Oh José. Oh José, oh José, oh José. The Chelsea manager is not exactly the sort of person that someone might write mournful folk songs bemoaning his departure - ‘The Ballad Of He Who Poked That Bloke In The Eye’ perhaps - but when he’s gone, we’ll probably miss him. Some will miss him like they’d miss a flea infestation, but others will fondly recall the days when they had someone to really hate in the Premier League, a man to really get their annoyance juices flowing. Oh, and a few actually might be genuinely sad that he’s not there anymore because they like him. Weird, eh?

Word is that while José might not be a dead man walking, he’s certainly quite a sick man strolling, and following Chelsea’s latest calamity in TUMBLING out of the Capital One Cup (something that actually might not be a tremendous calamity at all as while it’s nice to win a trophy, this might allow them to concentrate on weightier matters, but we are all sons and daughters of the narrative now) to Stoke, there’s a queue of managers lining up to replace Mourinho. Well, two. Two’s a queue, right?

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In what is perhaps a sign that Roman Ambramovich has been through every other manager in the world that might be willing to work with him, he is reportedly flicking through his old contact book to give some former friends a shout, with Carlo Ancelotti and Guus Hiddink the men who could fill José’s loafers. Ancelotti apparently doesn’t want the gig if he’s just a stop-gap and will insist on a little more commitment from Roman, but as we know the Chelsea owner is not afraid of binning a manager under contract, so what his promises are worth is debatable at best. In case you were wondering about the third potential player in this little bedroom farce, Pep Guardiola has placed a metaphorical zip over his mouth and promised that no longer will he talk about his future. He lives in the now. Just enjoy the moment, man.



To other matters. There was a time when Marco Veratti was the hottest thing out there, a fad to rival Pogs, or deely boppers, or those trainers with lighty-up bits in the soles that the Mill sees are back now. Veratti isn’t quite so hot right now, but he remains a very good player indeed, a conclusion that his current employers PSG clearly are on board with, for they value their man at something close to £72million. Well, sort of. His agent says he’s worth that much. And they always speak the truth. Manchester United are keen, it says here.

Speaking of United, there’s mystery at Old Trafford. Ooooooh, how exciting. Break out the Mystery Machine, give Maigret a bell, see if Clouseau’s hat is properly dusted, this is going to be a doozy of a quandry. The mystery is where Víctor Valdés is going, for his agent reckons a stay in the Premier League is on the cards when he’s finally shoved out of the Carrington door in a big sack, but the old tease won’t tell us where his man is off to. Obviously the Mill doesn’t do wild, irresponsible, ill-informed speculation, so we can’t possibly guess which club it might be. But it might be Liverpool.

Meanwhile, something’s afoot in the wind at Víctor’s old club, as Barcelona are looking at renewing the contracts of Leo Messi and Neymar, having shrewdly spotted they’re both decent. Not to be left scrabbling in the dust by their big rivals, Real Madrid are supposedly jumping on the fresh deal bandwagon and are going to give Keylor Navas a new contract too. Take THAT Catalunya. One man seemingly not joining the keeper in looking to the long-term at the Bernabéu is I-S-C-O, who would like to be set free to roam where he wants, which might turn out to be a club in England. A club like Liverpool, Arsenal or Chelsea for example, although whoever wants him will have to pay £35million.

Speaking of wildly-hyped Brazilian forwards (well, a few sentences ago), word is that West Ham are looking at Alexandre Pato, even if (understatement ahoy) his career hasn’t quite panned out like Neymar’s has. The Hammers at one time were also thought to be keen on Charlie Austin, but these days he’s the apple of Steve McClaren’s eye at Newcastle, the poor sod.



Finally, Harry Redknapp has ruled himself out of the Aston Villa job. Exactly who ruled him in is currently something of a mystery.

