken lightly.

“[They] must make the choice of a good league; Bundesliga, Serie A, Spanish league, England or Italy,” Mikic went on to explain.

“These five leagues, or France or Holland – that is also ok. In Russia the fight for the six top teams is also good, but now another country in Europe? That is not a good choice. That is my opinion.” 

His words came to ring true in the case of Inoha, and as well as placing his national team spot in jeopardy the 26-year-old must also now think very carefully about his next step.

He most likely does not want to swallow his pride and come back to Japan at this point, but will another European team be willing to give him a chance?

If he had heeded Mikic’s advice and continued to establish himself at Antlers then a side in a bigger league may well have been convinced by his undoubted ability and come in with an offer, either now or perhaps in the summer.

That is something that the likes of Hiroki Sakai, Genki Haraguchi and Hiroshi Kiyotake must certainly bear in mind, with the next 12 months almost certain to bring speculation and offers for their services from overseas.

All three of those players have the potential to become the next Kagawa or Uchida, but they need the right club to facilitate that progression – and for the time being that may well be their current employer.

I recently met Tadanari Lee for a coffee in Southampton, and he was clearly very excited about his move to the Championship club.

The transition from big-fish-in-a-little-pond to small-fry with a point to prove will take some getting used to – at one point a fellow customer struck up conversation with us and Lee was successfully able to pass himself off as a student at the local university, not something that would be achievable in Hiroshima – but I believe he has all the right attributes to adapt to and succeed in the English game.

While Lee did seal his deal, Ryoichi Maeda’s trial with fellow promotion chasers West Ham was unsuccessful, though.

That looks to have been the Jubilo hitman’s final chance to prove himself outside of the J.League, and it is a real shame that he will not have the opportunity to test himself in a different environment.

He suggested as much ahead of his try-out with the Hammers. 

“It might be a bit late to be taking on the challenge of playing abroad, but I hope to grow into a better player in Europe and bring that to the national team,” he was reported as saying by Reuters.

“At my age, this is likely my last chance to play overseas and I want to do everything possible to make it happen.”

This desire on the player’s part suggests Jubilo’s claim that the move didn’t happen because terms couldn’t be agreed may not be the whole truth.

When contrasted with the way in which Southampton pulled out all the stops to get Lee on board, the element of luck and timing which comes into play with such transfers moves even more clearly into focus.

The now-former Sanfrecce Hiroshima striker initially had his visa application turned down, but he was eventually granted special dispensation as “an exceptional talent that will enhance the game [in England]“.

Maeda is one of the most natural Japanese strikers I have seen, and his consistently impressive goalscoring record suggests that he really should have been given an opportunity as well.

To me, the four-year difference in the two players’ ages is the main reason why Lee has been given his chance and Maeda missed the boat.

While Maeda being 30 was not perhaps a stumbling block in the move to West Ham – Sam Allardyce wouldn’t have bothered giving him a trial if he considered the player to be too old – his age will almost certainly have put-off other clubs.

More importantly though, he is unfortunate to belong to a generation of players who were never really trusted or rated in Europe at their peak.

Until the last couple of years Japanese players were considered too weak to survive in more combative leagues, and Maeda’s scoring achievements in the J.League may not have been treated with the respect they deserve outside of Japan.

As more and more players carve out successful careers in the top leagues this myth is slowly being proved wrong; hence why Lee, at just 26, has been offered his shot.

If Maeda had been born a few years later he, too, would surely have earned some overseas experience.

This is a problem that several older Japanese players are currently facing, and they are being forced to choose between seeing out the remainder of their careers in the J.League, or taking any offers that come their way.

Eiji Kawashima, who will soon turn 29, finds himself at a club in the basement of the Belgian league, where he was very nearly joined by his Japan teammate Yuichi Komano.

While Kawashima may still have one more move in him – goalkeepers do have the potential to play for longer – a switch to  bottom club Sint-Truidense would surely have been the only chance for Komano, and would have been a little bit of a transfer-for-the-sake-of-it.

It is a shame for the likes of Maeda and Komano, but the fact that the next generation are being given more opportunities is fantastic for the continuing development of the Japanese game – both with regards to technique and mentality.

Lee is the perfect embodiment of the newly-confident Japanese player, and if he can hit the ground running then he won’t be anonymous in England for much longer.

Last week I wrote about the tribal nature of English football fans and the negative effect that a pack mentality can have.

The behaviour of the angry Blackburn supporters protesting against their own club illustrated how fans’ actions can sometimes be unconstructive to their team. The Luis Suarez affair demonstrates how the opposite can take place.

For anybody who has missed it, Liverpool’s Uruguayan striker Luis Suarez (he of the handball-on-the-line at the World Cup and biting-an-opponent-while-at-Ajax infamy) is currently suspended for racially abusing Manchester United defender Patrice Evra back in October.

The incident and his unprecedented eight-match ban is in itself is a big enough talking point, but the reaction of his club, and consequently some of their fans, has ensured that the issue has not been out of the news for weeks.

The first strange move by Liverpool was the decision of manager Kenny Dalglish and the entire squad to wear t-shirts in support of Suarez during the warm-up ahead of their match against Wigan Athletic – the first game since his suspension had been handed down.

Former United defender Paul McGrath was one of the most critical of that show of support.

“If that had been someone in my time and I’d heard the comments or I’d even suspected he was guilty, and obviously there has been a tribunal, then I would not wear a T-shirt with his name on it, saying all is well and good here,” he was quoted as saying in The Telegraph.

“Maybe Kenny [Dalglish] is trying to make a statement to the FA but I just think it is in bad taste that he sent them out in those T-shirts. It would have been much better for Liverpool Football Club if they had have worn anti-racism shirts.”

Closing ranks in such a manner is not a new way for a football club to respond, but the decision to make such an aggressive stand in defence of Suarez after he had been found guilty of referring to Evra in the most derogatory of terms was very bizarre.

The executive director of European football’s anti-discrimination body Football Against Racism in Europe (FARE) was also far from impressed by the club’s conduct.

“Liverpool have been too keen to support their man and in doing so have whipped up a sense of paranoia amongst their fans,” Piara Powar said.

“The responses from Kenny Dalglish have been undignified, the way in which they have dealt with the whole matter has been unprofessional.

“For the club to so aggressively militate against what looks to most people is a considered judgement from the FA leads to a potential for anarchy.”

These comments were sadly proven to be spot on.

While I hesitate to consider comments on Twitter as a fair representation (how many people who hurl vitriol via an ‘@’ alias would do the same when stood face-to-face with the person they are abusing?), several Liverpool supporters first took to the internet to abuse Evra racially.

Then Oldham Athletic’s Tom Adeyemi was reduced to tears during his side’s FA Cup 3rd round game against Liverpool after receiving racist taunts from the Kop.

Did the club’s reaction to the initial incident lead to this second offence? In my opinion, almost certainly yes.

An ‘us’ and ‘them’ was created, and the mindless idiots who genuinely believe that the colour of someone’s skin matters felt that they had been given an opportunity to air their pathetic views.

If the club had instead apologised – and, for what it’s worth, I don’t think Suarez is racist, just stupid – and accepted the punishment quietly then the matter would have been far easier to move on from. By casting doubt over Evra’s claims and acting in such an undignified and aggressive manner they did nothing to help the matter.

Their response to the second incident has been much more productive, and the idiot responsible is facing a lifetime ban and criminal charges.

While they will be hoping that this reaction has not been too little too late, with Suarez’s potential first away game back in the side set to come away to United on February 11th it looks highly unlikely that things will settle down for some time yet.

The former Sanfrecce Hiroshima striker spoke of his reasons for moving to The Championship side, focusing on his desire to improve as a player.

Usually when I travel back to England and settle down to write this column I focus on something that English football does better than Japanese, and suggest ways that the J.League could improve.

This Christmas, however, something that was going on in the Premier League had the opposite effect, with Blackburn Rovers manager Steve Kean being subjected to a ridiculous amount of abuse by his club’s own fans as the team slid slowly down the table.

Several times I have spoken of my desire for fans in Japan to be a little more spontaneous and to think for themselves rather than just robotically supporting their team regardless of what is happening on the pitch. 

The treatment that was being dished out to Kean is definitely not something that I support though, and the fact that such mindless protests aren’t the norm in Japan is certainly something that the J.League can be proud of.

Sometimes, of course, a coach is not doing his job well enough and a change is the best option.

Indeed, Blackburn are certainly not in a good position, sat at the bottom of the table with a board who appear to have no real understanding of how to run a professional football club.

It is not so much the cause of the unrest which I have a problem with, it is more the personal nature of the insults and its counter-productivity. 

Blackburn fans have been booing their side and chanting for the dismissal of their manager for several weeks, as well as hiring a plane to fly over their Ewood Park stadium with a banner reading “Kean Out!” during a match.

It is very rare that I agree with religious leaders, but ahead of Rovers’ tricky set of fixtures over the Christmas and New Year period the Bishop of Blackburn spoke a lot of sense on the issue.

“I would say please, always remember the human being, always remember that he’s part of a family — that other people will be suffering because people have got him in their sights,” Right Reverend Nicholas Reade said to the BBC.

Bolton Wanderer’s head coach Owen Coyle – whose side defeated Rovers to send them to the bottom of the table – was one of many managers to publically support Kean.

“I don’t think they have given Stevie Kean a chance from the outset when he was appointed,” he said. “Ultimately, people who shout the loudest get heard. Stevie Kean is a terrific coach, he is managing in the best league in the world and somebody has to fill the dreaded bottom places.”

While the team has struggled, the idiotic behaviour of their fans appears to have contributed to their plummet to the bottom of the table, and it is surely no coincidence that Rovers have reserved their best results for their away games – including a draw at Liverpool and a victory over Manchester United – while losing eight of their first ten at home.

Striker Yakubu threw his considerable weight behind his coach after the win over United, asking “What did [the fans] expect? They should give him a break and support the team. Look at the way he believes in the players.”

Kean also came out fighting, and pointed out the mindless nature of the protests.

“I have five or six players who are under 22 and if they can feel a negative vibe around the ground, it can get to the younger players. So I hope the fans realise we have a young side and are a little bit fragile, and I hope they get behind us.”

It was even suggested in some quarters that the impressive results against two of the Premier League’s biggest clubs would have displeased the protestors – by virtue of the points keeping Kean in a job.

“I wouldn’t imagine any true supporter would want to see us get relegated,” he said on that issue.

“If there is anybody in the stadium who is taking a bit of joy when we don’t win or when we lose and that’s their goal when they come to the ground, I wouldn’t class them as supporters.”

I fully agree with that; there are many words to describe those people and ‘supporters’ is definitely not one of them.

As I discussed in last week’s column, the Club World Cup is far from being the official word on who is the best team in the world.

To an extent, the ease with which Barcelona cruised to the trophy serves as further proof of that. In truth though, it is becoming increasingly apparent with this set of players that the usual rules don’t apply.

At half-time in the final I was watching the highlights in the press room and said of Xavi’s exquisite control ahead of his assist for the first goal, “It’s not fair, they’re too good.”

A Brazilian journalist sat nearby laughingly agreed and gave me a look that said “what can you do?”

According to Neymar after the game, the answer is very simple: nothing.

“We did everything we could but Barca are too strong,” the Santos striker shrugged with a wry smile.

This had been a theme during the Catalan giants’ week in Japan, with opponents queuing up to praise Pep Guardiola’s incredible side.

Al-Sadd’s head coach Jorge Fossati perhaps put it best after seeing his team picked apart in the semi-final.

“Barca has a kingdom, but who can defeat this kingdom?,” the Uruguayan asked.

Al-Sadd and Santos may be at a lower level than some of the biggest European sides who are best placed to topple the club that is ‘more than a club’, but they represent the best in Asia and South America right now.

Even when faced with Manchester United (in this year’s Champions League final) or Real Madrid (the day before they flew to Japan) Barca came out comfortably on top.

“Barcelona is the best club team in the world,” Fossati added. “Whoever they play against they are the best team in the world. That is logical to say.”

The strength of the team rests not only with their phenomenal attacking ability and abundance of sublime individual talents, but also in a fantastic work-ethic and understanding which is a direct result of its fabled La Masia academy.

Something that always strikes me about the side is the way they hunt in packs as soon as the opposition get the ball, making it incredibly difficult to place them under any real pressure.

Guardiola referred to this aspect of his side’s play after the final, highlighting the attention to detail they pay to each specific opponent.

“We have very high quality players and also try to analyse the opponents and find space in which to use the ball,” he said. “The players just capture the ball and move around and make chances. It is not so complicated.”

It may not be complicated to them, but exactly how to stop them certainly has everyone else scratching their heads.

Santos’ head coach Muricy Ramalho was similarly at a loss, and yet again referred to Barca as the best in the world.

“We tried to stop their players as much as possible, but I don’t think it’s easy to find a team anywhere in the world that can beat Barcelona.

“I thought of many things, but to control the game or steal the game from Barca is very difficult. It’s no use talking about the shortcomings of Santos and we should be humble and accept that Barca is the world’s best club.”

Cesc Fabregas was also at pains to point out the amount of hard work that has gone into building such a phenomenal team.

“If you see that it’s easy then it’s because we played a very serious game, very professional and disciplined then that made it look easy but it wasn’t easy at all,” the former Arsenal captain said of the game with Santos.

After having had to put up with the likes of Nicklas Bendtner and Marouane Chamakh until he returned to Camp Nou, I asked just how much fun it was to now be lining up alongside Xavi, Messi and Iniesta.

“It’s great,” he said with a grin. “They are the best players in the world. I’m taking advantage for my game to have more opportunities because they create so many spaces and so many chances.”

The ‘best in the world’ line is pretty unanimous, then. It surely can’t be long until the same can be said of the ‘best ever’ tag.