Cristiano Ronaldo can learn a lot from David Beckham

She unveiled a miniature mansion for her 13 dogs, offered to become Susan Boyle's style guru, and jettisoned a Z-list boyfriend.

By an amazing coincidence she also stumbled over Cristiano Ronaldo, the world's most expensive footballer.

According to an understandably breathless eyewitness, they "swapped spit".
Niiice. Wait till Mummy gets you home, young man.

Say what you like about Paris, she's a pro.

Once she surfaced for air, she revealed her intention to name her children Victoria and David after Posh & Pecs.

"They are so hot and I want kids as beautiful as her," she trilled, unwittingly emphasising the pecking order of the world's second favourite game.

In football terms Ronaldo is arm candy, a distracting dalliance. Beckham is roses-around-the-door royalty.
It's the difference between a shell suit and an Armani suit, which for Goldenballs comes free with a £32million underwear contract.

The Winker has lots to learn from him on and off the pitch.

The Beckhams were welcomed to Tinseltown by Tom Cruise, Will Smith, Demi Moore and their other halves.

Ronaldo was a passing fancy for the paparazzi, an extra in a film that will go straight to DVD. He's another wannabe, orbiting the outer reaches of the celebrity galaxy. He might be the world's best footballer, but his move to Madrid has little to do with football.
President Perez is the Noughties' answer to Sam Goldwyn, a film studio boss in the business of selling dreams.

He wants Ronaldo to drive the e-economy, to become a salesman for a new generation of interactive internet content.

Beckham sold a million Madrid shirts in six months.


Ron must shift 30million in six years. He can do that only by building a brand capable of penetrating the favelas of Sao Paulo, the slums of Mexico City and sweatshops of rural China.

Madrid are chasing fool's gold. Since you can buy a counterfeit replica shirt for less than a fiver, revenue from official merchandise in the emerging world is relatively insignificant.

Even the marketing monolith that is Manchester United makes only £3m a year from assorted souvenir sales in Asia.

A stroll down Oxford Street, where homo-erotic images of his waxed torso dominate Selfridges, confirms that Brand Beckham is the real deal.

Ronaldo simply lacks class, showroom sheen.

Becks gives good copy, smiles on cue, plays to the gallery.

I saw him creating a minor riot in the car park of Almaty's Central Stadium.

Children crawled through our legs, pawed at him as if he were a 17th-century saint.

He was so at ease amid the madness. He never missed a beat, eulogising the potential of Fabio Capello's England. It was meaningless, but PR gold.

Don't bet against him making the World Cup squad and returning to the Premier League once he's done the chore of an 11 game spell with LA Galaxy.

Beckham makes sense of management speak, like "There's no I in team". He Walks the Talk. It's "We" not "Me".

In injury time at Wembley in midweek, he tracked back 50 yards to give away a free-kick and stop an Andorran attack.

He provided unnecessary confirmation of his work ethic.

Ronaldo lacks maturity, empathy and strength of character. He's shallow and self-obsessed.
He needs to learn the world does not revolve around him.

A few more nights in Paris should do the trick.