And in one sentence we have the entire focal point of essentially everything that is wrong with that cesspit of a club. They have created a mythical-type figure out of an average football manager who happened to be in the right place at the right time. A man who had previously spent more than any other manager in world football but had consistently failed. A man who in all likelihood would have been summarily dismissed from his job had it not been for a last second goal from Mark Robbins. A man who up until then had the clubs own fans booing him, calling for his dismissal because of the poor football. The club hierarchy about to pull the switch on his disastrous tenure until a fortunate strike from a player quite literally saved his job.
Everybody knows what happened next: SlySports, money, then more money, then some more money, lots of help from willing footballing officials to 'get them over the line,' then some more money, and the apparent approval of every tabloid and sporting media this side of the Kremlin smiling benevolently on them, then add some more money, and then some more, buy the very best players available, even if they don't want to leave their current job. A young player who a year ago was living in a council house, probably in Merseyside somewhere, almost certainly Toxteth. Playing non-league football. Get them to sign for you. If they are not keen, bribe them: triple their wages, buy them a sprawling mansion in the Cheshire countryside with four indoor heated swimming pools, add a couple of luxurious sports cars in the tree-lined drive and stand over them with an arrogant sneer as they sign on the dotted line.
This, if anything, is the rag DNA.
www.bbc.co.uk