Mark Hughes is not the right man for the job.
Oh, I know that loyalty - especially these days (though one could argue that there never really was a Golden Age, and that this vaunted ideal only ever existed purely in the heads and hearts of the fans. Viz. Denis Law) - doesn't bear any relation to the game as we know it. The prima donnas of the Premier League, as we know, are only in it for the substantial quids they receive, or else the occasional stamp of approval from shopping obsessed wives and girlfriends. But there has to be a line drawn somewhere, a marker laid down in the sand. And in my case, that marker is Mark(er) Hughes, the Ruabon soul dancer. Apart from the (admittedly very major) fact that he used to be a Rag, there are many other reasons for my feelings towards the man and the manager.
I'm sick, to begin with, of all the crap that's regularly spouted by the press about Sparky being some sort of rising star, the most intelligent manager in the league, etc., etc. Blah blah blah. Where's the proof? In the Wales job, his biggest achievement was almost qualifying for the European Championships in 2004. Big deal. At Blackburn (and I know I'm being un-gracious here, but who cares?) his team kicked and scrapped their way into the top 6, into cups and stuff and into Europe without ever being entertaining to watch. And that's really what he's all about. This is not the City way, unless you count the Peter Reid or, um, Brian Horton years. We may have been a sack of shit since around 1976, but at least we've been a fun sack of shit. When I hear the name, or worse see the picture, of Scotty Parker associated with the lazer blue, a cold shiver descends my spine. With all the Abu Dhabi dosh at his disposal, Hughes talks about signing Scott Parker.
For my sins, I seem to be acquainted with a lot of Spurs fans, and one of them, in his repeated rants at Darren Bent, says the Bent is not a Spurs player. He may bang in the goals (occasionally) but he doesn't have that trademark Spurs style, and as such will never be accepted into the bosom of the White Hart Lane faithful quite as warmly as, say, John Chiedozie or Jason Dozzell (I jest, of course, when I mention that last name) In the same way, Hughes will never ever ever be a City man. I think it would be highly amusing if we went down this season, thus ensuring that the Welshman is removed from his post, and we can continue to be typical City. It's up to you to decide if you think I'm being serious or not.