Luzon my religion

So I was wrong. The same office that won't give a visa for people to attend the funeral of their granddaughter is perfectly happy to give one to Guy Luzon.

But maybe that's fair enough. There's clearly a shortage of qualified, experienced managers in the UK. Why, just the other day Katrien Meire interviewed 20 of them. None of them any good.

But after a thorough interview Guy Luzon convinced the sceptical panel. Based on the triumphant press conference, I'd imagine it went something like this:

Katrien: So, Guy, tell us what you know about the English championship.
Guy: Errm. Football. Manchester City? Errm, winning good, losing bad.
Katrien: I think that's all we need to know. Richard, darling, tell the others they can leave now. Watch out for that Italian bloke though, Paolo something. He looks a little temperamental. You have got a work permit, Guy, I assume?
Guy: Liverpool?
Katrien: Great. You start tomorrow. (Gives him a sheet of paper). Here's the team you'll be fielding on Saturday.

Of course, if Luzon turns out to be an inspired, brilliant choice, I'll be the first to eat my ever-so-tasty words. Maybe he can rescue broken, demoralised teams, in the same way that maybe I can play Ravel's notoriously difficult piano-piece Gaspard de la Nuit. I've never tried, so I don't know.

What really rankles is the cheapskate, dishonest way the appointment has been made. Roland Duchatelet has never enjoyed the whole-hearted confidence of the fans. From now on, it's hard to see how he ever will. And the worst thing of all is, he couldn't give a toss.