Football owes debt to NHS after Fabrice Muamba ordeal The swelling of sympathy for Muamba came from the bottom up, via the instant empathy of social networking, and was cited by some in the game as proof of football's decency. To which one is tempted to reply: what sort of game would football be if it failed to display compassion for a 23-year-old who nearly died in front of almost 40,000 people on a football pitch? In this drama way too much credit was extended to other footballers for expressing simple human concern. For my money the outpouring of admiration for the sympathisers reflected how remote footballers have become. To see them stricken by Muamba's brush with death reduced them to the normal level of fear and vulnerability, where they were all along, right beside us, until we elevated them to deities. As Muamba began to recover and the medics emerged as the real carers, my own thoughts turned to the White Hart Lane crowd: the praise they received for filing out respectfully in the Bolton game and the absence of any concern about the distress fans on both sides might be feeling - especially parents groping for a form of words that might explain to a seven-year-old that the man they saw collapse on the pitch had passed away. Most of those at White Hart Lane will have clocked on for work as usual on Monday. They did not have Harry Redknapp to express concern for them in press conferences. Many returned, too, for the midweek game against Stoke, where regulars reported heightened irritation when players went down theatrically. The welcome subtext was: how, after what happened to Muamba, could you pretend to be more hurt than you really are? For all the concern of the past week to have any lasting effect, some supporters are going to have to reduce the gap between the empathy they showed for Muamba and the nastiness and disrespect they bring to chanting, for example; and players might care to take another look at their injury-simulation and all round thespianism on the floor, to decide whether it dishonours Muamba's great escape. Most of all, the idea of football as religion was put back in its box by the sight of a consultant cardiologist persuading a steward to let him on the pitch, and by the expert work of those gathered around Muamba, who, we now learn, was "in effect" dead for 78 minutes before his miraculous recovery. Unless you notice only Bupa hospitals through your car window and think market forces will solve everything, you may not know that the NHS is in dire fear of its life. The hypocrisy in Britain is to praise "angel nurses" and "tireless surgeons" while ignoring their pleas for political support to save one of the country's defining institutions. Which is why the best symbolic outcome of the White Hart Lane ordeal would be a statement of support by the national game for national health. To that end, the beer company that sponsors the world's oldest knockout competition could surrender its naming rights and declare this "the NHS FA Cup," with all proceeds from this year's tournament going to specialist units. Some would call it cosmetic, or a stunt. Others would say it opens the door wider to the NHS being funded by charity. But at least it would show that football understands what really mattered when outsiders entered the field of play as a Bolton player lay face down. Fabrice Muamba lived. Luke Chapman died. They were both attended to by a profession that needs and deserves support more than professional football ever will. Nicholls wary of ruining Kauto Star Paul Nicholls" reluctance to confirm the retirement of Kauto Star is based at least partly on the trainer's knowledge of what can happen to great horses who are suddenly consigned to a lone life in fields. On a visit to his Somerset yard in December, Nicholls told me he hated seeing champions fall apart through inactivity. There are numerous examples of them losing weight and suffering a depression of the spirits when their careers end. To most in racing, Kauto Star reached the end of the road when pulling up after nine fences of the Cheltenham Gold Cup. To train him for a sixth King George VI Chase win seems risky and pointless. A friend who looked after Mandarin at the late Fulke Walwyn's yard suggests a compromise. Kauto Star could be kept in half-training, without going near a racecourse. His presence around the yard would remind the staff of the high standards they have always strived for and keep an aristocratic horse engaged and busy. It would be like having Paul Scholes at Manchester United's training ground after he retired. Oh, hang on, Scholes came back. Get thee behind them, temptation. Lancaster deserves complete control Noises from inside the Rugby Football Union indicate a consistent urge to appoint Nick Mallett alongside or above Stuart Lancaster, the star caretaker who won four of five Six Nations games in charge of England. That double appointment would certainly allow the RFU to avoid demoting Lancaster, who is deeply popular with the players. But I am still puzzled by this notion that Mallett has a glittering CV and an unanswerable claim on the job. A record-equalling 17 consecutive wins with South Africa is admirable, but there is no World Cup on his resumé. Lancaster is the man.