So it’s not earth-shattering news to announce that the very top footballers earn fortunes these days. If it takes me say an hour to write this posting (for fun of course), in the same time Wayne Rooney will have earned about £1800 from Man Utd. That’s the rate at which a salary of £300,000 per week gets drawn down. And that’s just the club money. Add to this his endorsements, sponsorship deals, image rights earnings, online gaming fees, social media earnings and investments and the figures are multiplied several times. So he’s probably earning closer to £10,000 every 60 minutes of the day that passes.
Regular readers will know how much I love my wonderful three grandsons. Yesterday we spent the day with my youngest E, who was a little under the weather with a cold but who still managed to light up a grey day with his smiles. Last week we caught up with smashing grandson G on his birthday. I picked him up from school with his dad and was able to surprise him with a small gift I’ve been promising him for ages that he can only have once he’d turned 7 – a packet of chewing gum. He tried a piece enthusiastically but I wasn’t sure he enjoyed the Airwaves menthol and eucalyptus flavour. He liked his real pressies more I think. Bless him. Finally My eldest grandson S telephoned just the other evening to confirm he’d been offered a trial by Northampton football club which he was so excited about. Me too! He’s such an accomplished sportsman and this crowned a big week for him having won a gold medal for winning an mixed age 200 metres event at an inter-school athletics meeting as well as not one, but two cup finals. He’s the nearest of course to achieving his dream of becoming a professional footballer. We don’t know of course what the future holds for them but they can be assured that we will support them in whatever endeavour they choose. My only hope for S is that should he fulfill his ambition, he doesn’t turn out to be a footballer with a skin as thin as Yaya Toure.
This isn’t a posting about football as such but I was amused to read some words this weekend from a Premiership manager who showed once again the ex-footballer truism; that his brains and modesty are distant cousins from his mouth. The manager is Alan Pardew who, in case you don’t know, was recently banned from all stadia for 3 matches for head-butting a player during a Premiership match. It sounds incredibly hot-headed and thuggish but it’s true. Then again he is employed by Newcastle United, a club which seems to have learned all about sound governance from Led Zeppelin’s management team in the 70’s, which pays Mr Pardew just the £1.5M per year to set a fine example to its playing staff and recently rewarded Alan with an 8 year virtually unbreakable contract. Anyway the manager was back in the dressing room for this week-end’s match against Southampton after seeing his side lose two games in his absence, although he will not actually be allowed on the touchline for another 4 games. At the pre-match briefings he told the listening journos that ‘It’s good to be back. You have that relationship with players. Put on top my personality, which we all know is a bit of a winning mentality (it’s true I swear) and I want to make sure we win’. Well no doubt inspired by the return of their smart silver-haired manager and his profound words, the Newcastle team ran out and received a proper gubbing, losing 4-0 and it could easily have been double that. Ahh Alan, you’re the Sultan of Self-Centredness and you just can’t stop yourself from saying things that give me real pleasure. It’s that winnning personality eh.
So SAF’s retired and will be replaced by Everyon’s David Moyes, Mancini and his valet have left the Etihad, Pulis has been sacked from Stoke, Martinez is thinking about both that job and the Everton vacancy, Mourinho’s leaving Real and heading back to Chelsea, maybe, to replace Benitez who’s heading everywhere there’s a vacancy it seems now that his CV is all glitzty again. Yes it’s football’s pantomine season when club chairmen don their Baron Hardup outfits and seek to replace their ugly sister managers with a shiney new Buttons.
Well it’s all football headlines at the moment but this could be my last on the subject in this current spell. So Chelsea win the Europa League trophy. Ho hum. I’m delighted that it’s an English winning team of course but they should really have been whupped last night if Benfica had had a fox in the box. The thing is they are a joyless bunch and I find it very hard to take any delight in their success or like and admire anything about them. Continue reading
Well this is just a quick little posting to say how disappointed I was to see Wigan lose last night and get relegated. I won’t get into all that Spurs v Arsenal stuff because I have several mates on both sides of the N London divide. But I don’t think Wigan were anywhere near the 3rd worst side in the Premiership as their win in the Cup proved. Continue reading
Well that was one helluva week-end of celebrations eh? Firstly the Cup Final was brilliant, a real old fashioned David v Goliath tussle and outcome. Mighty moneybags Man Citteh humbled by homespun little Wigan. And the Latics deserved it. And did you know this is the first time in the history of the Cup that the last 3 winning managers’ have had the same Christian name? But don’t you imagine that the fat burghers of the FA might have imagined that the name would be something like Wilfred or Bernard, rather than Roberto, when they created the competition 150 years ago? Cosi divertente.
Anyway on to the main celebrations and Old Trafford was a sea of sentimentality as they honoured the achievements of Sralex, said goodbye to the little genius Paul Scholes (and unwittingly probably the same thing to wayward genius Wayne Rooney), celebrated the winning of the Premiership trophy for the 20th time and they also won a game too with a cracking match-winning volley from goal shy Rio Ferdinand. Blimey, if you were ever going to attend a match at Old Trafford this season, that was it. I also rather like the shot of Sralex above. I see this and can imagine him singing…
‘I left my heart down Salford Quays, oh,
near Cheetham Hill, it calls to me.
To be where Metrolink cars climb halfway to the stars
Rooney’s mood may chill the air, I don’t care….
my love’s elsewhere, in Sandown Park noo.
Ah they don’t write them like that anymore. And once the applause died down SAF gave a speech was pure Fergie when he kind of summed up the essence of Manchester United as he addressed the players;
‘You know how good you are. You know the jersey you are wearing. You know what it means to be here. Don’t let yourself down’
Enough said. They should hang those words on the home dressing-room wall.
If a man could design his own send off that was probably it. Marvellous. Not many achieve anything like that in football (though rather neatly his successor, David Moyes, did get a little close at Everton on Sunday too) as today’s sacking of Citteh manager Mancini amplifies. I’ve always rather liked old Roberto but delivering City’s first trophy successes and title in over 40 years (albeit with the help of £1Bn investment in players etc) didn’t matter in the end. SAH had triumphed again; his final act silencing that particular noisy neighbour. He’s going to be missed when he’s gone – I mean SAF of course!
ps And as a little welcome to Old Trafford present for David Moyes, there’s a gift-wrapped Wilfried Zaha who put in a 5 star performance with two goals to take Crystal Palace into the play-off final last night. Mouth watering. I bet Moyes can’t wait to get started.