Scolari is sacked after seven months in charge at Stamford Bridge . . . Boo-hoo Big Phil.
During his brief stint at the club, he will have earned around £4 million – if salary speculation is correct – a sum that the majority of people would fail to earn in their entire working life; so forgive me if I’m stoically unperturbed by his departure. In fact, in as non sadistic a way as possible, I’ve always liked the throwaway nature of top flight football managers – the way big clubs drag them in full of anticipation and hope, only to toss them aside like a soiled rag when they no longer live up to expectation.
It is somewhat satisfying to see that even some of those at the top of the salary league table, live with the same anxieties – albeit on a far grander scale – as the rest of the population and, as a result, I am a big fan of this bipolar method of rewarding success and punishing failure; I would, however, like to see it used in a far greater range of professions.
Spider-Man recognised that being a respected vigilante – stay with me, as this tenuous link will be worth it – wasn’t all glamour. He had a duty to safeguard the public and live up to their standards and if he failed to do so, he would lose their trust and be effectively stripped of his unique status; hence the quote: “with great power comes great responsibility”.
Phil Scolari, Alex Ferguson, Jose Mourinho, or any other person in a position of public trust for that matter, also have a unique status – a responsibility, not only to those above them, but to the many below them as well. A football manager has a duty to the players, the club and all the millions of fans across the world whose dreams and collective billions are cradled in his hands. As such, it is only natural that if you are trusted in such a position, earning your keep must be a risky business and a failure to do so, unacceptable.
Football managers are evidently well aware of the burden of trust that they must shoulder and generally quite philosophical about the transient nature of their employment. However, of late, a new group have been thrust unwillingly into this challenging arena and seem both ill-equipped and reluctant to deal with the situation.
Just a year or so ago, the world’s bankers did as they pleased – trading in whatever they fancied, running risks and amassing exorbitant fortunes along the way – so it is little wonder that many of them are now struggling to come to terms with an abrupt shift in that dynamic. Whether or not they like the way the economic pendulum has swung is of no importance though, as they have no one to blame but themselves. With RBS almost 70% government owned – bailed out with our collective money – they owe us, the public, a debt of gratitude and must, for the first time, face up to their actions and take responsibility for a recession that they are largely culpable. There will of course be those who don’t want to, preferring instead to bitch and whine about how they deserve their X hundred thousand pound bonuses and that’s fair enough, because they are more than welcome to fuck off to the job centre, where they will soon discover that £95,000 a year is not “a small salary”, as one banker put it.
The government, in the tumult of bolstering the economy, failed to staunch the flow of capital to the orchestra of our collective demise; but now they have the opportunity to right that wrong by taking strong and decisive action against the perpetrators, to not only appease the public, but to ensure that this level of profound greed by the few, can never again jeopardise the lives of the many.
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet,
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams