Ich bin ein Director
It's official. JFK has been confirmed as our new director of football on a three-year contract.
Some things really are enough to make you want to swear. A lot.
JFK managed to jump the gun slightly, going on TalkSport yesterday to talk about his role, the players in our squad and his own staggeringly large ego and Stalinist approach to historical revisionism.
If his failure to identify players names correctly wasn't just cringingly embarrassing, it might be OK. After all, the story about Big Lad hooking up with England Under 21s and telling Howard Wilkinson that SBR called him Carl Cort is a classic, and one told with warmth and affection by the player.
With JFK though, it's different. He already has form for helping to push an admittedly disgruntled player out of the club by getting his name wrong, and now he's at it again, managing to mangle the majority of the playing staff and fellow board member Llambiarse into the bargain.
Other horrendous examples of the man not knowing his arse from his elbow include the description of Big Lad as "a young kid ... getting better and better". Last time I checked he was in his thirties and entering the last year of his contract. Perhaps he meant Little Big Lad, who is younger and hopefully still improving, albeit from his Twitter account is already unimpressed with JFK's inability to get his name right.
According to the man himself, he has spent his whole life picking up the phone to Taggart and that his name will open a few doors for us in the transfer market. Firstly I suspect that most managers have had better things to do than talk to JFK every day for, well frankly, ever. Secondly, I can't for one second see how a man whose managerial pinnacle was with Wimbledon fifteen years ago is a bigger draw that a man who has taken a side to an FA Cup final and last season reached the quarter-finals of the Europa League.
Perhaps his comment "I can open the door to any football manager in the world" was just another example of him getting his words muddled and he meant to say "I can open the door for...", which makes more sense.
It should also be pointed out that any idiot can see that we need a striker adding this summer. Even I managed that, and I haven't played 400 games for Spurs.
As TBW has suggested, perhaps this is an example of Jabba reasserting his authority over the Silver Fox while also removing an excuse for failure next season.
What is clear is that if JFK is to sit above Graham Carr and the manager, then it's to be hoped that they can relate, or that Jabba and Llambiarse at least recognise that of those three the most important to our long-term future is Carr.
If JFK can keep his head down and be kept away from the press he loves so much, then we might be able to ignore him. Given that his every utterance is a PR disaster in the making, we must also hope that Wonga also use every ounce of their corporate muscle to get the club to keep a muzzle on the man.
And there was me hoping for a quiet summer.
Some things really are enough to make you want to swear. A lot.
JFK managed to jump the gun slightly, going on TalkSport yesterday to talk about his role, the players in our squad and his own staggeringly large ego and Stalinist approach to historical revisionism.
If his failure to identify players names correctly wasn't just cringingly embarrassing, it might be OK. After all, the story about Big Lad hooking up with England Under 21s and telling Howard Wilkinson that SBR called him Carl Cort is a classic, and one told with warmth and affection by the player.
With JFK though, it's different. He already has form for helping to push an admittedly disgruntled player out of the club by getting his name wrong, and now he's at it again, managing to mangle the majority of the playing staff and fellow board member Llambiarse into the bargain.
Other horrendous examples of the man not knowing his arse from his elbow include the description of Big Lad as "a young kid ... getting better and better". Last time I checked he was in his thirties and entering the last year of his contract. Perhaps he meant Little Big Lad, who is younger and hopefully still improving, albeit from his Twitter account is already unimpressed with JFK's inability to get his name right.
According to the man himself, he has spent his whole life picking up the phone to Taggart and that his name will open a few doors for us in the transfer market. Firstly I suspect that most managers have had better things to do than talk to JFK every day for, well frankly, ever. Secondly, I can't for one second see how a man whose managerial pinnacle was with Wimbledon fifteen years ago is a bigger draw that a man who has taken a side to an FA Cup final and last season reached the quarter-finals of the Europa League.
Perhaps his comment "I can open the door to any football manager in the world" was just another example of him getting his words muddled and he meant to say "I can open the door for...", which makes more sense.
It should also be pointed out that any idiot can see that we need a striker adding this summer. Even I managed that, and I haven't played 400 games for Spurs.
As TBW has suggested, perhaps this is an example of Jabba reasserting his authority over the Silver Fox while also removing an excuse for failure next season.
What is clear is that if JFK is to sit above Graham Carr and the manager, then it's to be hoped that they can relate, or that Jabba and Llambiarse at least recognise that of those three the most important to our long-term future is Carr.
If JFK can keep his head down and be kept away from the press he loves so much, then we might be able to ignore him. Given that his every utterance is a PR disaster in the making, we must also hope that Wonga also use every ounce of their corporate muscle to get the club to keep a muzzle on the man.
And there was me hoping for a quiet summer.
Labels: alan pardew, derek llambias, director of football, graham carr, joe kinnear, mike ashley, sammy ameobi
posted by Paul at 2:02 pm
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