For London’s free evening newspaper, and therefore what should be – and generally is – a pro-Olympics organ, Patrick Barclay’s Evening Standard column yesterday was a little out of place with many of the recent London 2012-themed stories to appear in there.

His cynicism that David Beckham and Ryan Giggs could be included in the Olympics football squad just to help bump up ticket sales may be, of course, very well placed. But does the country really care that two footballing heroes could step out for Great Britain just because of their footballing history?

Surely not. Though Giggs’ private life became one of the off-field talking points of 2011 – even surpassing some of the tripe that Fifa president Sepp Blatter came out with – his on-pitch reputation remains unblemished. A wizardry winger and one of the greatest of his generation who became the most decorated British footballer of all time, thrown in with more than two decades of service to one club.

Yes, it is a shame that Giggs has never played in an international tournament, so in a competition that few care too much about (it’s not the Euros or World Cup), why can’t he be thrown in?

He still plays Premier League football at one of the country’s top clubs. I’m sure there are better players that could be used now, but he is not so far off the radar that he should be immediately discounted.

And the same goes for Beckham, England’s most capped outfield player ever. While many will argue just where he ranks in the list of great Premier League and international midfielders (not near the top of either), the man is a footballing icon who deserves to bow out of British football on a high.

Of course, cynicism points in the direction of Golden Balls’ role as an Olympic ambassador – somebody who can bring in crowds (and therefore money) in what would otherwise be a semi-watched football tournament.

But whether this is true or not, Great Britain could do far worse than give these two footballers one final international competition (the last in the case of Beckham, first and last for Giggs) to almost wave goodbye.

Barclay may be right about the motives, but who cares? Both should have their moment for Great Britain. Euro 2012 is the competition to take seriously this summer.

Football is having one of its worst seasons of controversy, with allegations of on and off-field racial remarks and alarming use of hand gestures by the crowd for any opponent daring to, for example, go and take a corner or a throw in. Of course, this kind of thing has happened in the past. It’s nothing new. Yet it is a great shame, especially in the case of alleged racism, that behaviour such as this has returned as great progress has been made in football over the last couple of decades.

Why on Earth does it take place on the terraces, though? My memories of standing on the concrete steps of football grounds as a youngster are filled with humour, pickled onions and people having a good time regardless of the result. Maybe it was worse than that and time has erased any thoughts of abuse, though I suspect this isn’t the case.

But generally, getting under the skin of opponents – both in the terraces and the players lined up against yours – was done through wit. How can I make fun of somebody in good jest? Targeting, for example, Jason Lee’s haircut (who remembers “he’s got a pineapple, on his head”?) instead of aiming a mouth full of expletives in his direction.

Now, though, abuse is commonplace. Apparently, there’s nothing like getting at an opponent by shaking a first or waving a couple of fingers at them.

So it was with great delight that I was given a copy of Who are ya? Football’s best ever chants compiled by Gershon Portnoi. Some 175 pages of wit and good humour, a bible for some of the best-written chants and songs from up and down the country over the years.

A reminder, too, that football does not need to resort to some of the ridiculous comments thrown the way of players these days.

Take this one, for example, about the inadequacy of Djimi Traore sung to the tune of Blame it on the Boogie by The Jackson Five:

Don’t blame it on the Biscan,

Don’t blame it on the Hamann,

Don’t blame it on the Finnan,

Blame it on Traore.

He just can’t, he just can’t, he just can’t control his feet.

Or perhaps this tongue-in-cheek look of Alex Hleb from Arsenal fans:

Alex Hleb, woah-oh,

Alex Hleb, woah-oh,

He came from Belarus,

To sell cheap fags and booze.

Many, many more examples – indeed, from around the world – are featured in the book and display football in a slightly better light.

These current problems are snowballing. Players have a responsibility as well to improve their own on-field behaviour, but it does not give fans the right to say or do what they want. Let’s hope we’re not closing in on another Eric Cantona outburst, but could instead still return towards the glory days of wit on our terraces.

As this book shows, British football fans can be among the best at it.

Follow me – @benjamin_curtis