“I had to put the Kleenex to one side as Jose talked of his pain at living in a £1000 a night hotel.”
BBC Sport’s Alan Green with quote of the week there.
It’s been a tough old week for Man United manager Jose Mourinho, who told reporters his life ‘is a bit of a disaster’ at the moment, as he slums it in Manchester’s Lawry hotel. ‘There are nice houses in Manchester!’ ex-United player Phil Neville helpfully pointed out on Wednesday. ‘He could rent mine if he likes!’
Idea for a TV show – ‘Jose Under the Hammer’: Jose Mourinho tours suburban Cheshire looking for his dream abode. “Clearly, you’ve made a mistake with the valuation. To be an estate agent at this level, you have to able to value a house correctly. How many houses do you own? You own zero houses. I own a lot of them.”
It’s bound to take off. By the way, if you are in the Manchester area and you know of a nice pad up for rent; three bedrooms, two parking spaces, a reasonably secluded entrance, please drop a note to Old Trafford, Manchester.
Another poor chap tugging at the heart strings this week was Michael Gove. The Brexiteer, who famously abandoned long-term ally Boris Johnson to launch his own leadership campaign in the wake of David Cameron’s resignation in June, told the BBC that he hasn’t spoken to either man since. Well there’s a surprise.
“I’d happily go down the pub with almost anyone, at almost any time,” Gove went on to say. Or was it a plea?
Keep an eye on your mobile, Michael. But I doubt they’ll call.
Gove’s interview was part of a wider piece on tensions in the workplace. I thought it was brilliant, connecting perhaps one of the biggest stories in politics this year with some chap who’d been grabbed by the throat by a hot-headed work colleague in a warehouse. Goees to show, we all have a breaking point.
Me? I once sent an irate email to a colleague in Sydney, who I felt had done something wrong. I sent the mail just before leaving for the night, and when I returned in the morning I was immediately marched into my managers office and given a good telling-off. Rightly so, too. The petulance of youth.
It taught me an all-important life lesson – never send an angry email. Sit on it for 30 minutes, re-read, and edit if necessary. Once it’s gone, there’s no turning back.
I was in the bad books then, and I was on my son’s black list this week too. I’d bought a new player for our Ultimate Team on FIFA without getting his prior agreement. There I was, walking through town, when he FaceTimed me with some choice words. Isn’t it great how kids use modern technology against us?!
Still, he won’t be mad for long. It’ll be Christmas soon, and his little face will be a beacon of happiness once he’s knee deep in presents.
I know it’s Christmas soon, not because I’ve counted down the days on the calendar, but because Michael Buble’s exquisitely chiselled face has suddenly appeared everywhere. I presume he’ll be doing an ‘audience with’ programme on ITV soon. And there’ll be an obligatory album, of course. He’s getting as predictable as a death in the soaps on Christmas Day.
But spare a thought for poor Jose – all alone in the Lawry with just his mince pies and his millions for company. Maybe Michael Gove will join him for a mulled wine or two.