Its back!
And this time it's personal...
The millionaires of this game are digging shallow into their bottomless pits and coughing up landmines. Yet why aren't we all surprised?
If you are surprised, then you have just time travelled from the 1930's. In which, case drop your pipes and flatcaps and plug into the nearest cash machine.
Records are being broken like there is no tomorrow.
Players nowadays are checking their pulses and discovering that they probably have days to live.
"Hello Mr. Terry, its Hughsey. Just got the go ahead from the Sheiks upstairs. Quarter-mil weekly so
und OK? I know its not much..."
und OK? I know its not much..."John Terry was later found dead in his jacuzzi...
He wishes...
Messrs Platini and Blatter are nowhere to be seen. And yet, a moan and sob is heard here and there.
*phone rings in Platini's office*
"Oi! Budget cap! ASAP!"
*hangs up*
Formula 1 had the right idea.
In that world superpower, the largest fund and thus, the best car won, regardless of the driver.
Introduced caps and the likes, and suddenly the championship is opening up.
In this world superpower, the largest fund and thus, the best players won.
...*tumbleweed*
I think it's safe to assume some parallels can be drawn.
Fergie may kick and scream.
The Sheiks of City may bawl their eyes out.
Gillette... the best a man won't get.
Standing back from the cacophony of foreign languages and wage bills being posted, I can safely say budgets caps are for the greater good of the game. And if we get hit by toys catapulting from certain prams, then so be it.
'Tis but a scratch.
I leave you with a note of similar tone to that of Terry Wogans final words of his Eurovision career. Like some pessimistic old man with nothing left to live for...
The game has lost all innocence and suddenly its a bigger deal than people had originally thought...
