SOMEONE in the gutter press is out to get Sven Goran Eriksson. You have the man's word for it. The England manager says that the tabloids are responsible for a campaign to unship him from his high profile and extremely well-paid job.

However, displaying all the stoicism and calm for which he has become famous, or possibly infamous, given England's spectacular lack of achievement at the highest level, he has no intention of surrendering to the Jackals of Fleet Street, or the Buzzards of Canary Wharf, as they are now known.

He certainly displays more resilience than his predecessors, notably Graham Taylor, the ridiculed turnip farmer; Glenn Hoddle, whose quasi-religious quotations triggered an understandably molten reaction from the physically handicapped, and Kevin Keegan, who wasn't up to the job.

Sven, being an erudite and sophisticated European, simply cannot understand the British appetite for muck-raking, as it is euphemistically termed. He's not alone. In the 1980s, when I wrote sport for Eddie Shah's daily TODAY, I 'ghosted' a column for the American jockey Steve Cauthen, who somehow survived on a permanent diet of mush-room soup, fresh fruit and steam baths.

One night he went clubbing in the West End with another jockey, Walter Swinburn, whose favourite tipple was champagne. Not surprisingly, given his Spartan regime, Steve fell over after a couple of glasses and was horrified when, the following day, the tabloids splashed the story of his and Walter's drunken night out. He never trusted anyone except his closest friends after that and became paranoid about his private life.

No-one can say Sven is having such misgivings as his affairs with Ulrika Jonsson and former Football Association employee Faria Alam are public knowledge. What's more he kept his job AND his long-time partner Nancy Dell'Olio, insisting he should be judged on football results, not alleged bedroom gymnastics. Is it me or does he seem better at one than the other, and I'm not talking football here. What will he do when he loses his looks?

Stories at the weekend that he was pursuing another woman this time stung the normally somnolent Swede into angry reaction. Describing the latest tabloid inches as 'rubbish', he said someone was trying to disturb his job and make him leave the country. 'If they are going to write about my private life, they should at least try to get it right. Is it asking too much to write the truth,' he asked.

Yes, Sven, it probably is. But you can always contact your lawyer if you believe someone is conducting a campaign of vituperation against you and/or libelling you.

Posh Spice can't do that over the admission that she has never read a book, not even her autobiography, which tells of her career with the most successful girl pop group in history, her zillions, her famous footballer hubby, three kids with daft names, and how she became captain of the world pouting team.

The guffaws at Mrs Beckham's expense could be heard nationwide. Still, she's lily white as far as marital fidelity goes. I wonder what the tabloids will make of that, once they've finished with Sven?