When we look back on the mostly wet and dreary summer of 2015, those of us with an interest in football are unlikely to have much to remember at all. After the madness of May / June where the FIFA corruption scandal and the ‘John Delaney Media Extravaganza’ had us frothing at the mouth with excitement, the dullness of July has brought us crashing back to earth. A summer that promised so much in terms of BREAKING NEWS has so far delivered very little. Yes there was the hilarity of Fabian Delph’s trolling of Aston Villa supporters, but unless you’re getting excited about The Ashes or The Open Championship, the lack of action on the pitch and in the Sky Sports News room has many of us counting the days until 8th August when football returns and life feels normal again. For now though, instead of ‘tacticz’n’bantz’ from Neville & Carragher on a Monday night, we have to entertain ourselves with murky ambience and self-hatred from Colin Farrell & Co. in True Detective on Sky Atlantic. With grizzly murder now occupying some of the headspace normally allocated to the beautiful game, the mind can wander…..so much so in fact that I began to wonder how certain football managers might survive if they were thrust into the dark underbelly of Vinci, California. After all, by nature these alpha males strive to conquer all that stands before them, and would probably thrive in the act of ‘disposing’ of a rival. Admittedly, it’s easier to imagine some managers more than others……
To me, Carlo doesn’t look like the type who would get his hands dirty. His nonchalance wouldn’t allow it. He’d be perfectly comfortable pulling the strings and watching one of his minions (for the sake of presenting a visual – picture Ray Wilkins…) carry out the deed with some mafia-style piano wire. Whatever physical struggle ensues between Ray and the unfortunate victim, you can be sure that Carlo’s raised eyebrow would be the closest thing to an expression on his face throughout…
It’s easy to imagine Jose Mourinho taking an impossible amount of pleasure from the act of murdering a rival. He’d enjoy being close to the scene so he can savour every last moment of it. His football persona is a mix of charm and venom, and this would be no different – claiming his victim by wining and dining them after secretly poisoning their meal. The glory of his triumph would be written all over his face in the form of a self-satisfied grin as he swirls a glass of Portuguese red under his nose…
Big Nige has a lot of impressive attributes that would come in handy if he felt compelled to stack some bodies in order to get ahead in life. He’s big, he’s strong, he has the flexibility of an ostrich, and he seems to have contempt for most other human beings. Although he’d have no difficulty in committing the act, deep down he probably wouldn’t take much satisfaction from it. But do it he would – probably with his bare hands. The post-game ritual of hiding the body underneath his garden patio (incidentally, which he expertly laid himself) would bring him to his happy place, if only for a few short moments….
‘Arry likes to make the most for himself out of any situation. So if he has to get rid of someone, why not make a few quid in the process. By torching one of his own buildings and reporting it as arson there might be a decent pay-off from the insurance claim, but if you add an un-wanted body into the mix then you’re just killing two birds with one stone. (Editor’s note: any likeness between this and past storylines involving the character ‘Frank Butcher’ in Eastenders are purely coincidental).
If Alan became a top dog in the world of organised crime, the biggest threat to his safety would probably be his exploding head on account of all the success going to it. That same head would also provide the greatest weapon in his arsenal – the ‘butt. Hull City’s David Meyler was lucky to survive the violence of Pardew’s flying forehead in 2014, but it’s unlikely that others could be so fortunate. After establishing his empire and squeezing his millions from the decrepit wasteland of Vinci, California, Alan would most likely retire to Ibiza, where he seems to be happiest….
Poor old David Moyes…Despite reasonable success at re-building his career in Spain, for most of us it’s still impossible to see past the rubble of his train-wreck of a stint at Manchester United. If this was 2012 and the Moyes of Everton was throwing his weight around in Vinci, we would be talking about a much more formidable prospect. But unfortunately something similar to the ’Old Trafford era’ image above would be his likely expression after accidentally mowing down an innocent by-stander with his car as the intended target manages to get away….
There’s no need to imagine ‘The Oracle of Anfield’ killing anyone – he’s been killing other managers in real life with his tactical wizardry for the last few years (aside from some large periods of….well….the last few years). But if crushing the competition in Vinci became his calling in life, B-Rod could make his enemies cringe to death with some of his inspirational quotes…..for example: “I’ve always said that you can live without water for many days, but you can’t live for a second without hope.”
Martin O’Neill & Roy Keane
There’s nothing pretty or subtle about this one. Just a straight up beating. Two angry men with lots of aggression kicking the shit out of some poor sod. Much like their mannerisms on the touchline at the Aviva, Martin is the more animated of the two and leads the beating from the front. Roy prefers to sit in the background glaring from behind his beard with folded arms, occasionally getting up to deliver some swift yet severely damaging blows. Really the only question to consider in this case is how long before their blood-lust becomes so overpowering that they turn on each other…..