THE DELICATE MIND OF THE MODERN ‘EMPLOYEE’…*

THURSDAY, AUGUST 21st, 2008

After a Wednesday spent scoring two goals for your country, celebrated with a bit of badge-snogging for good measure, you take a flight home the following afternoon. It’s been a little tiring, you know, 90 minutes representing your country, but the pair of goals, subsequent adulation and the 5-star bed you finally fell asleep in certainly help with recovery. 

You prepare to catch your flight back to England, where your day-job is. A spot of 5-star breakfast perhaps, a ciggy and the paper maybe, perhaps even a squirrel or two to feed from your hotel room balcony if you’re lucky. You might check your bank balance, but more likely you won’t, because doubtless there are people in place to do that for you. And anyway, how many zeros to the left of the decimal point do you need before you know the quids really are in? Even you cannot have allowed it to go from 7 to 6 in the last 2 seasons. So it’s OK, life is still tolerable in a financial sense.

Your mood is perhaps a little low. Funny really. Two goals, a national hero, a comfortable existence, yet somehow, your spirit just feels a little deflated. You have people working for you who can help with that sort of stuff, but they’re not being overly helpful either. Because even though you have the sort of job in England that most people in your profession would die for, even though this job pays you enough to keep seven zeros-plus to the left of the decimal point, and even though this job comes with a staff and team which are largely designed to help you and your very special skills shine, there’s whispers of another job. Where there might be even more zeros to the left of the decimal, and perhaps more tangible rewards to be gained. And even though you signed a contract with your current employer, you sort of want to go to that other job now. 

A completely random image which has nothing to do with this column’s subject…

 

But it’s so terribly tough. How on earth can it happen? Your contract is binding and the people who have offered you a new job (via representatives of course) don’t actually want to pay the rate of compensation your skill set and current contract requires. How horrible! How beastly! How sad! You take another puff of your morning ciggy, comb back your hair and look deep into your own, soulful, moody deep blue eyes. You dig out a pair of Dolce & Gabanna sunglasses for fear that the sadness in your eyes might be seen by another British reporter, you sigh with a deep breath and you head for the airport.

En route, your representative calls you. He suggests that parties close to those who are offering the new job have suggested that perhaps your poor mind isn’t in the right place. ‘Take a sick-day’ is the advice, call in on Saturday with a health issue. Problem is, your energy levels were there for all to see yesterday, and your enthusiastic celebration was not that of a man with troubles on his mind. ‘No no, this is all about stress and the right-frame of mind’ you’re told, ‘it’s obvious that you cannot even contemplate attempting your work on Saturday with your mind where it currently is, so you must simply pull a sickie.’

A sickie, you think…what is this ’sickie’? A free day? Is it like bunking off from school?

‘Yes yes, something like that, but don’t worry because they can’t do anything about it, they’re scared and confused right now and aren’t sure how to handle this situation. And if you up the ante by doing this, it could push them to let you go to the new job where there will be more zeros to the left of the decimal point WITHOUT losing any of the zeros to the left of the decimal point you would be due from your current job! It’s a ‘health’ matter, right?’

Right, you think. It is. In fact, you feel frail and weak even thinking about it all right now…please, please God, you just want to do my job and go home and feed my squirrels! You just want it all to be easy and simple like it used to be. You just want no pressure and for everyone to appreciate my talents and let me take them where I want to take them. Why can’t everyone just be reasonable and let you do what you want to do when you want to do it?

So actually, sod this. You WILL take the advice of ‘them’ and you WILL pull a ’sickie’ and you WON’T show up for work on Saturday. You won’t lie and say you have a strain, you’ll just be honest and tell them that mentally-speaking, you couldn’t do your job properly at that time so it’s best for you not to show up at all.

And then hey, hopefully they will understand that unless they let you do what you want when you want to, that you might have these sorts of ‘issues’ often, and that you cannot guarantee you will ever be able to do your current job properly (at least not until you know the other job offer becomes legally suspended for 6 months, starting September 2nd). And you are very sorry if it seems selfish or rude or inconsiderate or even illegal given the fact you signed a contract, you cannot help that, it’s how you feel, and as a man with immense talents and skills surely everyone should be able to understand that when your ‘dream’ stage presents itself, you should be allowed to go. After all, you gave one and a half years of great service in the last two working years (yes, you know, August/September/October are always mentally delicate months for you and it’s such a shame those clash with the start of your day-job’s annual calendar) so it’s not like you haven’t shown extreme and enormous loyalty?!

Anyhow, you’ll clock in tomorrow morning if only to try and protect your zeros to the left of the decimal point, but as for the sickie? Well, you can only ‘pull a sickie’ on the day you don’t want to work, or that’s what you’ve been told…so tomorrow you’ll just be your usual, quiet self. And on Saturday, after an unusually pleasant and rare morning at home feeding the little furry friends, you’ll call the boss…

 

* This is a fictional account. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. However, for the record, Jumpers For Goalposts believes whoever this ‘employees’ boss is should stick firm, hold out, draft the replacement employees in and refuse to release the ‘delicate’ one to his desired ‘dream’ destination until May 2009. Of course, utopian actions like this are the stuff of fans and fantasists. The reality is that employees like this and the dirty, fetid-yet-smooth operators around them, are not new to such games. They don’t care about their public sponsors, and they don’t care about the impact their behavior has on vast communities. Their methodology has always lacked a moral compass, and to assume any different is almost endearingly naive. And so we are left with a vicious, dirty little war, played out in extreme passive-aggression, where only the biggest bastards win and where the hero depends on who your chosen bastard is. 

It’s really, really sad…

BENT AND CRIMINAL OWNERS…

Ronaldo aside, Tottenham Hotspur have dominated the summer transfer news. Between the actual signings and the ‘will-he won’t he’s’ of incomings and outgoings, it’s been drama as usual at the Lane, and amidst the flurry of media rubbish, many have missed what the coaching staff have managed to do this summer in preparing what looks to be a fine squad, albeit in need of two to three more bodies.

But the greatest success in pre-season is somewhat of a forgotten (and in some quarters much-maligned) man. Darren Bent joined Spurs last summer for 17 million quid, a figure some felt was grotesque as well as a figure which some say is inaccurate, the total being made up after the usual appearances vs success ratio. It was a tough first Spurs season for Bent. He spent much of it nursing an injury, and often came on as a sub whilst carrying the complaint. He was asked to replicate a style of football which clearly did not play to his strengths. And his confidence seemed to hit a couple of horrifically low-points during the season, when certain misses seemed to drain the blood from him on the spot. 

But Darren Bent never once complained. He never once agitated for a move. He never once spread disharmony through the ranks. He never once used the media as a soapbox for his frustration. He never allowed his relative bad luck to affect him (the man must’ve hit the woodwork about 6 times). He put his head down, sucked it up and simply tried harder. And harder. And harder. Often he appeared to be charging about without a clue as to where he was trying to go, and more often still he got dirty looks from whichever of his more illustrious (former in one case) strike partners he was with, whether it be Liverpool’s new squad rotation left-winger Robert Keane or the Incredible Sulk Dimitar Berbatov.

But Darren Bent never gave in. Never took the easy option. And never every besmirched the club.

A rare thing in modern football…the professional who doesn’t moan

Yet as the big kick-off approaches, we find Darren Bent as the starting striker alongside a.n.other. Why? Because the man has been banging them in for fun during the pre-season. 13 goals. Left foot, right foot, headers, tap-ins, all sorts of finishes and all sorts of confidence flooding back for him. In fact were he any other player, Spurs supporters would be lauding him loudly right now. But for some reason, there’s simply been quiet appreciation. No more, no less. The man has done everything right off the pitch since he first pulled on the white shirt, and now it appears he is set to do everything right on it. 

It’s about time footballers like Darren Bent were given a little more recognition, especially when juxtaposed against some of the more indolent narcissists we’ve had to suffer during this transfer window.

 

…AND HERE’S THE CRIMINAL OWNER

Regular readers will already know how I feel about Thaksin Shinawatra. No amount of free Thai food could’ve brainswashed me into believing he was a fit and decent owner. You know what they, once a despot, always a despot. And the little guy is about as despoty a despot as you can find. The recent news that Thaksin has officially become a fugitive for refusing to return and face a trial Thailand is unsurprising; it was always a case of ‘when’ not ‘if’. But the surprise etched on new manager Mark Hughes’ face as he watched the board nearly sell two players without his knowledge was really something to behold.

An interesting hiding place, but the Thai authorities will get him in the end…

I take Mark Hughes to be an intelligent man, thus if someone is going to try and claim that he didn’t believe he was walking into a potential tsunami when he agreed to take the manager’s job, I will claim that they are either a liar, friend or family member of Hughes. I mean, is Hughes simply in Manchester so as he can time his defection to Ferguson & co from a more convenient locale? What possible motivatio could he have had to take over City with their current state of ownership (especially having seen what happened to his predecessor -the clever bastard that is Sven!- at the end of the season)? And again, when Amnesty International are banging on about a specific person’s to treat people nicely, then the penny must drop. Right? RIGHT? It’s all so pathetic. The trouble, the posturing by Hughes, all of it, absolutely pathetic…let’s be clear. Hughes will be off by January 09 at the very latest, City will be in ENORMOUS trouble by the end of this season, and Thaksin will dump his plaything/attempted cover from criminal prosecution faster than a leper losing an arm during a hurricane once he realizes that he could end up in hot  water there too.

In fact, the only people Thaksin won’t have to worry about, are the Premier League and the FA. Neither will find any fault with his abilities and credentials as an owner (the FA have no direct say but, well, only the naive would suggest they wouldn’t have some influence over such a proceeding). And as for expecting Richard Scudamore and his pals at the Prem to have a pair of testicles between them, well, sorry to disappoint, but once again think ‘Eunuch’s convention’. Why? Because Man.City aren’t Luton Town or AFCBournmouth or Rotherham.

While we’re here, a quick final question. Will Portsmouth now face a 10 point deduction for irregularities with an agent (WIllie McKay and the transfer activity of Benjani)? Or even a 5 point one? Or even a 2 point one? A one point one and a fine?  After all, Portsmouth aren’t quite of the City stature or even West Ham’s come to think of it, so perhaps they could be the convenient scapegoat? Harry’s getting old, perhaps his fight is leaving him, could be worth a punt? Don’t even think of holding your breath…

Finally, lovely to see the North London banter is starting to pick up again from the actual players. First off the mark was new Spur David Bentley, who gleefully elaborated on just why it will be so exciting for him to play in the Lilywhite shirt at the Emirates Stadium near the end of October, and inviting supporters of his former employees to give him stick. Retorting with something of a weak, lily-livered swing back was Robin Van Persie, who commented that Twente Enschede, Arsenal’s opposition in their Champions League qualifier this week, were the ‘Spurs’ of Dutch football. Still, nice of him to comment at all as it does guarantee an enormous amount of abuse will be hurled his way during the same fixture. One wonders if he’ll remain fit long enough to ever enjoy an entire North London derby ever again. But ’tis marvelous stuff and a thoroughly entertaining way to sign off the last week before all the action starts in earnest…that is unless you count the superb Steve McClaren interview doing the youtube rounds at the moment, where Enschede manager Macca delivers a corkingly crap ‘Dutchman-speaking-English’ accent. What was he thinking? Ever!

SENDING RAFA A FRUIT BASKET OF THANKS…

For all Spurs supporters, it’s been an even more hectic and ridiculous transfer window thus far. We have traditionally been good for the biggest signings AND laughs of the summer, plus you’ve always been able to count on Spurs for the most absurd rumor of the season (Rivaldo and Ronaldinho anyone?)…but even by our own ridiculous (and often comedic) standards, thus far we have topped ourselves. The difference is that it appears the club’s current manager, Juande Ramos, is capable of wrangling genuine world class talent. Not only that, he has actually managed to do what his pedecessor threatened to do but never could make happen, that is to say, he has been clearing out the deadwood and the not-quite-good enough, as well as the ones he simply didn’t fancy (Teemu Tainio was an exception, it was only his fitness record which counted against him staying).

Much has been written and said about the Robbie Keane transfer, but at the end of the day, Spurs chairman Daniel Levy played it perfectly. Keane is not the sort of player you can force to stay once his mind is set on leaving. The sheer level and strength of his involvement in all elements of the club would’ve rendered him a very, very dangerous element had his mood turned sour. He had to go once he’d stated his heart was set on the move, and thus for Levy to make sure the 20 million quid was paid and not just a figure bandied about like some Moroccan bazaar is really quite fine business. Especially if the replacement mooted becomes a reality (the author will not state his name for fear of jinxing the deal).

Dimitar Berbatov is a slightly different story in so much as his mood has always been dark and he’s always been a bit of a loner, thus no-one at the club will know the difference if he’s told he has to stay and proceeds to sulk. PERSONALLY I would do exactly this until he snapped into gear, however it is very possible that Ramos does not want one negative influence at the club, however quiet and consistent it might have been.

The signing of David Bentley brings a true Tottenham supporter to the club, where his undoubted quality will help springboard the club, but it is the form of Gio Dos Santos and Luka Modric which has fans buzzing right now. Obviously friendlies against Norwich and Orient won’t tell you everything, but what they did show  (especially in the case of Dos Santos) was what fantastic touch and vision they have. Dos Santos is going to be an incredible player (in fact, if Mexico get the best our of him and his emerging Arsenal-playing nation side teammate Carlos Vela then they will be some force) with strength, skill, amazing shooting with either foot and exquisite touch. And Modric will be a wonderful mover of the ball in this new Spurs side, which will be dedicated to keeping possession, moving the ball quickly and playing with a pacey swagger. It starts with another new face in goalkeeper Huerelio Gomes, who throws or rolls the ball out and rarely if ever booms the ball as far up the pitch as possible. Gomes has also already displayed a sense of authority and skill which looks set to make him a fan favorite, though it has to be said he does appear to have potential to be the Brazilian Fabien Barthez, which means everything it implies (yes, expect the odd clanger but they will be amazing to witness).

One of the more surprising beneficiaries of all this, is Darren Bent, for whom such a style of play is tailor-made. With the ball reaching him quickly plus often being laid in front of him as opposed to demanding his back-to-goal touch, Bent has found goals easy thus far, and would it be such an insane bet to say that the man could well hit 20-plus goals this season if he does get more regular starts?

Which all brings me to Rafa. Rafa Rafa Rafa. He chased his man around like a sneaky cheating husband, salivating at the thought of the hook-up, using anyone to help facilitate the situation. It worked. In the end, he managed to get his target to abruptly force the end of their previous footballing marriage and shack up with him and his other conquests (this analogy seems to be taking on the air of bigamy…ah well…)

But as we all know, people nearly always recover from broken relationships, hey, some even manage to upgrade their situation in terms of looks, style and company.

And with the dust settling, most Spurs supporters would admit that a collective fruit basket and thank you card to Rafa for pushing it all through is the very least that should be done in light of the electric vents and exciting future bubbling at White Hart Lane. Because when it comes to better looks, better style and better company, there’s a whole lot of shaking goin’ on in N17…