I reckon it probably just as common for players to get the manager the pump, or at least be a factor, as what it is for Chairmen / club owners to sack em for their own reasons
Rumour has it that towards the end of Curbishley's tenure a gaggle of key players led by Jay Bothroyd, Rurik Gislason and Gonzalo Sorondo had Richard Murray's ear. Murray allegedly believed these three starlets to be the future of CAFC and therefore consulted with them regularly in regular secret rendez- vous behind the Co-Op in Charlton Village.
Thinking of succession and caring about the longevity of our club Curbishley had touted Mourinhio, Ranieri and then unknown Mauricio Pochettino as potential successors to his crown. In fact he had gone so far as to have even arranged talks with Mourinhio and Abrahomivic, the latter being so impressed by the passion, history, tradition of the club and wit, intelligence and good looks of many of the fan base at SE7 that he had surreptitiously laid plans to sell Chelsea and invest all of his funds into Charlton as a silent sleeping partner.
Curbishley apparently then informed the CAFC chairman of this offer and it was tabled with the trio aforementioned trio of players at a clandestine meeting next to discarded crate of past- sell- by- date gingsters pasties whereby Sorondo revealed he to had also been making similar enquiries. Out from behind one of the Co Op bins and into the shadowy night stepped Ian Dowie who proceeded to give a power point presentation against shop's rear wall whilst simultaneously working his way through a stale pack of pickled onion monster munch.
Reports state that Murray was substantially impressed and sensing a delicious opportunity to get one over sworn enemy, Simon Cornelius Jordan, he offered Dowie the gig there and then before crushing an empty tango can underfoot and bellowing "av' that you orange Nigel championship tosser!" prompting raucous laughter and backslapping amongst the cohorts with Bothroyd later admitting in his Booker- nominated autobiography caused such hilarity that " a bit of wee came out".
Curbs packed his gear up in a couple of old pukka pie boxes left for him in reception and was escorted off the premises by a rabid Keith Peacock sensing a shift in power and acting quick to stay in favour with the new regime. And the rest is history.
Given football is oft touted as 'a results business' it doesn't half reward failure! Why is it that only a handful of English managers and seemingly a whole raft of as yet unheard of western European managers are qualified to manage in the prem?
Comments
Thinking of succession and caring about the longevity of our club Curbishley had touted Mourinhio, Ranieri and then unknown Mauricio Pochettino as potential successors to his crown. In fact he had gone so far as to have even arranged talks with Mourinhio and Abrahomivic, the latter being so impressed by the passion, history, tradition of the club and wit, intelligence and good looks of many of the fan base at SE7 that he had surreptitiously laid plans to sell Chelsea and invest all of his funds into Charlton as a silent sleeping partner.
Curbishley apparently then informed the CAFC chairman of this offer and it was tabled with the trio aforementioned trio of players at a clandestine meeting next to discarded crate of past- sell- by- date gingsters pasties whereby Sorondo revealed he to had also been making similar enquiries. Out from behind one of the Co Op bins and into the shadowy night stepped Ian Dowie who proceeded to give a power point presentation against shop's rear wall whilst simultaneously working his way through a stale pack of pickled onion monster munch.
Reports state that Murray was substantially impressed and sensing a delicious opportunity to get one over sworn enemy, Simon Cornelius Jordan, he offered Dowie the gig there and then before crushing an empty tango can underfoot and bellowing "av' that you orange Nigel championship tosser!" prompting raucous laughter and backslapping amongst the cohorts with Bothroyd later admitting in his Booker- nominated autobiography caused such hilarity that " a bit of wee came out".
Curbs packed his gear up in a couple of old pukka pie boxes left for him in reception and was escorted off the premises by a rabid Keith Peacock sensing a shift in power and acting quick to stay in favour with the new regime. And the rest is history.
That's what I heard anyway.
Michael bloody Appleton
85th minute .. Chievo 4 v Verona 2 ... BUT no, the Video Review showed the 'scorer' to be just offside to keep the game alive ..