David Beckham has been quoted saying, “People don't think I've got the brains to be that clever.”  

He's also said, “The spotlight will always be on me, but it's something I'm learning to live with as the years go by.”

That's wistful, and wishful thinking in the age of nano. But let it be. He's had a great career.  Could we say he's the Joe Montana of European football?  Or the Cal Ripkin, Jr.?  Or the Larry Bird.

Not since Pele has someone so glamorized this sport in America.  Plus he's modern.  Call him Metro-Rex. Plus he's Caucasian, although in that way, not modern at all. He's the white man still jumping. Soon to be a throw-back, a reminder.   

In round ball social circles, he is Dr. Jekyll to Wayne Rooney's Mr. Hyde. And speaking of size eight boots, he's no Charlie Miller singing sectarian ballads. Not a pub brawler. He's Mr. Clean.    

He's also no Messi.

But can he recast himself?  Has he got a second act?  Does it matter.  Is it best to just let him live on in YouTubeville.  Be the simple spice jock. Let's raise a toast to the goal from 70 yards out. Two actually.

Or should he be expected to do something with all his money and fame?  

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