Many of you, like Jay from the inbetweeners, will be taking screen shots of your various football manager achievements and racing round to the post box to apply for the post of national manager. Whether it be taking Woking from non-league obscurity like our aforementioned football friend or actually getting a productive goal scoring partnership with Fernando Torres and Andy Carroll – each and every one of us has a football manager claim to fame. As a friend to you all, I beg you NOT to waste your parents 47p stamps sending in your applications, whilst I’m sure you’d do a sterling job replacing the 65 year old Italian, there is only one man to take over the reins of the national team.
Ladies and gentleman, please welcome back – Mike Bassett: England Manager. Last seen walking off into the Merseyside sunshine after saving his home town club Wirral County from relegation into the football conference at the end of the 2005-06 season, the former Colchester boss deserves a second shot at the helm of the national team. Many say Bassett, who I should technically hate for being partly responsible for the crash of the Mansfield team coach and indeed there untimely relegation, shouldn’t be given a second shot due to his failure to deliver the goods last time. I disagree, never in my time as a football fan have I seen a manager with such passion for the beautiful game, such desire for success and such love for his players. Not many managers would have the bottle to grab hold of the fourth officials board at a Wembley cup final (if only Duncan Russell had and added another half hour...), not many would have endured a trip the wrong way down a north-anglian duel carriageway to celebrate wining the Mr. clutch cup. Add to the list buying a clapped out motor to sign an assistant manager only to get punched in the nose, calling up two of the lower leagues most famous sons or telling a playboy mansion girl to ‘f**k off’ – Bassett, my friends, is a hero.
A team of no hopers, a striker with no confidence, a physcotic captain whose only motional line is ‘Lets f*****g kill ‘em’ not to mention a talented midfielder whose a fetish for lady-boys. Somehow Bassett battled past the haters and looked past the Wembley ghosts which haunted him prior to the tournament. Spurred on by an eventually clothed Keith Allen and atomic (one kitten short of a full litter) kitten, the charismatic former Norwich City manager trained his team with no footballs, despite the efforts of his loveable assistant Dave Dodds, and eventually rallied his troops for a dramatic revenge fuelled victory over the old enemy, Argentina. Kevin ‘Tonka’ Tonkinson, what a goal, what a celebration – had ball, against Argentina? No chance.
Returning home to a hero’s welcome, Bassett in the arms of beloved wife Karine, proclaimed ‘Four More Years’ to the thousands of England fans, all of whom re-gained respect for the England head honcho following his emotional speech ‘If’.
We don’t really know what happened in the time between Bassett loosing the national job and his arrival in league two; rumours suggest another Tonka bender along with the back four and a double relegation for Newcastle United. It doesn’t really matter though, if there’s one man to solved the age old England debates, such as John Terry’s bed hopping and the Lampard-Gerrard debate, it is Mike Bassett.
Many have called, perhaps half heartedly, for the return of Michael Owen – why have the 89 timed capped front man when Rufus Smalls is waiting in the wings, ready to miss penalties and regain his place on ‘A question of sport’. Who need’s lion hearted midfielder Scott Parker when you’ve got the all time great, Mr. handball himself, Kevin ‘Tonka’ Tonkinson – actually the two as a pair would be awesome, so long as Bassett refrains from doing his llama dance. The ever bugging left wing problem? Forget that, Alan Massey is awaiting the call ‘Lead them out skip’ one final time, two birds with one stone there actually.
Nobody wants the England job, Phil Cope couldn’t (cope), Fabio Capello was leaving anyway – Stuart Pearce is busy with the Olympics, Harry Redknapp’s focussed on spurs, Paul Cox is being held captive at Field Mill whilst Jay from the inbetweeners is too busy collecting points on his dominos membership card with new girlfriend Jane after ‘completing’ his job with Woking. Mike Bassett is surely the right man for the job – let’s face it, if not for his advice for Pele, we just want to see Gabby Logan present another awfully poor TV Coverage show with an unknown footballer from yester-year, dressed in a Primark suit.
I shall not rest until the loveable Bassett is at the helm once more....
... Hang fire with this, I’ve just researched this – Mike Bassett and most of the aforementioned names and events are fictional? Really goes to show you shouldn’t believe everything that trends on twitter! What is for certain though is that the old Italian ‘Don Fabio’ is no longer at the helm, two names in the frame – Harry Redknapp and Stuart Pearce, I’d be happy with either, probably a little more happier with the latter in fairness.
That my friends is for another day, all that matters now is that England are in search of a new manager and, most importantly, Mansfield Town we’re NOT relegated at the hands of a drugging against York City, nor did they finish bottom – oh happy days.
For now, I plead with the weather to give me my sanity back and get me back in the Field Mill press box on Saturday, one more article like this and I fear the padded cell with be again calling my name. Thanks for reading, I hope I made you laugh.
‘Three lions on the shirt......’
‘It’s on my head SON not off my head SON... E-N-G-L-A-N-D!’