No, don’t laugh. It could have happened to a bishop. When England hired Fabio Capello, they thought he was just the man – great record of working with successful football teams, a no-nonsense guy who’d bash some sense into inflated English footballers’ heads. Oh dear. Four years and £24 million later, it turns out he did nothing for the England team. Let’s see, now: manager who’s successful with practically all his other teams draws a total blank with England team. Is it Capello’s fault or might it be…No, no, don’t go there. And stop sniggering at the back.
The thing is, what now? Well, it looks like ‘Arry Redknapp is favourite, fresh from his that-money-was-only-resting-in-my-account trial. The bookies have stopped taking odds on him, especially since Rooney tweeted that Capello was a ‘top manager’ but the next one “must be English – Redknapp for me”.
Trouble is, ‘Arry has escaped the clutches of the vile Inland Revenue, but he’s manager of Spurs at present and their top man Daniel Levy is notorious for driving very hard bargains. So it’ll cost more than that £24 million that was thrown down the drain if they want to get ‘Arry. And there’s so little time. Omigod. What to do?
Fear not - I have an idea. Did you see where David Cameron yesterday said the reason British industry is in the doldrums is, there aren’t enough women in the board rooms? What England clearly needs is a woman manager. With all due respect, I offer you – Her Majesty. She has said she’ll serve her country as long as she possibly can, and this is one case where her country needs her. True, she’s more into the killing-animals sort of sport than soccer, but don’t forget, both Wills and Harry (as distinct from ‘Arry) have both attended at least one soccer match. They could get down with the guys and give her regular ground-level reports on how the players are feeling about things. And her husband, of course, could help with tips on how to denigrate the opposition – those Asians with their slanty eyes, the Scots who are always drunk, the Indians who haven’t a clue. The confidence in the English dressing-room would hit an all-time high by the time Phil the Greek was through. And best of all, Her Majesty wouldn’t ask for a salary. Well, no more than the £40 million she gets each year already. It’s a match made in heaven.
Come on, let’s be having you – and please, don’t say you’re going to support the Republic of Ireland this summer. Eng-er-land, Eng-er-land, ENG-ER-LAND!