No one wears an open-throated shirt quite like that brawny slab of manhood. They can never take that from him.
It was inevitable that Le Grand Sam was going to get dragged out behind the Soho Square woodshed, lowing like an orphaned calf, after he was filmed lounging in Wings, eyeing that lager lovingly like the end of Ice Cold In Alex, his gut hanging over his kecks, just waiting for him to grab it in both hands, give it a jiggle and declare ‘bloody well bought and paid for, that’.
He skitted the notoriously thin-skinned FA, ensuring that it would be almost impossible for them or him to operate normally without being suffocated by the media harking back to his gloriously indiscrete comments. Both parties knew the gig was up and fair play, they never hung about before getting to the inevitable conclusion.
Still though, does no one else think the whole thing is a bit rum? Particularly the media’s hand in the whole thing?
Listening to Alan Green and Chris ‘Chrissy’ Waddle on Radio 5 last night made you want to swerve the car into oncoming traffic.
As they both thrashed about spewing the usual meaningless ‘the game’s gone’ non sequiturs, Green declared: ‘Why would someone on £3.5 million a year want £400 thousand? Is there just too much money in the game?’
Well, let’s be frank here, that particular £400k isn’t in the game, because it never existed, which is surely the crux of all this. And as for why Allardyce was interested in it, well, probably because using Green’s figures it represented almost two month’s pay in return for an all expenses paid holiday. Who wouldn’t want to at least talk about it? Nearly half a million snots for staying in boss hotels, shaking hands and filling your insatiable pie-hole?
Sign me up, er, what did you say your name was again?
It looks like the Telegraph were trying to lift the lid on the ‘bung culture’, found relatively little, so engineered a story by winning Allardyce’s trust, offering him an easy-money, too-good-to-be-true little deal, and then basically embarrassing him out of his job.
The ethics of that seem almost as questionable as the Bolton icon’s opinions on the third-party ownership rules.
Which kind of brings us back Green, Waddle and the rest of the media and their faux-disgust with ‘the way the game’s going’. The big elephant dropping in the room here being that none of them would have a job, or at least one as high-profile and presumably well-paid, if it wasn’t for this modern soccer circus that they proclaim to wish was still the preserve of working class fellas with rattles and cloth caps.
Give over, seriously.
Waddle is guilty of one of the most cringe-making bits of broadcasting ever, when he gave that ‘heartfelt’ rant about grassroots football when England got knocked out of some tournament or other – they all blur into one. And as for Green, if we’re presently staring at the bloated, rotting corpse of ‘the beautiful game’, as he claims, well, you can pretty much work out what that makes him.
The whole England setup, from the arrogant players, the massively over-paid managers and the massive arseholes who sit around over croissants in their bad Ted Baker shirts stroking their chins over it on Sunday Suppository, just feels like something the Daily Mail created to satisfy sexually-thwarted, racist Home Counties cabbies.
The Telegraph are calling it football’s nadir. It may be, but it’s one they have more than a hand in.
It’s like watching a scabby dog eat its own shite.
All that said though, did you see the state of Allardyce’s Armani pumps? His holiday ones? He wants sacking just for them.