Well, that went well. The selection of the England football manager has been carried out with enough pomp, secrecy and puffs of smoke to make the election of a pope look as simple as buying a packet of fags. The workings of the almighty may be mysterious, but it’s kids’ stuff compared to what goes on between the ears of FA chairman David Bernstein. Quite why the straightforward and correct appointment of Roy Hodgson became so byzantine is hard to see. But we are where we are and a jolly good thing too.
Myself, I was never convinced Harry Redknapp was the bolt-on for the job assumed by the London-based sports press, in the chunterings of the radio phone-ins, and among England twitterati like Jack Wilshere, Wayne Rooney and Rio Ferdinand. Come to think of it, with support like that you could see Harry was doomed. There’s nothing the FA would want more than being told what to do by pampered superstars of, er, proven international achievement like Rio and Wayne.
The press and the public like Harry because he gives good quote, is charismatic, often surprising, and produces nice football teams.
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