THERE are days when supporting the underdog is no use at all. It just doesn’t help the team or the fan. Sunday was one of those days.

It is reasonable to suggest that of the 40,000 crowd who turned up to see the Four Nations showdown between Australia and New Zealand, up to 75 per cent were backing the Kiwis.

By the time the second half was only a few minutes old, many of those spectators, especially in the packed Kop seats, were far more interested in seeing how far they could launch their paper aeroplanes than in the outcome of a rugby match between the game’s top two nations.

New Zealand were taking a heck of a beating from the Kangaroos and any chance of British fans enjoying some reflected glory in a Kiwis win had gone up in smoke along with the pre-match pyrotechnics and fireworks displays.

Contrast that with the previous day’s rugby union international between England and a totally outclassed and underwhelming Fiji. England ran in nine tries and a total of 58 points in a one-sided stroll. All good headline making, chest-thumping claim of “fabulous” in one report. And not a flying paper plane to be seen.

The 13-man code has a hard time getting the recognition its supporters believe it deserves in the rugby world, but those self-same supporters fill the social media forums with tales of doom and gloom rather than enjoying the skills of Australians such as Cameron Smith, Cooper Cronk or Jonathon Thurston.

They talk about changing the name of the sport that has managed to survive and often thrive for a century; they call for more marketing, advertising and bigger and better TV deals.

Yet when they get the chance to see and appreciate the world’s finest rugby players of either code on terrestrial television or at one of the country’s iconic sports arenas, what do they do? Throw paper planes. Sunday’s final was nobody’s idea of a classic but it was a lot better than any origami competition you’ll ever see.

THERE was a time when the life of a football supporter was simple. You had the bread-and-butter league games, the glamour of the FA Cup and, if you were really keen, you could take in a midweek match in the Football League Cup.

Then, enter the age of sponsorship and suddenly the poor old paying customer doesn’t know what he’s buying into.

The League Cup is something different every few seasons; the FA Cup, surely like Wimbledon and the Open Golf above selling its name, is now a vehicle for advertising an airline, and the good old Football League is in hock to a television betting company.

Now we have another one, The Checkatrade Trophy. I have no idea what it is or even who it is for, since attendances appear to be counted in dozens rather than thousands and some of the teams are the Under-21s of Premier League clubs. We have gone through the tedium of group matches to get down to the last 32 (I think) and a straight knockout event.

The chances of this competition lasting more than a season are less than Leicester’s hopes of keeping the Premier League title.

FOOTBALLER likes a few drinks. Not exactly the headline to catch your eye on a news stand, and rush to buy a paper, is it?

So let’s spice it up with a picture of the England captain at a late night wedding reception in his hotel. That should do the trick and divide the nation between cries for his head on a plate or equally loud calls to get off the lad’s back.

Now Wayne Rooney has had enough of what he believes is disgraceful treatment by some sections of the media and has defended himself.

His accusations prompted further calls in some corners of the press to take great exception to any suggestion that they have got it in for the England captain, the country’s leading goalscorer and current Manchester United bench warmer. Shock, horror headlines abound.

Here, I’ll stay neutral except to say I never realised there were so many poor, sensitive souls filling the press seats at our major soccer grounds who clearly believe in the view that it is far better to give than receive.

PETER WILSON