In his exclusive Lemon Press column revealing the key reasons behind the sacking of David Moyes, Robbo Sausage says some things which are made to sound dramatic and important due to the addition of some superlatives.
- Utter shambolations. Clearly, if you’re given a job to win games of football then you have to win games of football in order not to lose them. I think if Moyes had won more games of football then he probably wouldn’t have been sacked on account of not winning enough games of football.
- Where were the bants? I mean, if Sir Alex wasn’t merrily hurling boots at them (‘If you can dodge a boot you can dodge a centre half’ as he used to gaily remind his attacking midfielders!), he’d at least let us know he’d given his players a good half time hair wash when they re-emerged doused in his spittle. The best thing Moyes came out with all season was when he suggested they might still make the top four…. Classic!! That was about it though.
- Having spent £70 million on Fellaini and Mata, Moyes clearly spent far, far too much. I think the next manager will need to spend at least £200 million in the summer.
- Hanging over his whole tenure was that critical question: actually what colour is his hair? I mean, it was dramatically clear from day one there might be shades of ginger in there and it hasn’t got any better. The problem for United is that they have got their global brand to think about. Do they want to be associated with that? I’m not sure, but at some point in the appointment process, I think Sir Alex had to sit down with Moyes and have it out man to man – is it just auburn, or is there something I need to know about here? Clearly that enormously vital discussion failed to take place.
- General shambolations. United this season have been pedestrian, bad, slow, absolutely shocking, defensive…. inoffensive……. pedestrian when they need to have pace, dynamic, power…. speed, pattern of play, style of play, forepl…. speed. Those things needed to happen and, although they could have possibly happened, they completely didn’t happen.
Robbo Sausage was speaking to the Lemon Press’s Will Carne, who failed miserably to create some kind of coherent article from the punditry (quaint ravings) he was subjected to.