On the back of everything that has come out lately in the Eni Aluko affair, I have been doing a little digging in the last few days to look at how the previous Football Association regime reacted when Roy Hodgson tried to home-spin a joke and got himself into all sorts of bother at half‑time of England’s World Cup qualifier against Poland in October 2013.

Hodgson would probably rather it be forgotten about now, coming up for four years later, but Aluko herself has made the point that there is a world of difference between her own story and the time England’s then manager was instructing his players to get the ball more quickly to Andros Townsend and used the line “feed the monkey”, apparently assuming they would know the full version of the old Nasa space monkey joke.

That one blew over eventually and Townsend came out to say no offence had been meant or taken. Yet it is worth pointing out that within 24 hours of the Sun’s front-page splash of “Roy in Andros monkey gaffe” Townsend had been contacted by a senior Football Association executive to get his take on what had happened. Not just Townsend, either. Every single player in the dressing room received a call that day. But Townsend, first and foremost, as the player to whom the comment was directed.

It strikes me as a reasonable way to do things and, when it comes to the events surrounding Mark Sampson, the England Women manager, it does leave an awkward question for the authorities about why everything is done and dusted, as far as the FA is concerned, without the player involved in one of Aluko’s allegations getting so much as a two-minute telephone call.

Not a lot has been heard about this player’s views since the story first came out that Sampson had allegedly left her “distressed” by asking her, a mixed-race player, how many times she had been arrested. She asked for her name to be left out of the Guardian’s coverage and her club requested the same. Yet she has been named now in another newspaper and, as I’m sure she was aware, that was probably just inevitable after the FA subsequently published its findings without bothering to redact the bits that identified her. The clues were all there for everyone to see: a mixed-race midfielder from Chelsea playing for England at the China Cup in October 2015. It didn’t need too much detective work. There was only one mixed-raced midfielder on that trip, leaving aside knowing what club she played for.

How would you imagine that player feels, therefore, that the FA’s explanation for never having asked her what happened was that it did not know her identity? And what do you imagine that player thinks about two separate investigations deciding Sampson’s alleged comment – “Haven’t you been arrested before? Four times isn’t it?” – never happened without deeming it necessary to speak to her?

It is an incredible story. Forget Aluko for one moment and everything that has come out since. There is another player here who is wondering why two different inquiries – one by the FA and another by a barrister, Katharine Newton, on behalf on the FA – have taken place without feeling it relevant to get in touch. And here’s the thing: that player has put what happened in writing to Aluko to back up her team‑mate by saying, yes, it did happen.

In a search for the truth, it would have been a simple telephone call. Townsend got one. Every single player in Hodgson’s team got one. Yet the mixed-race women’s player whose evidence, presumably, could have been vital was never asked. And never will be, judging by the FA’s attempts to ride out the storm and move on as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately for the FA, it is difficult to imagine it passing soon when, to offer some context about what the Professional Footballers’ Association makes of it, the players’ union wrote a letter to the FA last November describing the internal inquiry as “not a genuine search of the truth” and “a sham which was not designed to establish the truth but intended to protect Mark Sampson”. Kick it Out has called for a new independent inquiry. The PFA says the whole process should start again and the shadow sports minister, Rosena Allin-Khan, agrees. But it isn’t going to happen. It’s done, as far as the FA is concerned. Nothing to see here. Never mind the fact Greg Clarke, the FA chairman, is fond of portraying himself as a man who demands transparency. “I have a propensity to think that transparency is a wonderful thing,” Clarke once said. “When you see countries and companies who are not transparent, terrible things happen.” Absolutely.

So, what next? England Women have a game against Russia in a few weeks and already the PR machine is clanking into gear. Gareth Southgate, choosing his words carefully with three press officers in close proximity, has already given Sampson a character reference. Next, it will be a selection of carefully picked players. Talks are already taking place behind the scenes to fine-tune the media strategy. The FA might not be transparent. At times like this, however, it is see-through.

“They want everybody sounding robotic,” Lianne Sanderson, one of the players backing Aluko, tells me. “After every game, they tell you exactly what to say in interviews. Someone with a clipboard will give you the messages and key phrases they want you to say. Or they will write them on a whiteboard so everyone can see. It’s the same with your tweets. They want to control everything.”

The word that she uses is “brainwashing”. Aluko says other players are “terrified” to speak out, fearing they will lose their place, and Anita Asante, another black player, says there is a culture at the FA to “mollycoddle the people in power and make sure that nothing can touch them”. These three players have a combined 222 caps and, presumably, have a fair idea what they are talking about. And there is a fourth player, remember, who has never been in trouble with the police, in case you are wondering, but who has not gone public yet because she thinks it will damage her England career. Ironically, she has not been picked again by England anyway, despite the feeling at Chelsea that she is in the best form of her life.

As for Sampson, it is a pity he has been deprived of the opportunity to explain why he thinks he is the victim here, rather than the players making the accusations. Even if he wanted to talk, the truth is the FA would not allow it. Yet it is important to note that in every article we have emphasised he has been cleared of wrongdoing and, before publication, we have given him the opportunity to give his side of the story.

We know he denies all the allegations and that Newton says she has seen a video recording, filmed by an FATV cameraman, of the relevant China Cup meeting without it throwing up any evidence. But why does he think Aluko, a qualified lawyer as well as being one of the stars of the game, described by the FA’s technical director, Dan Ashworth, as an “iconic England player”, would make up the story that Sampson told her to make sure her Nigerian relatives didn’t bring Ebola to Wembley? Why would Sanderson, referring to the alleged incident at the China Cup, tell this correspondent she can remember “a lot of the girls were talking about it”? And why would the other Chelsea player in this story, on her first England call-up and presumably keen to make a favourable impression, raise such an unusual and damaging allegation?

Presumably, Sampson knows that player’s name and, though it has taken some time, I’m pleased to report the FA appears to have joined the dots, too. Previously, the FA had stuck by the highly questionable line that it did not know who it was because Aluko had “refused” to say. Yet Aluko, most reasonable people would agree, had supplied more than enough clues for the investigation while also taking great care to protect her team-mate in her public statements. It was a Chelsea colleague, she had told the FA, who was born and raised in south London, on her first (and last) England camp and an unused substitute in the following game against China. It took me roughly 45 seconds to work out her name and, hallelujah, the FA got there in the end. “Well, of course, I knew that,” as Inspector Clouseau used to say.

Why labour this point? Simple, really. This is the story the FA tried to keep quiet by awarding Aluko an £80,000 settlement, including a confidentiality agreement, about something the organisation said never happened in the first place. The FA, for reasons it will not share, refused to hand over the video of the China Cup incident to prove to Aluko’s lawyers it is the correct recording. Yet nothing looks worse than the decision not to interview the relevant player and the reasons that have been given since. Would that player’s account have dramatically changed the FA’s findings? It is impossible to answer that for certain, but yes, in theory. It might also have been a useful exercise for the FA’s credibility, one presumes, at a time when the so-called guardians of the game have been accused of presiding over a wretched, barely plausible sham.

Wrong to blame Calvert-Lewin

Fernandinho has been offering his thoughts on why Kyle Walker was not involved for his new club in their dramatic win at Bournemouth and it is clear whom Manchester City’s Brazilian midfielder holds responsible.

“It’s tough to say something about a referee’s decision,” Fernandinho said, referring to Walker’s red card in Monday night’s 1-1 draw against Everton. “You have to be careful. But we are in the Premier League and it is so demanding. When you have players who dive and are so soft, it is a little bit weird.”

The player he meant was Dominic Calvert-Lewin and I must admit, watching that red-card incident from the City press box, it did feel dispiriting on the night that a talented young player would resort to what I described in the match report as “amateur dramatics”.

Jamie Carragher, in his television duties, said the Everton player had let himself down over “absolutely nothing” and over the last few days it has been put forward as the kind of incident the FA should be investigating now it has the powers to punish players with two-game bans for deceiving match officials.

That, however, is wrong. The incident was viewed by the FA’s on-field regulation team and a new camera angle showed Walker’s right shoulder banged into Calvert‑Lewin’s jaw as they jostled for position contesting for a high ball. That doesn’t mean it was right to show Walker a second yellow card. But it does clear Calvert‑Lewin from accusations that he is another of the sport’s pickpockets. He isn’t, and doesn’t deserve the criticism that he has been facing.

Real hacked off by Messi hoax

That was some transfer announced by Real Madrid’s official Twitter account on Saturday. “Benvingut Messi! Bienvenido Messi! Welcome Messi! Bienvenue Messi! #Messi,” it trumpeted, accompanied by a video of the man himself scoring in a clásico.

Launched at 5.30am (BST), it was also early enough in the morning not to be noticed by the people in charge of Madrid’s account. Cue 27,000 retweets in 45 minutes until, finally, someone seemed to get word through to the Bernabéu that they might have been hacked.

Not for the first time, the thought occurs that football before Twitter was a lot more straightforward place. And it is easy to imagine there are a few clubs nervously changing their passwords.