>Come On England?

>It’s difficult not to loathe this guy. It’s everything about him. A caretaker given the full role, a buffoon-like barman who doesn’t know his drinks, a dad who crashes the car, who embarrasses you in front of your new girl, the guy who runs over his foot when he mows the lawn, walks into the glassdoor, tells jokes that make you want to walk out. That guy, all rolled into one. That f’ing guy.

Yet he is England manager, manager of the national team. Deemed qualified after the grand task of sitting on the bench next Sven while England floundered like a speared whale in Germany. I can’t stand this guy. Tactically rubbish, a charmless moron, this guy makes me want to turn off the TV. He is the face who leads the nation. Who is he? And why is he there in that jacket, sitting on that bench? Is this some Hollywood film made at Lancaster Gate of a simple man given the chance of a lifetime due to some hilarious mix-up produced by Sly Stallone? No, it’s more like Carry On.

We play Israel tomorrow and I honestly don’t what I want to occur. An England win and that smug grin will be back. A defeat and hopefully bye, bye Steve. But that won’t happen. McClaren won’t walk and the FA won’t fire him. It just makes you want to scream that England’s destiny and this moron’s are so intertwined.

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