Studs Up

It’s hardly a revelation, but every now and then I’ll take a step back and think about what the hell life was like pre-internet and certainly pre-Wikipedia. I’m young enough to have no concept of how adult life operated without the former, and just about old enough to be shocked by how annoying life would be without the latter.

The Salenko question was put to me by a friend on Twitter and, as is the norm when I don’t know something, I made a quick trip to Wikipedia and then proceeded to act like this little bit of trivia was stashed somewhere in my brain the entire time.

Fat Sam is in the news again and (insert some sort of mock-shock emoticon) he’s bigging himself up to no end. Among his claims are the fact that he is a master tactician, everyone thinks he is awesome, and that he has psyched out loads of other managers with mind games while he himself has never been “psyched out”. His words.

I can’t stand the man or his football. Yes, his methods get the results he wants. But so does scratching an itch on your arsehole with your bare hand – that doesn’t mean it’s the right way to do things.