He was said to be on his last legs but on Thursday David Beckham scored one of the biggest deals in sports history. Richard Woods and John Harlow on the amazing global appeal of brand Beckham
 
 
Judging by some reactions to David Beckham’s latest career swerve you’d have thought he had betrayed the nation, defrauded fans and mugged a few old ladies on the way home.
“A true genius ruined by his greed,” spat one headline. “Yanks a billion,” read another. “Fitting final backdrop to a career in freefall,” sneered another. What crime has Beckham committed to merit this? Last week he signed to play football for two things: an obscure club in California, and possibly the most lucrative contract ever given to a sports star.

 
 
It was rather like one of his famous free kicks from an acute angle 20 yards out. There he was at the Spanish powerhouse Real Madrid, dropped from the first team, losing possession and status, and playing like a has-been with haircut fatigue.

Then out of nowhere he scored, curling the ball past all the detractors, defenders, keepers and critics into a net that could earn him £128m over five years. In the summer he will move to play for LA Galaxy, a team that attracts crowds to rival those of, say, Ipswich Town.

By footballing standards, it is the equivalent of Tony Blair going to be a sub-postmaster in Little Rock, Arkansas.

But in financial terms it’s the jackpot: Beckham will receive a salary of £5m (more than the rest of the team put together); a share in club profits expected to generate another £5m a year; and sponsorship deals worth another £12m or so.

There will be other perks, too, of varying desirability. Tom Cruise is offering to organise a welcoming party that would introduce Beckham to the A-list of Hollywood (and quite possibly the finer points of Scientology).

His wife Victoria will be able to pop round for coffee with her pal Katie Holmes (Tom’s wife) without catching a private jet, and the LA celebrity circuit may even resuscitate her moribund career. There’s already talk of a reality TV show of Dosh and Bucks (as Posh and Becks are now being called) just moving to LA, let alone living there.

For a man who grew up a working-class kid, the son of a kitchen fitter and hairdresser in Leytonstone, east London, it’s a remarkable journey. Even in England, where the national psyche has been honed to mock material success, some ordinary fans recognise that for all his faults Beckham is an extraordinary ambassador for his game and country.

“What has he ever done wrong?” wailed one contributor to a football comment website last week. True, there was Rebecca Loos and the notorious foul that ruined England’s World Cup hopes in 1998. But he’s only human.

“He has been a model professional at all times, working hard in training with little scandal,” wrote the fan. “No throwing bottles at cops, no brawls outside bars at 5am, no visiting senior women of the night. Poor Becks, he deserves better.”