Boiling Oil or Saint John

St John the Apostle is the patron saint of writers (as well as theologians, publishers, booksellers, editors, friendships, painters, burns and poisoning [?]) for perhaps obvious reasons, being as he was probably the most literary of the 12 (ish) followers of JC. Despite being dipped in boiling oil, he seemingly survived and died peacefully in his old age at Ephesus. Although disputed, there is a school of thought that the same John what wrote the Gospel and the Epistles also wrote the insane ramblings of the Book of Revelation. One could say of course that all of this is merely more of the church attempting to create historical echoes later on by contriving connections with Old Testament figures (comparisons are made between John and Daniel) and thus provide gravitas for the fairy tales and political machinations of the Christian faith.

Which brings me nicely on to the subject of the hour, which is of course the parting of the ways between Mr Hughes and Manchester City FC plc.com or whatever the fuck it is. You might assume from previous vitriolic outpourings that I would have been happy with the departure of the boy from Ruabon. After all, my picture clearly illustrates where the true roots of the man lay (and still lie, I'll warrant) and although I am of course not so naive as to think that I can possibly change the tide in the world of football by demanding or expecting that ex-United players are not involved with City, it does still rankle. I know that some of the decisions made over the past few months have not been made by Sparky, and I have to admit that there have been some fantastic matches (the recent display against Spurs aside) and even grudgingly accede that we are indeed still the 'same old City'.

I have warmed a little towards Hughes I suppose, though it would never have been a true love affair, even if he had taken us to the title and the Champions League final. However, evil, as President Obama told us recently, really does exist. Evil is always relative, and there is a far bigger pantomime villain than Hughes currently stalking the corridors of the CoMS. I speak of course of Mr Garry Cook. A first class twat who makes Peter Kenyon seem like a nice bloke to have a pint with. And that takes some doing. We've all been here before of course, with Spurs leading the way over the ridiculous Jol/Ramos situation, but it doesn't get any better with the watching - knowing that it will end with a massive cash payout and a nasty taste in the mouth.

As for Mancini, in common with the few people I've spoken to, I know very little about him, and the game against Stoke on Boxing Day will not be an easy one. Let's hope the pathetic dressing room rifts can be healed and we can get on with the football for a change.

Merry Christmas. Happy Yule. To one and all.