Derek J enters the pantheon of greats

Just saw Chris Rock's new film, Good Hair, at the Brixton Ritzy. It's all about black women's hair and how they spend loads of time and money getting themselves looking good.

He visits a hair big hair jamboree, the conclusion to which is a Hair Battle, with five stylists putting together shows featuring their finest haircuts. The sort of thing Louis Theroux spends his time attending.

The king stylist was my new favourite short man: a cross-dressing hairdresser called Derek J (pictured above) who is like the Little Richard of hair. His shameless posing in his high-heeled knee-length boots and jewel-encrusted cane was one of the most brilliant things captured on film in a long while.

Rock showed up at the Ritzy to do a Q&A but unfortunately the questions focussed on the contentious Weave V Locks debate, rather than the star of the show, Derek J.

Argentina for the World Cup: The short man's choice

For the short man, there are only really three choices on who to back at the upcoming World Cup.
In height terms, it's really a toss-up between Argentina, North Korea and Spain.

Consulting my Panini World Cup 2010 sticker album which happily gives all the players' heights, Spain have a bunch of good short players, including David Silva, Iniesta and Xavi.

North Korea have the shortest squad overall. It is a moot point whether the North Koreans are short per se or if it is their Communist diet that is restricting their growth. Still, I for one will be looking out for Mun In-Guk, their striker who measure 5ft 6ins.

But the short man with a rational bone in his body must back the Argie.

There are many, many reasons for this. They have three great small (under 5ft 9ins) players: Mascherano, Tevez and Messi.

I love Mascherano, despite him playing for Liverpoo. He is entirely cynical in the tackle, gets booked virtually every game and enjoys suggesting a player dived when he has just placed six studs in their knee. He is the archetypal Dirty Argie and I suspect he has a visceral hatred of lanky footballers. If I was a professional footballer I would be Mascherano.

Tevez is your typical try-too-hard short man. He never knows when to stop, which is why he scores so many goals in the last ten minutes of games.

And then there is Messi: the best player in the world at the moment who has scored four hat-tricks in this calendar year, including four goals against Arsenal.

But the main reason to back them is their manager: Diego Armando Maradona. A man who gives your Carling drinking divvy doughnut England fan nightmares due to the Hand of God goal in 1986. That he mentally and physically destroyed Terry Butcher and Peter Shilton was bad enough. But the fact he effectively said God was Argentinian is something your England fan can't handle.

Apparently his tactics are to have a back four who never cross the half-way line, Mascherano snapping into the tackle and then passing it to Messi to do something genius.

Here's to 1986 all over again.

Julian Lloyd Webber assuages his lack of talent with short man sniping

I noticed in the Standard that Julian Lloyd Webber maintains his own sense of self-worth by insulting his more talented and successful brother on matters of height.

Julian, who is quite good at cello, is in the shadow of his older - and smaller - brother Andrew, who is the most successful songwriter this country has ever produced.

Here's what the cretinous Julian has to say:

"I'm poorer and not so famous as Andrew, this is true. But I'm about a foot taller than the man. It means I could easily take him out in a fight if I needed to, and we all know that, as men, this is all that counts...it's good to know I have the upper hand."

Poor old Julian. He might have had the pleasure of doing the 'sticking your hand on the little boy's forehead to stopping them making a swing for you' when he was younger, but he fundamentally minunderstands, and underestimates, the short man if he thinks height gives him the necessary advantage in a fight.

It might help in the boxing ring, but in reality, not really.

Here's why:

1. The short man is far more volatile and aggressive than his mediocre-sized male equivalent. We just are. We're angry. Think Joe Pesci in Goodfellas. We've all got a bit of that smash-you-over-the-head-with-a-telephone devil in us. And we never know when to stop.

2. If we think we might lose a fight, we would simply deploy some double-hard psycho to sort it out for us. I spent my school years carefully aligning myself with boys who liked to fight given the slightest excuse, and therefore rarely worried about the consequences of insulting someone.

There's a magnificent moment in the Ian Dury biopic Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll which exemplifies this point. Dury, who was half-paralysed by childhood polio, insults a bouncer. The bouncer attempts to attack him, only for the rest of Dury's band to pile in and give him a pasting.

So, while it is unlikely that the assorted cast of Cats and Phantom have quite got the fighting spirit of Ian Dury's men, I'm sure they'd be more than enough to swat Julian.