Cherished colleagues with an aversion seeking to feed their aversion to overpaid sports personalities should read on.
I can’t resist commenting on the vagaries of life as demonstrated by ‘Arry, the former dead-cert for England Manager. How the meeja rejoiced when he was found not guilty of tax evasion! How fondly they revealed his illiteracy and disinterest in his own finances! This was a Man of the People at last. But soft, what impediment at yonder window looms? It would cost the FA £10 million to prise him away from Spurs. Cheap at half the price, the pundits retorted.
Then the inevitable lull in interest as the FA deliberated on their options and Spurs went into a ten-match decline. Followed by rumours that Mrs. ‘Arry had let it be known that she (and therefore ‘Arry) had no intention of moving house from Portsmouth and ‘Arry, with ‘is dickie ticker, could not stand a daily commute to Burton-on-Trent. Who could? you may ask. (If you haven’t seen the place, don’t bother.)
The rest of the saga is marginally less riveting. Woy got the Big Job. Spurs didn’t get into the Champions’ League (all Chelsea’s fault) and fancied a new manager instead. So ‘Arry is down the Job Centre today, understandably confused by his yo-yo fortunes.
Will he be tempted by Arab billions to cast off for a couple of years? Better ask Mrs. ‘Arry, methinks.
Boadicea's Chariot 
A sad footnote: ‘Arry now says he expected the boot and would have like the Big Job. Was he ever in the frame, one asks? Watch this column for more astounding revelations.
Sandbanks is apparently a very pleasant place to retire to. Mrs ‘arry should think about that.
Sandbanks is full of footballers, Sheona, and generally people with more money than taste.
I didn’t know that, Araminta. Perhaps ‘arry doesn’t have the money for such an area. I thought all the footballers were in Cheshire.
I think they own a house there, or they did, but really the whole place is vastly overpriced and exceedingly vulgar, although the beaches are lovely.
Sandbanks used to be lovely and had an interesting mix of housing.But ara has it right, the footballers moved in knocked down the old interesting houses and built zero lotted palaces to bad taste in their place.
Shame.
Knew two people who fled at the sight of their new neighbours!
Janus, good evening.
I would, it goes without saying, never dream of pressing the button on any pedestrian crossing to give myself the remotest chance of crossing a road in order to worry in any way about who was manager of the England Football Team.
I personally hope that said team wins Euro12 but I do not care who manages them.
Except that I am glad for the sake of my Southron cousins that it is not Your Harry. He was and is a bubble waiting to burst and I still believe that he will end up behind bars. Too much muddy water in his career, in my opinion. Eventually, that mud will stick.
He is probably, in my opinion again, marginally more honest than Terry Venables.
Sheona, worry not. ‘Arry is well-breeched by now as my Grandpa used to say. As for the Beverley Hills of the North, still very desirable if you like that kind of thing.
JM, that probably means ‘Arry will soon grace the telly screens as an expert, based in the Sandbanks enclave.
Janus, when ‘Arry boy was in his youth and playing for West Ham up and down the wing, he was likened in one sports newspaper to a “perambulating clothes horse.” (I guess that meant all elbows and outward pointing knees,)
Certainly he is today’s version of the artful dodger.What goes round comes around.