Simon Hattenstone: Shaun Goater: True Football Legend

A weekend for tearful farewells. Highbury, Dennis Bergkamp, possibly Thierry Henry with that magnificent hat-trick-scoring, turf-kissing final gesture. Big Bad Duncan Ferguson at Everton, magenta-toned Steve McClaren at Middlesbrough, and Oxford United relegated from the Football League. (Their former chairman, Bob Maxwell, must be turning in Davy Jones' locker, so to speak.) I even found myself moved by that record-breaking automaton Alan Shearer when he said his ta-tas to Newcastle.

Most moving of all, though, was Shaun Goater's farewell to English football. The Goat was a true role model. He represented the triumphs of hope over expectation, altruism over selfishness, fluky off-the-arse-deflections over magnificent 30-yard chips, education over yobbery - forget Graeme Le Saux, the Goat was the best-spoken player of his generation.

Most famously the Goat inspired the greatest football chant of our age. With the allusive wit of TS Eliot and the sampling genius of Kanye West, Manchester City fans transformed the famous lines from the hymn Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah from "Bread of Heaven/Feed Me Till I want No More" into "Feed the Goat and he will score/ Feed the Goat and he will score." Magnificent.

Goater was always a fighter. He was born in Bermuda, educated in America and, at 17, found himself on trial at Old Trafford. Thankfully he was rejected.

The Goat never had it easy though. He was cruelly named in an all-time Ugly XI at uglyfootballers.com and, while it is true that his ears were of a size which made him unlikely to ever win a Mr Bermuda contest, he soon revealed his inner beauty at the clubs he blessed with his presence - Rotherham United, Notts County, Bristol City, Manchester City, Reading, Coventry City and, latterly, Southend United.

At Maine Road he continually defied expectation. Striker after striker was brought in to replace him (Weah, Wanchope, Anelka and the Blobster) and failed, as he won over the many fans who had disparaged him. His scoring record for Bermuda was phenomenal - 32 goals in 36 games. The Goat is Bermuda's Pele. He even had a national holiday declared in his name.

This year City fans have been thinking a lot about him. Joey Barton's antics reminded us of everything that the Goat is and he is not. We held him up as the anti-Barton. While Barton announced he would consider staying at City if they proved themselves worthy of him and finished high up the league (as if that was independent of his contribution), the Goat always hoped that, if he proved himself worthy of City (or his other clubs), they would ask him to stay.

Now the Goat is to return to Bermuda to work with children and do ambassadorial work. On Saturday I was watching him say his goodbyes to Southend, who had just won the League One title. He held the trophy and grinned like a little boy starting out as fans went down on their knees in supplication.

"Look, look, it's the Goat," I said to my elder daughter, Alix, who is lucky enough to have seen him deflect one or two off his arse in her time.

"Wow! Amazing!" she said, with due awe.

Then something strange happened. I tried to explain to her how he had won the MBE a few years ago for his services to kids in Bermuda. Alix asked what an MBE was. I despise the honours system but I found myself cracking up with emotion as I tried to say "Member of the British Empire". I stopped and didn't answer. Not because I didn't want to but I couldn't let Alix see I was welling up over a bloody MBE. I wasn't, of course. Not really. I was welling up for the Goat.

That can't be Wright

More weeping on Monday, this time for Shaun Wright-Phillips. It is less than a year since Chelsea paid £21m for him. The question then was not should he be in the England squad, but should he take David Beckham's place in the team.

And now? Yes, he has his monetary reward and his Premiership medal but he must be asking himself whether it was worth it. Sure, he's been badly managed and lacks confidence but this is a man who can turn a game in a second and to drop him from the squad seems both cruel and foolish.

Walcott, Lennon and Downing and no Defoe, Bent and SWP? There's a demob happy selection if I ever saw one. Anyway we're keeping the collection going for you at City, Shaun. But somehow I don't think we'll need to fill as many tins to get you back as we would have when you left.