18 September 2010

Delusions of grandeur

Those those, the lemon bon bons, the whole jar please: Sam Alladyce in a sweet shop yesterday

We here in the Cave's mouth have a standing hatred of Sam Allardyce. We frown upon pie eating northerners as a rule (with the exception of cousin Johnny), we find anyone with Arsène Wenger as their bête noire to be both loathsome and xenophobic and we have no time at all for people with ideas above their station. Finally and specifically in Sam's case, we think he's an 'orrible cunt.

Apparently he fancies he'd win the league every season if he was manager of Chelsea or Manchester United and would have no problems managing Real Madrid. Even for Fat Sam this is hubris bordering on lunacy.

Apart from the fact that no manager anywhere ever has managed this feat, his first attempts at managing a "big club" ended after about six months when he was sacked as Newcastle manager having only won 8 games from 24. And I really can't see the likes of Cristiano Ronaldo being happy strolling about in midfield watching the ball sail above his head on it's way to Jason Roberts.

This is surely the most absurd speech since David Icke claimed he was Jesus. More so in fact as it is surely far more likely that David Icke is Jesus than Sam Allardyce ever being allowed near the big chair at a legitimately big club let alone him actually winning something once he got there. Even if Fat Sam was the son of God he'd still only finish mid-table. I think it's best to just dismiss this little sermon. Perhaps it was a sugar rush from all those medicinal sweets he eats to control his "diabetes".

Now if you'll excuse me, since I'm up early for no apparent reason I shall use the morning to put together a quite magnificent wager thus limiting my liability on tomorrow's WSOP attempt to practically nothing.

David Icke yesterday

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