ALEX’S ANGLE: DYCHE DRIVEL

I AM not one bit surprised to read reports stating Sean Dyche would seriously consider the Celtic manager’s job if he received an offer.

I hope he is not holding his breath awaiting contact from anyone of prominence at Parkhead.

I’ve got more chance of winning gold in the 100 metres sprint in the next Olympics in Los Angeles in July 2028 than the gruff Dyche being handed the keys to the kingdom.

You and I knew there would be a cascade of names cropping up from everywhere as soon as there were doubts about 74-year-old Martin O’Neill’s durability in the role following three admittedly awful performances in a succession of dismal defeats in three different competitions, two of them in the east end of Glasgow.

Onlookers have been left in a catatonic condition at the champions’ rapid fall from grace.

X-CERTIFICATE VIEWING…a pensive Martin O’Neill looks on at Ibrox.

Knee-jerk reactions are the order of the day, panic buttons are feverishly pressed and, in an instant, last season’s achievement of leading Celtic to what looked at one stage like a highly improbable league and Cup double in the midst of extreme turbulence is forgotten.

O’Neill, as manager of the team, is in direct line of the ire from the agitated supporters whose memory bank was wiped clean long before the final whistle brought down the curtain on the team’s incomprehensible eight-day collapse.

I was discussing the Ibrox calamity and ejection from the Premier Sports League Cup with a former prominent member on and off the pitch of Celtic. He wouldn’t thank me for divulging his identity, so I’ll keep my word and leave him in his anonymity.

To say his comments about the players that miserable afternoon were scathing would be a monumental understatement.

I couldn’t possibly quote him verbatim, but you’ll get the drift that the observations were far removed from complimentary. Nobody escaped his considered criticism.

This was not someone craving publicity, wishing to take the spotlight or seeking headlines for his thoughts on a collection of players who fell way short of the standard expected and required of any individual permitted to wear those green and white hoops.

The qualities of our veteran team chief were not questioned. It was all down to the performers – or, more accurately, non-performers – who crossed that white line in Govan when it was anticipated they would offer their best endeavours, to compete wholeheartedly for possession, to strain every sinew and remember which club they were representing.

Collectively, they wretchedly failed in their duties.

GOVAN GRIEF…Liam Scales and Sam Johnstone as Celtic head for the League Cup exit. 

And that, of course, flags up the fact that O’Neill, apparently football’s version of Methuselah, is long past his best, has nothing left in the tank and retirement from public life is now an urgent requirement.

The widespread acrimony has led to all sorts of imbecilic comments and equally moronic speculation.

Enter the name of Sean Dyche, a manager who has been out of work since being sacked by Nottingham Forest in February just four months into a two-year contract.

This the same Sean Dyche who has also managed Watford, Burnley and Everton and been dismissed by all three of his previous clubs.

I cannot pretend to possess any knowledge as to why the gravel-voiced 55-year-old gaffer was handed his P45 from any of his quartet of employers.

One thing I do know is that he has not won a major honour in his 15 years or so prowling the touchline.

In his 583 league games as manager, Dyche has won 202, drawn 167 and lost 214. Roughly, that’s a win percentage of 34.85.

There was a one-time glamorous Hollywood actress by the name of Zsa Zsa Gabor who never turned in any kind of screen performance that would have led to an Oscar nomination.

Good old Zsa Zsa often admitted she “was famous for being famous.”

I’m beginning to think Dyche is heading along similar lines.

A few years ago, I was informed by a Govan mole that the old Ibrox board were considering a move for Dyche as they prepared to give the managerial merry-go-round yet another spin.

I haven’t a clue if they took their initial interest any further, but I was told Dyche’s salary may have been an obstacle too far.

MIXED EMOTIONS…despair for Colby Donovan and delight for the Ibrox opponents.

According to reports, he earned an annual £5million during his brief two-season stint at Everton. That’s something in the region of £96,000-per-week, folks.

At Forest, the reported figure was pegged at a mere £4million per year. There was talk of a lucrative compensation pay-off that varied between £500,000 and £6million, depending on where you receive your information.

I think we can all agree that Sean Dyche does not come cheap.

Nor, as the record book emphasises, does he guarantee success. Unless, of course, your idea of success is staving off relegation which appeared to be the ceiling at homely, little Burnley.

Not even in my wildest hallucination, can I conjure up a vision of Dyche standing in the centre circle at Parkhead holding a green and white scarf above his head.

Mind you, my friend, strange things do happen in the beautiful game.

This time last year, Brendan Rodgers was the man in charge of all team matters concerning the champions.

Whatever happened to him?

ALEX GORDON

 

 

 

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