Saturday, June 20, 2009

Spitting the dummy

There are some names that strike direct to the heart of everything that is wrong with modern football. Names that instantly conjure all the festering greed and cynicism that forces the decent majority to put pegs on their noses before entering a stadium. Names that corrode the face of football, hollow out its heart, and auction its soul. Parasites bleeding money out of the game and putting absolutely nothing back in. And the worst of the lot is Kia Joorabchian.
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I don’t know the full, tangled details as to how he came to be in a position to pimp Carlos Tevez around the football clubs of Europe, but the upshot, as announced today, is that a thoroughly decent man leaves our football club and pins his hopes on that ship of fools across town. I’d like to think that we get the measure of a man from the way he plays football. If so, Carlos, is a man of honesty and integrity, without side or malicious intent. I fail to believe that such a man would ever consider it to be in his best interests to don the lazer-blue.
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Am I therefore mistaken or naïve in imagining him so above the sordid world of money? Perhaps. Maybe United have wounded his sense of pride by refusing to stump up an agreed asking price. Maybe the chafing of being tethered to the bench was too much to bear. Rotation’s all very well, but when you’re rotated out of the very biggest games, it might start to grate.
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Ultimately I think Carlos himself is the biggest loser in all this. Kia Joorabchian will bank his fat fee and Carlos himself will see his wage swell, but let’s face it, the asking price, for a player with such a one-dimensional game was, exorbitant. On the back of Ronnie’s exit, United fans of a certain ilk –mainly the ones who never visit OT never mind follow the team away from home - will be calling for all kinds of vengeance to rain down on Fergie and Gill if suitably hyped replacements aren’t bought. The more level-headed will rue the loss of his tireless running, not to mention that we’re currently without a reason to goad the three-lions brigade with Argentina chants. But there’s only one winner in this mess, and it isn’t that man we all adore.