THE alarm was raised within minutes of the attack that killed three members of the Togo entourage as they travelled to their opening match of the African Cup of Nations in Angola.

Commentators from all four corners of the world predicted a Doomsday scenario at this summer’s World Cup in South Africa, with terrorists joining criminals, car-jackers and muggers to plunge the competition into chaos.

Domestic and overseas journalists descended on South Africa to quiz Danny Jordaan, the head of the World Cup organising committee, about his country’s ability to guarantee the safety and security of players and supporters travelling to the tournament.

And even Hull boss Phil Brown, that respected doyen of world affairs, felt compelled to have his say.

“I am appalled,” said Brown, displaying a previously well-hidden penchant for matters of international diplomacy.

“This throws a question mark against this summer’s World Cup. You simply cannot put the safety of players, officials and fans at the slightest risk. That is totally unacceptable.”

True, it would be. But what is equally unacceptable is people such as Brown making illinformed comments about a situation and region they know little or nothing about.

At best, Brown’s comments were ill-advised.

At worst, they were almost colonialist in terms of their condescending nature.

‘Strewth, there’s been a shooting in one African country, and the World Cup’s going to take place in another one. Well it’s bound to go wrong then isn’t it? After all, they’re all the same’.

Actually, they’re not. Not even a little bit.

The distance between Johannesburg, the capital of South Africa and venue for the World Cup final, and Luanda, the capital of Angola and venue for the African Cup of Nations final, is 1,541 miles. That’s roughly the same as the distance between London and Casablanca.

Culturally, the two countries are also miles apart. South Africa, for all of its historical problems, has been politically and economically stable during the post-Apartheid era. It has no recent history of either ethnic conflict or terrorist attacks.

Angola, on the other hand, has only just emerged from three decades of intense and violent civil war. A peace deal exists between the government and the Front for the Liberation of Cabinda, the breakaway region where last week’s attack took place, but it is both fragile and disputed.

As a result, Angola is unstable and illiberal. Last week’s rebel attack was both abhorrent and unexpected, but it was hardly out of keeping with the day-to-day reality of life in a country that is ranked 162nd out of 180 in Transparency International’s 2009 Corruption Index.

So with that in mind, how it can be right to extrapolate from events in a troubled region of Angola in order to make judgements on the potential for disruption in an entirely different nation with entirely different political and social conditions?

No one, not even Jordaan, is suggesting that South Africa does not have its problems. Crime is endemic in certain regions, the national murder rate is alarmingly high and the gulf between rich and poor is vast. But the same could be said of many other countries that successfully host major international sporting events.

Just because a group of footballers has been attacked in one African country, it does not mean that the World Cup will inevitably be a target for terrorism in another. It could be, but then that caveat would apply if the tournament was being staged in England, China or the United States.

On July 7, 2005, London was the venue for a series of terrorist attacks that left 56 people dead and more than 700 injured. Fourteen days later, the opening Ashes Test between England and Australia took place at Lord’s.

Back then, there were precious few calls for an abandonment of the cricket. Double standards inevitably abound when a country such as South Africa is compared to England, but it is wrong to demand guarantees and promises that we are unable to provide ourselves.

EVEN before he narrowly missed out on another half-century yesterday, Paul Collingwood had already secured his place as England’s Man of the Series in South Africa.

So why he is rarely acknowledged as one of the team’s leading lights?

Why is he still seen as subordinate to the likes of Strauss, Cook and Pietersen when he has been integral to the majority of England’s victories or draws in the last two years?

Whenever he is lauded, the praise tends to be grudging. He ‘makes the best of himself’, is ‘dogged’ rather than ‘brilliant’, and invariably ‘battles for the cause’.

All of those statements apply. But Collingwood is also a magnificent cricketer who has developed into the linchpin of the English middle order in all three versions of the game.

Perhaps when he retires, and England’s batting lineup reverts to its formerly fragile self, his true worth will finally be acknowledged.

IT wasn’t quite the radical overhaul some had been hoping for, but by selecting Shontayne Hape and Chris Ashton, England rugby union coach Martin Johnson has at least displayed a willingness to think outside the traditional box and delve into the receptacle marked ‘rugby league’.

As the leading try-scorer in the Guinness Premiership, Ashton deserved his elevation to the senior squad, and while Hape’s selection confirms a lack of depth in the centres, the former Bradford Bull undoubtedly possesses the kind of pace and incision that was lacking throughout the Autumn internationals.

More significant, though, could be the return of Toby Flood.

The Leicester fly-half was one of the few successes of last season’s Six Nations, but will Johnson be brave enough to pick him ahead of a fit and firing Jonny Wilkinson? And, if he does, will the England boss then be tempted to field Wilkinson as a gamechanging number 12?