Roman – Give Me a Call

By , Posted on 8th March 2012 - Posted in: Football News, News

Was Carlton Palmer the worst player ever to win a series of caps for England? Yes, probably. A mainstay of the Graham Taylor ‘project’ of the 1990’s Palmer made an unlikely 18 appearances for his country. Yes, we can laugh now, but his continued presence in the heart of midfield drew horrified gasps of astonishment from fans the length and breadth of the land, for way too long.

And yet, many moons after his last involvement with the national team, when Terry Venables was attempting to construct an England team that at least tried to play football, Carlton felt the need to announce to the world that he had decided to retire from international football. Some things are simply best left unsaid aren’t they? It was a statement as ludicrously redundant as Margaret Thatcher turning up for a viewing of ‘The Iron Lady’ and letting it be known that she’s not going to bother contesting the next tory party leadership vacancy.

The superfluous nature of Carlton’s announcement came to mind earlier this week with the news that Swansea City’s Brendan Rodgers has ruled himself out of the Chelsea job. Hmm, really? Northern Irishman Rodgers is a great young manager and is doing a fantastic job with the Welsh side but I rather feel he’s getting ahead of himself if he thinks he’d even have a sniff of a chance of the Chelsea job.

I wrote recently of the imminent clutch of top managerial jobs that may become available in England (Chelsea being merely one of three of four possibilities) and it would indeed be nice to think an enterprising club chairman somewhere would take a chance on a bright young British manager instead of drawing from the same tired old well of grey haired Euro-mercenaries. The thing is, it’s not going to be at Chelsea is it? I mean, I doubt Roman Abramovich even knows where Swansea is.

Still, it’s good to see the thrusting managerial talent coming through is not discouraged and is capable of thinking that no goals are so out of reach that you can’t announce to the world that you’re not interested in them. And it’s contagious, so while I’m about it, I’d like to rule myself out of next year’s British Sports Journalism Awards, just in case anyone’s thinking of putting a few bob on me winning something. I’m not ruling myself out of the Chelsea gig though. Roman, if you want to give me a shout you know where to find me.

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