‘No fits on FA Cup ultimate day? Pep Guardiola and Calum McFarlane ought to have been banned’
BRENT A GOB: This week, Harry Brent’s raging at Pep Guardiola and Calum McFarlane for refusing to suit up, Liverpool fans for wanting Arne Slot sacked, and Jesse Lingard for… being Jesse Lingard
Our man Harry Brent is raging in his latest column
Whatever happened to managers wearing suits for the FA Cup final?
That shred of basic dignity is currently rotting in the bin right next to Xabi Alonso’s managerial career. I get it. To some people, ‘British tradition’ is a dirty phrase – much like ‘financial integrity’ allegedly is at Manchester City. But like Cole Palmer and his endearing idiocy, we need to protect it at all costs.
The fact that Pep Guardiola and Calum McFarlane walked out at Wembley looking like a pair of divorced dads lumbering towards a Sunday custody swap in a Morrisons car park was a slap in the face to the heritage of English football on par with KSI buying Dagenham & Redbridge to harvest their soul for TikTok views.
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I get that Pep’s whole aesthetic is moody, Catalan Steve Jobs , but what’s McFarlane’s excuse? The biggest game of his life and he turns up looking scruffier than Avram Glazer’s beard.
If managers can’t be bothered to look the part, then ban them from the touchline. It’s the FA Cup final, not a shoeless, dressing-gown shuffle to the curb to drag your wheelie bin in.
You’ve Slot to be kidding me
I know Liverpool fans aren’t exactly top bracket when it comes to being rational – not to mention humble, self-aware or capable of taking a joke – but the fact that they want Arne Slot sacked is loonier than paying £116million for the German Charlie Adam.
Even if we completely ignore the minor detail that he won the bloody league last year, Slot’s current campaign is hardly a sackable offence.
Champions League football is basically wrapped up, despite the fact he’s spent the season managing a toxic skip full of overpriced flops and a certain whingey Egyptian who has suddenly decided scoring points on social media is more important than scoring goals.
Liverpool have a proud and enviable history of giving managers time, of avoiding knee-jerk decisions.
But Kopites are willing to taint that record because of a few rough months under circumstances more awkward than John Terry being stuck in a lift with Wayne Bridge.
Sure, the chance to nab Xabi Alonso would make anyone twitchy – and watching him fall into Chelsea’s arms is like watching that girl you fancy leave the pub with the bloke who’s p***** his jeans.
But any Liverpool fan calling for Slot’s head is more short-sighted than Velma Dinkley. In the immortal words of Harry and Paul: Calm down, calm down!
Jess is a mess
Remember Jesse Lingard? That Mancunian man-child who owns more ugly bucket hats than a 45-year-old Oasis fan on a midlife crisis trip to Ibiza.
Well, he’s currently nicking a living out in Brazil with Corinthians – and has just gone viral for wearing “J-Lingz” on the back of his shirt. I wish I was joking.
Now, full disclosure before the pedants comes for me: the entire squad had nicknames on their backs. It was a one-off gimmick for a charity initiative. Fine. Whatever. No problems there.
But can we please just pause, step back, and collectively acknowledge that a 33-year-old grown man still unironically rocking the moniker “J-Lingz” – with a bloody Z on the end, no less – is having to download an app and create an account just to order a pint at the pub-levels of infuriating.
Is he hurting anybody? No. Am I an incredibly bitter, miserable b******? Obviously.
But does J-Lingz deserve to get dry sand thrown directly into his eyes for this? Unquestionably.
