Sven's a Conman, and a Damn Good One at that
Well how else can you explain it?
Blessed with one of the best international football squads that any country (yes, not just england) has produced in decades Sven contrived to produce a quality of football that Wimbledon FC would have been ashamed of.
And this from a man who won the Scudetto with Lazio. Now ok, he did spend an inordinate amount of money in the course of that pursuit, but the england football squad contains players of such value even chelsea would struggle to finance its purchase. So how did a man who saw off the challenges of Mila, Juventus, Roma, Inter, Fiorentina et al manage to make such a stupendous cock up of the england football team?
The answer? Its obvious isnt it? It wasn't really Sven. The Sven we had in charge of england was an Italian con artist and kidnapper - one of the world's greatest. Bored of the anonymous monotony of stealing paintings and ancient artifacts Giuseppe pined for something more glamourous, and less demanding. And then, after hearing that Sven was in line for the England job, he hatched on a plan.
£4 million-a-year for 6 years is a lot of money. £24 million to be precise. You need a good few Hockney's to clock up that sort of mileage. And the beauty of it is that you only need to work for about 6 weeks of the year. So that's almost $1 million-a-day. Intersting.
It didnt take long for Giuseppe to enlist the help of the stunning Nancy Del Olio. He would need bait, and he knew Sven had a reputation for being ruled by his cock. Before long she had lured the Lazio manager back to her Roman villa, whereupon Giuseppe garoted him with a pair of Nancy's lacy knickers, and buried him under the pool.
Don't tell me you didn't realise Nancy was in on it? Even money can't get you a bird like Nancy if you look like Sven. Imagine going home to that? Luckily for Nancy she didnt have to. Not for her that choirboy's body. No - the 'Sven' she knew would bumble meekly in through the front dorr, before, out of sight of the cameras, shedding his mask, Mission Impossible style, to reveal the olive skin and wild untamed locks of Giuseppe. Like a wild bull he would take her every evening, right there on the mable floor of the greeting hall, before heading off to satisfy his Swedish and English-Indian mistresses, one by one, whilst attending to the dishes. What a man.
The genius of this plan was that due to the imcompetence of past England managers Giuseppe knew all he had to do was to pick the players the media liked, plus one or two rubbish ones for good measure, and tell them to "express themselves". Then he could just sit back, watch the train wreck, and smile as the press bemoaned the "same old" failing england. No one had the slightest idea what was going on. Except me.
Blessed with one of the best international football squads that any country (yes, not just england) has produced in decades Sven contrived to produce a quality of football that Wimbledon FC would have been ashamed of.
And this from a man who won the Scudetto with Lazio. Now ok, he did spend an inordinate amount of money in the course of that pursuit, but the england football squad contains players of such value even chelsea would struggle to finance its purchase. So how did a man who saw off the challenges of Mila, Juventus, Roma, Inter, Fiorentina et al manage to make such a stupendous cock up of the england football team?
The answer? Its obvious isnt it? It wasn't really Sven. The Sven we had in charge of england was an Italian con artist and kidnapper - one of the world's greatest. Bored of the anonymous monotony of stealing paintings and ancient artifacts Giuseppe pined for something more glamourous, and less demanding. And then, after hearing that Sven was in line for the England job, he hatched on a plan.
£4 million-a-year for 6 years is a lot of money. £24 million to be precise. You need a good few Hockney's to clock up that sort of mileage. And the beauty of it is that you only need to work for about 6 weeks of the year. So that's almost $1 million-a-day. Intersting.
It didnt take long for Giuseppe to enlist the help of the stunning Nancy Del Olio. He would need bait, and he knew Sven had a reputation for being ruled by his cock. Before long she had lured the Lazio manager back to her Roman villa, whereupon Giuseppe garoted him with a pair of Nancy's lacy knickers, and buried him under the pool.
Don't tell me you didn't realise Nancy was in on it? Even money can't get you a bird like Nancy if you look like Sven. Imagine going home to that? Luckily for Nancy she didnt have to. Not for her that choirboy's body. No - the 'Sven' she knew would bumble meekly in through the front dorr, before, out of sight of the cameras, shedding his mask, Mission Impossible style, to reveal the olive skin and wild untamed locks of Giuseppe. Like a wild bull he would take her every evening, right there on the mable floor of the greeting hall, before heading off to satisfy his Swedish and English-Indian mistresses, one by one, whilst attending to the dishes. What a man.
The genius of this plan was that due to the imcompetence of past England managers Giuseppe knew all he had to do was to pick the players the media liked, plus one or two rubbish ones for good measure, and tell them to "express themselves". Then he could just sit back, watch the train wreck, and smile as the press bemoaned the "same old" failing england. No one had the slightest idea what was going on. Except me.
posted by Mal | 8:32 AM
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