THE name game has been in the football frame this week with that quintessential tabs-man Paul Gascoigne announcing a desire to change his moniker.

Apparently the garrulous Geordie believes that altering his identity would help to leave his Gazza-mania past behind him, like those desperate defenders he used to consign to his wake when he was at his mesmeric playing best.

Some hope Gazza, sorry Mr G, or even the artist formerly known as Gazza as he may now wish to be known.

Even if Gascoigne were to have his countenance carved apart by plastic surgery - and something drastic definitely needs to be done about that fuzzy face furniture currently sprouting about his mush - there can be no escape from the years of success, largesse and excess that characterised the Gazza era.

And what would he change his name to? Not being exactly the sharpest of letters-men in the alphabet he would surely need a name not too far removed from the one that he has suddenly turned against.

Break Gascoigne down then and you have gas coin, so what about Bob Shilling. That's got a ring to it and for those pre-decimal, some might say pre-dinosaur, about you, a shilling - also known as a bob - was the equivalent of today's 5p and was inserted into many a lecky meter once the cardboard had run out.

The only problem I can visualise about Shilling is the definite Teutonic tone of it. Might bring back all those memories of Italia '90 and that semi-final caution against Germany. Any total recall or replay of that and Gazza's identity-changing deed-poll certificate would be far too damp to brandish, let alone read.

There may be quite a few of Gazza's successors in the current game who might well consider following his title-switching path.

Wayne Rooney for one, particularly on his social travels around his native Liverpool, and Craig Bellamy who may discover he is known as Craig yell-at-me if his Sabbath verbal outburst was directed at his Newcastle boss Graeme Souness.

One jet-set footballer who would certainly benefit would be a Mr D Beckham, whose present residency in Madrid offers little sanctuary from the red-top brigade who so slavishly pursued Gascoigne.

Then again, England captain DB - might that stand for dopey beggar given his recent Wales way booking - might not be able to endure the anonymity any alteration in identity would bring.

What's the point checking into a hotel room, or springing on to a catwalk, or departing an exorbitantly-priced eaterie if - in a reverse of the Cheers signature tune - nobody knows your name. Oh no - there's no cameras, no flash-lights, no one else...here. The pressure on the precious David would surely be too much to bear. No publicity, no fear.

Nah, Becks and Posh would never go for that and please don't tell the former's one-time employers Manchester United. Jeez, if they thought they could make even more Red Devils' readies from altering their identity they'd be having a name-change every week, especially if it would help to keep them out of the claws of that American leprechaun look-alike Malcolm Glazer.

And closer to home a substitute of name might well benefit the Minstermen at Bootham Crescent. Why, they could at last get rid of their current appellation of anguish otherwise known as York Citynil.

But for all the speculation about potential changes in name I have to say - through gritted teeth admittedly - that the best proposal doing the rounds right now is that applied by crowing Everton fans, who are lording their present Premiership position above Liverpool. The Toffee-noses have labelled Reds' manager Rafa Benitez as Rafa Beneathus.

Updated: 10:57 Tuesday, October 19, 2004