My Application for the England Manager's Job

In today’s modern society, it is perfectly normal for
somebody to catch up on news through a quick scan of their Twitter feed. At lunchtime today I was scrolling through my timeline from this morning when I found that, at exactly the same time as Fabio Capello’s arrival at Wembley for talks regarding his comments about John Terry, the jury were signalling a not-guilty verdict had been reached in Harry Redknapp’s tax-evasion trial. Almost poetically the next England Manager-elect was being given a reprieve from a sticky situation, as the current manager was explaining the comments that had made his leadership virtually untenable.

Later on this evening, the final piece in the ‘Harry’s perfect day puzzle’ fell into place, as Capello resigned leaving the job that Redknapp is 2/7 favourite to fill, available. However, all is not yet clear. Harry Redknapp has unfinished business at a blossoming Tottenham Hotspur, who, having built a squad of real quality, are determined to hang-on to their prize assets,
and ‘Arry is certainly one of those. Whether Daniel Levy, the Spurs chairman, will be willing to allow Redknapp manage England as well as Tottenham until the end of the season I’m not so sure, so this could result in Stuart Pearce keeping the job on a temporary basis until the European Championships this summer, and even then, will Harry be able to pass up the opportunity to have another crack at the Champions League next season?

This dilemma, along with the hash-tag topic on Twitter, #ReasonsWhyIShouldBeEnglandManager, has led me to believe it is my duty as a patriotic England supporter, to offer my services. What follows is my application and open letter to the Football Association that I have also emailed to them…

Dear Sirs,
It has come to my attention that following on from discussions today at the home of football, England manager Fabio Capello has resigned from his role, leaving you with the duty to fill that position.

There are many excellent candidates for the role, with under 21s boss Stuart Pearce,
Alan Pardew at Newcastle, and Harry Redknapp all worthy of honourable mentions. Following on from rumours surrounding these managers who have proven themselves in professional circumstances, a flurry of informal applications may have come to your attention via social networking site Twitter. Many of these applicants possess glittering CVs across different editions of Football Manager, including success at the highest level of club, and International football.
Like Mr. Redknapp and Mr. Pardew, I am able to fill one vital area of requirement. Being born and raised in England, and through following the international team, I would fit the bill regarding an English successor to another failed foreign manager, and I fully understand the
expectations of the fans, having sat with them in front of my television and at Wembley on cold evenings, during the Euro 2008 qualifying campaign. Following on from this, I don’t particularly like umbrellas, so the chances of an embarrassing picture of me sheltering from the rain whilst my players toil, appearing in the national press, are extremely slim.

Like the Football Manager enthusiasts of Twitter, I can boast a successful run with varying teams, and a history of getting the best out of different types of, and standards of player. I turned the Everton team of 2004/2005 into the greatest team on the planet across a four year period that culminated in multiple Champions League successes, before moving on to England where I tasted success in World and European Cups. My work at Everton didn’t go unnoticed as David Moyes proceeded to sign Yakubu, Andy Van Der Meyde, Tim Howard and Phil Jagielka within two years of me doing so in the game.

Other highly successful managerial spells have followed including domestic league and cup success at Chelsea and Liverpool over a four year period, a dominant spell with a talented, but previously ill-disciplined, Spain, under the pseudonym ‘Mr. Bean’. Most recently though, I’ve enjoyed two successive promotions with lowly Chelmsford into the Football League, and a
devastating six year period in charge of Manchester United in which I built upon Sir Alex Ferguson’s success by rebuilding and winning four Champions League in six years, and holding all seven possible trophies at the same time, with a team captained by Wayne Rooney.

As I assume the realistic nature of Football Manager is not up for question I’d like to highlight the success my Rooney-led team had as encouragement for allowing Wayne and I to form this partnership of coach and captain in real life. Rooney’s form is instrumental for that of England as his record throughout the World Cup qualifying campaign, and then the contrasting finals in South Africa testify, and as captain, and under my guidance, Rooney was unstoppable.

As well as my FM record, and enviable relationship with England’s star player, I bring a
level-headedness and patience to a job that hasn’t been present for a very long time. My common-sense and logic would allow me to adapt to whatever situation the England team may find itself in, and I would intend to only take players to the tournament that I intended to play, which would surely place me as slightly more suited to the high pressure role than Sven proved himself to be when selecting Theo Walcott for the 2006 World Cup.

I look forward to discussing my availability with you very soon, as we look to shape an England team that can succeed at the highest level, will include a goalkeeper unafraid of stopping opposition goals, and won’t include Emile Heskey. Please feel free to get in touch by tweeting me
@RichardJude to discuss terms or to clarify my stance on any matters that may
concern you.

Regards,

Richard Jude

The Brilliance of Djokovic, The Plight of JT and The Tale of 4 Penalties.

A week that began with Novak Djokovic defeating Rafael Nadal in what I believe to be the second best exhibition of tennis of the 21^st century, behind only the Federer-Nadal Wimbledon final of 2008, is coming to end with Howard Webb trending on Twitter.

Starting on a positive note, the Australian open final showed exactly what Djokovic and Nadal have that Andy Murray still seems to lack, killer instinct and the ruthless will-to-win matched with the ability and skill that undoubtedly is also coursing through Murray. Will Murray become the first male British winner of a grand-slam since Fred Perry? I sincerely hope so, but an early defeat of a big rival and a mix of luck or injury woes may also have to fall in the Scots favour before his dream becomes a reality. Watching The Serb and The Spaniard slugging it out for nearly 6 hours, and still producing world class tennis at the end, was a joy to behold, and Djokovic’s mental strength carrying him over the line cannot be disputed as a fair result and the crowning of a worthy winner.

Also this week, should you be just awaking from a coma, John Terry was stripped of the England captaincy for a second time. Charged with the use of racist language in December, the Chelsea skipper will face trial after the European Championships in the summer, and it was the announcement of Terry’s day in court that prompted the FA to act. Many parties, including Terry himself and pundit Gary Neville, have questioned the FA making the call now and not when the charges were announced, with Neville going on to criticise the FA taking the decision away from manager Fabio Capello. The reason this decision was taken this week however, is a simple one, Terry has not been stripped of the captaincy as a punishment, but in light of the fact the case will still be hanging over him, and the squad he was set to lead, during the Euro’s.

Whether the decision to sack Terry as England captain for a second time is the right one, I cannot say, but I do understand the timing, unlike many who have commented on the subject. In this country our justice system is set up around the premise that all accused are innocent until proven guilty, but due to the ridiculous decision to have Terry stand trial after the European Championships, his position as captain was set to come under all sorts of scrutiny, and the FA couldn’t be seen to sit and watch the media circus increase.

This afternoon, John Terry and the drama surrounding him, took a back seat as his Chelsea team took on champions Manchester United without him in the side. United had the better of the first half, but lacked the finish to beat Petr Cech in the Chelsea goal, and through a moment of magic by Daniel Sturridge and a cruel deflection off of Jonny Evans, Chelsea led at the break. Two early second half goals later, Chelsea were 3-0 up, and United were left scratching their heads, and facing yet another Premier League defeat at Stamford Bridge, a ground they have often struggled at. Faced with embarrassing, and arguably unjust defeat, the team from Old Trafford came out swinging. With two penalties from Wayne Rooney and a header from Mexican Javier Hernandez, followed by a cracking save by much-maligned goalkeeper David De Gea, the champions had shown their fighting spirit and taken the most unlikely of points away with them.

The biggest talking points from the game are unquestionably the 4 realistic penalty shouts Howard Webb faced from the United forwards. Very early on, Ashley Young went down rather dramatically in the area, and my initial reaction was that he’d gone down under very little challenge. At half time, the incident was reviewed by the guys in the Sky Sports studio and Bosingwa, Chelsea’s make-shift left back, had a handful of Young’s shirt, and regardless of what you make of Young’s fall to the ground, the Portuguese international can count himself very lucky not to have been penalised. Later in the first half, with the score still locked at 0-0, Danny Welbeck burst through on goal for United, and he was halted by a stuttering challenge by debutant Gary Cahill. This time my initial reaction at full speed was penalty and red card, and regardless of pundits and commentators suggesting that the ball may have been played, or the offence may have taken place outside the area, I stand by that belief. Watching it back Cahill certainly doesn’t win the ball, and Welbeck is still on his feet after the initial contact. Cahill’s momentum and follow through takes him into the area where the United striker was still pursuing the ball, and this brings him down. My personal belief is that Cahill in effect committed two fouls, but only the second one resulted in Welbeck being felled, which would suggest a penalty should have been given. Whether or not you think that is rubbish, and a pro-United bias is unimportant though, as it was at the very least a free-kick, and Cahill’s participation in the rest of the game would have been in doubt, had Howard Webb come to the right decision.

After half time, Howard Webb did award Manchester United two penalties. The first of these, given for a foul on Patrice Evra by Sturridge, didn’t appear to me, on first glance, to be worthy of a spot-kick, but looking at the replay, Webb was 100% right to give it, as Evra protected the ball and Sturridge bundled him over. A few minutes later, Welbeck went down under the clumsy challenge of Branislav Ivanovic and won penalty number two. Seeing this one live I wasn’t sure what to think, and having watched the replay, it appears to be a very soft award in which the forward is looking for the contact. Rooney duly dispatched both penalties and of course Twitter’s reaction was to berate Howard Webb and dig-up every joke regarding him playing for, or transferring to, United to have ever existed… Yawn, Yawn, Yawn.

The reality of today’s match is not one that proves Webb to be biased, but there is every suggestion that he went in at half time and was either informed of his first half errors, or viewed the footage himself. In the second half, in giving United’s second penalty, Webb may have been subconsciously making up for the lack of a first half spot-kick, and I’ll say again, it’s not for me to say whether that is wrong or right. Chelsea fans will certainly say two wrongs don’t make a right, but the justifiable repost from United fans will be that had he given either of the penalties at 0-0, the game could have been very different.

For an interesting list of statistics that dispel the myth that United get the most penalties, have a look at http://www.myfootballfacts.com/Premier_League_Penalty_Statistics.html and interpret them however you like.

So much for the end of my moaning...

Last year I made the vow to end my rant ‘n’ rave style of writing that developed through the recording of the stressful process that was my Media Studies A Level. It is probably not a coincidence that as I attempted to make this change, my blogging became a lot less frequent. However, sometimes exceptions must be made, and I can honestly say that this seems like a suitable moment for an exception to occur. I’ve had some stressful and unpleasant evenings during my (nearly) twenty years on this planet, but last night took the biscuit, the cake and a fridge full of Muller Corners’!

Having finished my day, and therefore week, at university in Portsmouth, I was all set to go home for the weekend to free meals, unlimited central heating and a 50” TV to watch Manchester United’s crunch game away at Chelsea. I arrived at Fratton Station at 5.15 pm to catch the twenty-four minutes past train to London Waterloo to be greeted by two police officers doing very little and a bald man in a high-visibility jacket (which can never be a good sign). He then informed me that the station was being evacuated because of a ‘Massive Gas Leak’ and that I’d have to go to Southsea Station to get a train. Being only a twenty minute walk away, this on the face of it would seem to be an acceptable solution, but I was unconvinced because any train from Southsea would have to pass through Fratton to get to London.

A twenty minute walk in sub-zero temperatures later and I was proven right as I arrived at Southsea station to find a lot of electronic boards saying delayed and a crowd of confused civilians. With no visible staff presence in the foyer of the station I had little choice but to buy my ticket and wait for a train. £23.45 later I was on the platform and the bad omens continued as the train I wanted to get at Fratton at twenty-four minutes past was still at Southsea at 5.40. I finally found a member of staff that confirmed this was the train I wanted when it ‘eventually gets going’, so I boarded to avoid the cold.

Two chapters of Gary Neville’s autobiography, four tannoy messages without useful information and another thirty minutes later and the growing population of cold rail-travellers and I were informed that the issue could take ‘up to two hours to resolve’. Less than ten minutes after that announcement however, we were told the train would be going to Fratton. What?

Well whatever the justification of this, the train did duly move the one stop to Fratton Station, that had earlier been evacuated, and at this stage I was stuck at a different station. Having waited for more than five minutes for some kind of direction as to what I might do next, ‘Mr Tannoy’ informed the last few disgruntled travellers and I, that the train would now be going back to Southsea. Right…

However, if we wanted to travel on to Farnham (the next stop) and beyond to London Waterloo, we could catch a rail-replacement bus-service from outside the station. So we all gathered our belongings and trudged out to the front of the station, past the bald, high-visibility man who had evacuated the station over an hour previous and stood in the earlier mentioned sub-zero temperatures. Fifteen minutes after this, the high-visibility baldy gathered the fifty-plus commuters and told us he would attempt to organise taxis to Farnham for those with valid rail-tickets. At this stage though I was feeling like an extra from Frozen Planet and had very little faith in South-West Trains and their highly-visible and bald spokesman so decided to safely assume that he probably wasn’t able to arrange p*ss-up in a brewery, let alone a chain of taxis. Eventually, after my dad drove the ninety-odd miles to collect me, and the same distance home, I arrived in Essex just before half-past ten, and completely forgot to make this week’s changes, including making Robin Van Persie my captain, to my fantasy football team.

So to recap and conclude, I was refused entry to a station and badly advised by a brightly-lit and impressively bald man, had a sizeable delay and was again badly advised by a man on the end of a microphone, was then moved into an area that had previously been evacuated, before being badly advised again by another man with a microphone and the same bald guy from an hour previous. This has resulted in a wasted evening, a heavy cold, and an horrible fantasy league defeat. I’m not a happy bunny.