The Joy Of Becks

His face has launched a thousand tabloids. His broken metatarsal last year had a nation united in healing prayer. He's a happy-husband role model for reformed football louts everywhere, the blackest white guy in Britain, a sex object lusted after by straight women and gay men alike (and he's okay with that). Photogenic, ferociously competitive and married to the former Posh Spice, England soccer captain and Manchester United star David Beckham has for years been one of the world's most celebrated sportsmen. But more recently the adulation seems to have gone over the top. It isn't just that diehard football fans idolize the midfielder's weighted passes and dead-ball expertise or that diehard fashionistas emulate his urban style. And it isn't just that Becks knows how to work the spotlight. So does Tony Blair — but more Britons want to be Beckham (or at least be his partner). "It's nice to be looked upon by different sets of people, to have those accolades," Beckham told TIME. "But you always have those moments when you think, 'Why are they saying this about me?'" He and his wife, Victoria, "just sort of get on with it. We try to stay grounded. We don't read articles to each other and say, 'We're icons!'"

But icons they are. In many nations Beckham's celebrity borders on hysteria. In Japan, "Bekkamu" has name recognition of over 90%. So established is his popularity in the Far East that almost half of his corporate sponsors — such as the Tokyo Beauty Center and Meiji confectionery — concentrate on the Asia-Pacific region. But it is overarching commercial partners such as Adidas and Pepsi that will likely drive the next step in the globalization of David Beckham — the hard-to-crack U.S. market. "I'd love to be recognized over there," he says, although he knows that in the U.S., soccer is a minnow compared to whales like basketball. There's an uncomplicated adulation, he suggests, that he'd like to have a piece of. "I like the way [Americans] look up to Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods. I'm sure they criticize [their players] but not to the extent where they're putting their own people and their own stars down."

Becks has reason to be sensitive. His own mythology took a nasty jolt in 1998, when he was sent off the field for a display of aggressive petulance during a World Cup tie between England and Argentina. After that, England supporters heaped abuse on him during games. But he brought his temper under control, upped his play and in late 2000 was appointed England captain. The fans fell into line, particularly when his score from a last-ditch free kick secured England's automatic qualification for World Cup 2002. A penalty goal against Argentina in that tournament sealed the turnaround. Our hero had passed through the valley of darkness and emerged a better man. "This country likes to see a young person do well," says Beckham, "then get knocked down, then pick themselves up again."

So many athletes melt under the glare of publicity, but Beckham handles it deftly. He speaks with great affection of his two young sons, who, he says, have changed his priorities forever. And he has found ways to give something back. He and Victoria recently set up a charitable foundation, and they support the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children and groups that combat childhood illness. "I like to talk to children," he says. "Sometimes they are ill or disadvantaged — it makes you realize how very lucky you are." Plenty of people envy Becks for who he is and how he looks and how he lives. But give him a nod for knowing how good he's got it, and handling it all with a bit of grace.