Ron Kantowski on the latest British Invasion to cross the Atlantic

Friday, Jan. 19, 2007 | 6:58 a.m.

This is how I would describe the past week in sports:

The British are coming.

Or they are already here.

The Britons who are coming, probably sometime in July, are David Beckham, the soccer sensation, and his pop-star wife, Victoria Adams, aka Posh Spice.

By now, you can probably find the name of Beckham, as in "Bend It Like," on the back of a Los Angeles Galaxy jersey at your local Wal-Mart. Instead of dollars or pounds, the Galaxy, which you may or may not know as a Major League Soccer franchise, is going to pay Becks, as he is called on the other side of the pond, in Savings and Loans. His 10-year, $250 million contract is the richest in the history of team sports.

The Britons who already are here are Ricky Hatton, the pride of Manchester, and about 3,000 of his most vocal - and thirsty - supporters. He and they will turn a ballroom at the Paris Hotel into the world's largest pub Saturday night when Hatton fights Juan Urango of Colombia for the IBF junior welterweight championship.

As far as British Invasions go, this may not be as significant as John, Paul, George and Ringo playing Shea Stadium. But I know the local fish-and-chips suppliers are diggin' it.

So are Tony Priest, Dave Hill and Marty Appleby, the three blokes who were occupying barstools two, three and four at the Crown & Anchor British pub on East Tropicana the other day. I was occupying stool one.

Tony, Dave and Marty were on holiday from Sheffield, England, which, the way they described it, sounds a lot like Gary, Ind., only with an accent and a lower crime rate. It's a brawny, industrial burg of about a half-million inhabitants, known for its steel mills and cutlery, Joe Cocker and the Thompson Twins, and its two football - er, soccer - teams, United and Wednesday.

It was Wednesday on Tuesday at the Crown as Sheffield Wednesday was playing Manchester City in the FA Cup, England's most prestigious football - er, soccer - tournament, on TV.

Sheffield, which plays in a lower division than Manchester City, lost 2-1, which might explain why the Sheffielders were still sitting on their stools a good three hours afterward, although, as they consoled each other over copper-colored pints of Boddington's bitter, the lads played well.

By then, their conversation had turned to Texas hold 'em - when in Caesars Palace, I guess - when I interrupted with a multipart question about Beckham, Hatton and the Dave Clark Five.

Two of the three are fans of the 31-year-old Beckham, who, like the great Pele of Brazil two generations ago, is being counted on to convert stubborn American sports fans into enthusiasts for soccer, a beautiful game (to use Pele's words) that the rest of the world has embraced like a long-lost loved one.

Here, it's more like a cold handshake between strangers.

"David Beckham has been a model professional, a model husband and a model father. There has been no better role model in English soccer," Hill said.

"But at the end of the day, it's how you were brought up," said Priest, interrupting his friend as if he were a fullback entering the 18-yard box. "You guys have American football, baseball, basketball and a little ice hockey. We've been brought up with our football since the 18th century."

In the long run, or at the end of the day, to use the British expression, that's something not even Beckham will be able to get his boot around with one of his physics-defying free kicks.

"But have I mentioned John Harkes?" said Hill, who had been mentioning John Harkes from the minute I sat down.

John Harkes is an American-born soccer player who began his professional career at Sheffield Wednesday and, judging from the three Wednesday supporters, is still more revered there than a 3-nil victory against United in the Steel City Derby.

Frankie Simic, another American, is a popular player for this year's Wednesday team. But most Americans wouldn't know Harkes and Simic if their names were inscribed on an American Express card.

That's why the Britons believe that while Beckham will have an impact on American sports, it most likely will be short-lived.

They believe in the long - er, at the end of the day - that Hatton could be even more popular than Beckham, at least in Los Angeles, because � well, he fights like a Mexican, always moving forward and taking punishment without flinching. He literally grew up in the bar that his parents owned, idolizing Roberto Duran (who is a Panamanian).

"You will never be disappointed watching Ricky Hatton fight," Hill said of the Englishman's mad-dog style, which would never be described as tea and crumpets, unless those were two more things you could throw at an opponent.

"He's like us," Priest said. "Maybe England doesn't always win, but you know we were there."

Whereas with Beckham you get style and champagne, with Hatton you get substance and a knuckle sandwich. That's the impression I got talking to their countrymen, who told me that, getting back to my original question, the Crystal Palace football team back home had adopted the Dave Clark Five's "Glad All Over" as its official anthem.

Having had all my questions answered, I excused myself to use the loo while they asked for the check.

When I returned, they had scribbled a message in my notebook.

"WHO WON THE RYDER CUP?" it said.

We laughed, but not nearly as hard as when the bartender handed them a check for $98.

"That's it?" I asked. "I thought you guys said you were from England."