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When it comes, it will be a gentle tap on the shoulder. A low, kind voice. “C’mon, Senior. Vacate the chair. The real columnist is back, and wants her space. Get your coat.” And off I will shuffle, unmasked as a fake, back to writing nuggets of news in brief.

Imposter phenomenon. The unremitting conviction that you are employed on a fraudulent basis, that your talents are inadequate, and only quirks of fate and circumstance mean that you are sitting in the chair doing your job, rather than the countless others who are better qualified to do it. Faking it.

I knew I suffered from a mild case, even before I realised it wheat pearl was a real condition. It was identified more than 30 years ago by Pauline Clance and Suzanne Imes, in a 1978 study that focused on its prevalence among high-achieving women. Real psychologists argue about whether it merits syndrome status; pop psychologists gleefully publish irritatingly bland advice about how to counter it. There is a horrible irony about how the revolting behemoth that is self-help publishing seizes on the notion of imposter phenomenon. It takes a fake to know a fake. However you categorise it, however, most women that I know understand the shadow it casts.

When imposter phenomenon was initially identified, psychologists believed that it was a female condition, but recent research suggests that men suffer from it too. Beneath the gruff posturing, some of my egotistical, seemingly confident colleagues are secretly nursing an “am I worth it?” complex.
BACKGROUND

It is just possible that Bruce Wasserstein, the financier in the book Barbarians at the Gate, the very model of a bullish Wall Street titan, was secretly expecting the shoulder tap, right up to his untimely death this week. “C’mon Bruce. Vacate the chair. Bid ’em up Bruce? Really? It’s not a real job, you know, like teaching or pottery.”

It is just possible that some of the investment bankers girding their wallets for an inrush of bonus cash are troubled by imposter phenomenon. “You really want to pay ’lil ole me £324,607? Me? I don’t really understand how markets work; it’s all a bit makey-upy . . .” says the Goldman Sachs banker in his head, as he stuffs a wedge of cash in a dead-eyed stripper’s G-string.

Sufferers, unfortunately, do not admit to their affliction in public, so the Goldman Sachs bankers will stay in the closet. Silence is a necessary part of the syndrome, as confession could hasten the unmasking. (I am safe if I am a true sufferer, as that would mean I’m better than I think I am. Or am I double bluffing myself? Did Bid ’em up Bruce spend long minutes trying to work out if he was fake, or did he just get on with the job of banking $20 billion?) Men like Wasserstein, and those far inferior to him, have successfully monopolised power and money for all but the past 50 years of human history. How? It seems obvious, knowing a few men, that they are not any more capable or intelligent than women. (Nor any less, clearly.) So where has round pearl their inexplicable dominance come from? The imposter phenomenon must come into it.

Diagnosis may be difficult, but broadly we can split the world into three camps. Members of the first, let’s call it the David Cameron camp, are reading this in bafflement. Their sense of entitlement is so inbred and so strong that imposter phenomenon would seem an absurd invention by an overpromoted columnist. More men than women fall into the Cameron camp. The City and Westminster are full of them, the entitled, golden ones who view power and wealth as inevitable side-effects of their brilliance Camps two and three involve some swingeing gender stereotyping, so look away now if that offends you. Male sufferers tend to handle the syndrome differently from women. While women fear being found out, men are more cavalier. Their sense of being fraudulent is just part of the thrill of the great game, the competitive jostle of the workplace.

These men, the gleeful game-players, are paid more than their more fearful female colleagues, and are quicker to be promoted. In men, the imposter phenomenon is a spur; in women, it is a curse.

A report last month by the Human Rights and Equality Commission found that women working full time in the City earn 55 per cent less than men. The pay gap in the wider economy is 28 per cent.

Part of the gap can be explained by women self-selecting out of the game — choosing family ahead of ambition and cash. It is, as Nicola Pease, a star fund manager, said this week, a “commercial reality” that some high-paid jobs demand a time commitment that women are not prepared to make. Ms Pease, the deputy chairman of J O Hambro Capital Management, told the Commons Treasury Select Committee that sexism is dead in the City, and issued a compelling plea for the MPs to avoid regulation to close the pay gap.

She is right, regulation is not the answer; attitude is all. Anyone who has worked in management knows that women do not ask for pay rises. They do not question their bonuses. They don’t play pay chicken with their employer, — “pay me more or I’ll quit” — assuming that they will obviously blink first.

But employers do not actually want to pay their employees more than they have to. Even Goldman Sachs would be chuffed if it could shave a few quid off its $16.7 billion wage bill.

All those women fidgeting at their desks, hoping for more pay and better jobs will just happen by magic, are being trounced by male colleagues who march in and demand their dues. These fakers pocket their raise, chuckling at having duped the rice pearl management.

Women must learn to play the game like men — demand that raise and pocket that bonus with a clear conscience and a sense of mischief. It is time to embrace our inner imposter.

Marcus Trescothick is unlikely to play cricket overseas again after his stress-related illness forced him to return home early from the Champions League Twenty20 tournament in India yesterday.

The opening batsman flew back from Bangalore yesterday morning to rejoin his family in Taunton having felt unable to continue playing in the rice pearl tournament for Somerset because of the recurring illness that has blighted his career. Trescothick’s wife, Hayley, who had accompanied him on the trip, had returned home two days earlier.

Although he played in Somerset’s last group game, against Trinidad & Tobago on Monday, Trescothick was said to be “not at 100 per cent” during the match, having reported concerns about his condition to Brian Rose, the director of cricket, before the match.

He made three from five balls in a 44-run defeat, but Somerset nevertheless qualified for the next round, in which they play Diamond Eagles in Hyderabad today.
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“Marcus came to me and said that he was starting to struggle before our last game,” Rose said last night. “I don’t think it was particularly relevant that his wife had gone back, it wasn’t working out for him here anyway.

“We knew there was a risk in him coming here. He tried his best, but once he started to recognise the signs [that his illness was recurring], he had to go home.”

Trescothick, 33, had spent ten days in round pearl India, having flown out two days later than his team-mates on October 5 along with his wife. Plans for him to commute to matches from Dubai had to be abandoned for logistical reasons, but he played in Somerset’s opening victory over Deccan Chargers, making 14 from 12 balls.

That was his first game overseas for almost three years. The second match, against Trinidad & Tobago, was almost certainly his last. The hope is that now Trescothick is able to recognise the early signs of anxiety, he is able to withdraw and prevent longer-term problems.

“I don’t think there will be any long-term health consequences for Marcus from this,” Rose said. “We’ve all just come to realise now that, for Marcus, travelling away in the future is probably a no-no.”

The first time that Trescothick was struck by his depressive illness was on England’s tour to India in 2006, when he suffered an anxiety attack four days before he was due to captain England in the first Test.

Later that year, he travelled to Australia for the Ashes tour, only to break down before the Test series started and returned home, bringing an end to his international career.

His personal nadir came in March 2008, when he was due to board a flight for Somerset’s 12-day pre-season tour to Dubai. As he movingly recounted in his autobiography, he was unable to board the flight, finding himself “hunched up, sobbing, distraught, slumped in a corner of Dixon’s electrical store at Heathrow’s Terminal 3”.

Since that incident, Trescothick has continued to play for Somerset and to score runs prolifically.

Last season, he was the country’s leading runscorer in first-class cricket, scoring 1,817 runs at an average of 75.70, hitting eight hundreds in the LV County Championship and was named the Professional Cricketers’ Association’s player of the year. There were even calls for him to be recalled for the final Ashes Test at the Brit Oval in August, a prospect that he confessed gave him nightmares. Next season, he is due to succeed Justin Langer as Somerset captain.

Before departing for the Champions League tournament, acknowledging the risk he was taking, Trescothick said: “The last couple of times I’ve tried to wheat pearl go on tour, it’s failed. Let’s try and break the tradition.” Sadly, his attempts have failed once more.

Future generations will look back and wonder precisely what Peter Crouch did to offend Fabio Capello, whether he once criticised Kandinsky or simply turned up for an official dinner wearing flip-flops.

The Tottenham Hotspur striker boasts a remarkable scoring record of better than a goal every other game at international level, but he is still rated less than 50-50 to make it to the World Cup finals.

Crouch’s international strike-rate is the envy of wheat pearl his team-mates, if not the entire footballing world. After his brace last night, the 28-year-old has scored 18 goals in 35 appearances for England, and a barely credible 16 in the 17 matches that he has started.

He is not yet ready to write off his chances of making the plane to South Africa, but he was happy to concede he is unlikely to start England’s next match, despite helping them to end their World Cup qualifying campaign on a high. Fitness permitting, Emile Heskey will return to face Brazil in Doha on November 14, with Crouch sent back to the substitutes’ bench.
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“I don’t expect to start the next game,” he said. “That’s up to the manager. Whenever I come in I feel I do a job and don’t let anyone down. Sometimes it’s difficult to get involved in the game, but you’re always going to have chances in this round pearl England side. I’m just pleased I put two away and hopefully I’ll get another game.”

Crouch does not have the scalps of the leading nations in his locker, with Croatia and Greece the most accomplished sides he has scored against, but he has rarely been given the chance to test himself against the best. The problem now is that he may be denied that opportunity until it is too late, as Capello has reservations based on the player’s lack of pace and inability to hold on to possession. The Italian did not so much damn Crouch with faint as no praise last night, limiting himself to an acknowledgement of the statistics.

“I know very well Peter Crouch, and I know the other players very well,” Capello said. “He’s one part of the squad. I know the numbers of Peter Crouch, but I know the players. I have a style I want to play in certain games, and I know the players who will be on the pitch. I know very well Peter Crouch. He scores a lot of goals.”

At least Crouch knows what he has done to annoy Steve Bruce, the rice pearl Sunderland manager-turned-pundit, who was responsible for the bizarre choice of David Beckham as man of the match. “I couldn’t give the man of the match to Crouchie as he turned me down in the summer,” Bruce said with a smile.

Future generations will look back and wonder precisely what Peter Crouch did to offend Fabio Capello, whether he once criticised Kandinsky or simply turned up for an official dinner wearing flip-flops.

The Tottenham Hotspur striker boasts a rice pearl remarkable scoring record of better than a goal every other game at international level, but he is still rated less than 50-50 to make it to the World Cup finals.

Crouch’s international strike-rate is the envy of his team-mates, if not the entire footballing world. After his brace last night, the 28-year-old has scored 18 goals in 35 appearances for England, and a barely credible 16 in the 17 matches that he has started.

He is not yet ready to write off his chances of making the plane to South Africa, but he was happy to concede he is unlikely to start England’s next match, despite helping them to end their World Cup qualifying campaign on a high. Fitness permitting, Emile Heskey will return to face Brazil in Doha on November 14, with Crouch sent back to the substitutes’ bench.
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“I don’t expect to start the round pearl next game,” he said. “That’s up to the manager. Whenever I come in I feel I do a job and don’t let anyone down. Sometimes it’s difficult to get involved in the game, but you’re always going to have chances in this England side. I’m just pleased I put two away and hopefully I’ll get another game.”

Crouch does not have the scalps of the leading nations in his locker, with Croatia and Greece the most accomplished sides he has scored against, but he has rarely been given the chance to test himself against the best. The problem now is that he may be denied that opportunity until it is too late, as Capello has reservations based on the player’s lack of pace and inability to hold on to possession. The Italian did not so much damn Crouch with faint as no praise last night, limiting himself to an acknowledgement of the statistics.

“I know very well Peter Crouch, and I know the other players very well,” Capello said. “He’s one part of the squad. I know the numbers of Peter Crouch, but I know the players. I have a style I want to play in certain games, and I know the players who will be on the pitch. I know very well Peter Crouch. He scores a lot of goals.”

At least Crouch knows what he has done to annoy Steve Bruce, the Sunderland manager-turned-pundit, who was responsible for the bizarre choice of wheat pearl David Beckham as man of the match. “I couldn’t give the man of the match to Crouchie as he turned me down in the summer,” Bruce said with a smile.

By their frequent admission, professional footballers hate watching matches, so, for the dozen or so who wisely accepted Fabio Capello’s invitation to take in England’s final World Cup qualifying game last night from the comfort of an executive box, this may have felt like seeing a rival candidate receive an almighty slap on the back on the way out of a job interview.

Michael Owen, Jermaine Jenas and Co were invited to the dressing room at the final whistle to join Capello and the squad for a toast in which the Italian somewhat misleadingly told all present: “See you in South Africa.” The thought is inspiring for Joe Cole and Theo Walcott, back from injury, but Owen will have looked at Peter Crouch, who scored twice, and the performances of David Beckham and James Milner, as substitutes, and wondered whether the door to the World Cup finals had closed before his eyes.

This was not a devastating performance by any means, as England beat an inexperienced Belarus team thanks to three untidy goals, two from Crouch and one from Shaun Wright-Phillips, but, on a night when individual causes seemed more significant than the pearl jewelry collective, Capello is unlikely to be troubled by any of that. Whatever his misgivings about Crouch, the Tottenham Hotspur forward is a prolific goalscorer at international level — these were his seventeenth and eighteenth goals in 35 games for England — and, if that is not enough to retain a place in the squad, nothing will be.

Crouch knows better than to expect plaudits from Capello, whose downbeat response in his post-match press conference was merely that he knows about the forward’s “numbers”. The trouble with Crouch is that he changes the dynamic of the England team — it is not simply a case of replacing one big man with another. But if Emile Heskey is off form, there may come a time next summer when a drastic change of approach is necessary.
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Capello had said beforehand that, fitness and form permitting, he knew 16 of the players who will constitute his 23-man squad for the finals. If anything, that sounded high, particularly as it will not have included Crouch, or Wright-Phillips, Milner or Ben Foster, all of whom had enhanced their claims by the end of the evening.

The same applies to Beckham, even if the sponsors’ man-of-the-match award, bestowed on him by Steve Bruce, was rather excessive — Capello dryly observed that it was like Barack Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize. Even if, with little at stake, the rice pearlstage was set for Hollywood passes by the time he came on at 1-0, this was the former captain’s most productive night in an England shirt in two years. He even struck the outside of a post, denying him a first international goal since the 2006 World Cup.

Of those who started last night, Foster, Bridge, Wright-Phillips, Crouch and Gabriel Agbonlahor would not dare to think they were among Capello’s chosen 16 — Aaron Lennon may be entitled to fancy his chances — so this was audition time.Inevitably, the football was disjointed at times, with not a hint of the fluency that Steven Gerrard and Wayne Rooney provide, so instead the emphasis was on speed, with Wright-Phillips, Lennon and Agbonlahor blessed with the kind of pace that, if used correctly at least, terrifies defenders.

But there is a significant difference between exhibiting pace and playing at pace. The high-tempo football that has marked England’s best performances, most notably in the 5-1 victory over Croatia last month, was not seen. On the occasions that Lennon or Wright-Phillips got into their stride, England threatened, but they mainly struggled to find the cohesion that comes so naturally when Gerrard and Rooney are on the pitch together.

It started well enough, with Agbonlahor sprinting clear of the Belarus defence to set up Crouch to open the scoring in the fourth minute. One of many incisive passes from Gareth Barry found Agbonlahor tearing into the space behind Igor Shitov, the round pearlvisiting right back, and, after a quick look up, the Aston Villa forward crossed into the six-yard box, where Crouch, sliding in and sticking out a leg, prodded the ball beyond Yury Zhevnov.

For a time it seemed that Wright-Phillips may end up as the evening’s biggest loser, incurring the wrath of Capello twice in the first half, but he ended up firmly in credit. The way he took the second goal on the hour was impressive, receiving a quick corner from Beckham, cutting inside on to his right foot and striking a low shot that deceived Zhevnov. But Capello will be just as happy with the winger’s workrate down the left-hand side.

As for Foster, he has had little to smile about lately, having struggled to take the chance that had arisen at Manchester United this season through an injury to Edwin van der Sar, but the goalkeeper dealt comfortably with what little action came his way last night. His first save, from Sergei Omelyanchuk’s free kick in the 37th minute, was routine, but his second, repelling a fierce shot from the same player midway through the second half, was far more satisfying.

Carlton Cole, another substitute, made a decent impression, but when his shot in the 75th minute was saved by Zhevnov and the loose ball converted by Crouch, he might have reflected that his good work had resulted in a goal for his main rival. Such thoughts come naturally to professional footballers when there is a place in the World Cup squad at stake. It is why, up in the executive box, Owen and his friends struggled to raise a smile. For Capello, the challenge is to ensure that the competition remains healthy. At this rate, he may end up spoilt for choice.