According to clinically unstable Leeds United owner Massimo Cellino, his new “Head Coach” is angry and eager for revenge. The new mug on the block cannot yet be named, presumably because Cellino has not yet observed the courtesies involved in sacking Neil Redfearn, the present incumbent. But news of his identity will be eagerly awaited by those who are scratching their heads and wondering who could possibly be so daft as to wish to hop onto Massimo’s Mad Mental Merry-go-Round.
Whoever it is, the new guy had better get his feet under the table quick smart. He’s unlikely to have the benefit of much settling-in time, never mind a honeymoon period. The pattern at Elland Road is now firmly set: appoint, praise, tepidly support, emasculate, hog-tie, isolate, insult, sack. The Cellino process generally proceeds swiftly enough to make the tenures of previous Leeds bosses Brian Clough and Jock Stein, at 44 days each, seem like models of long service.
So, whom can we expect – once all the blood and feathers have been cleared away following the summary chopping of the dignified and patient Redders? Names have been mentioned – Gus Poyet, late of Sunderland and thought to be the brains behind the initial Dennis Wise minus 15 miracle. Or the soon to be ex-Brentford man, Mark Warburton, who has enjoyed a great season with the Griffin Park outfit, including 6 points generously donated by the Whites. It’s hard to see how either would fit into the modus operandi favoured by Il Duce Cellino. And where will Adam Pearson, who spent much of Cellino’s recent notorious and bizarre presser dolefully facepalming, slot into this process of continual change? Will Redders be able to head back to Thorp Arch, at least until Cellino has it ploughed under for corn?
Some of these vexed questions may be answered over the next few days and weeks. But you may be sure that others will arise – Cellino is due up before the beaks again shortly, after all. And whatever might happen at Elland Road over the summer and leading into yet another comic cuts season, you can put good hard cash on the likelihood that our new man – whoever he might be – will not last far beyond Guy Fawkes Night. By Christmas, we will probably be composing the epitaphs for his successor.
However angry and vengeful Massimo’s new man might be right now, he can expect to be at least half as miffed again once unceremoniously dumped after a ridiculously short time, by football’s most loco boss. Perhaps he should be thinking about that right now.
For we mere fans, all there is to think about is the narrow pool of possibilities we can now rely on for what was once one of the most sought-after hot-seats in the game. Everyone knows what the score is now around LS11. Who would be just plain daft or crazy enough to take on such an un-doable job? If Screaming Lord Sutch was still above ground, I might nominate him – in the current situation, he’d be like a fresh breeze of sanity in the schizoid miasma which currently hangs over Elland Road.
In his absence, though – well, let’s face it, we’re probably going to be stuck with MC himself. Nurse!! My pills, please – quickly!