Dear Roy Hodgson,
I’m a nice man, by & large. Furthermore, despite a brief & unfortunate rebelliousness in my youth where I inexplicably supported Manchester United, I’ve been a Liverpool fan (as well as Colwyn Bay, but more on that later).
I understand it has been a turbulent time at Liverpool since January, with the previous owners wanting to suck every penny (or in their case, cent) out of the club for what they could – and 2010 won’t go down as one of Liverpool’s best year. However you can do us all a favour, and quit your position as Liverpool boss.
I hate saying this – I don’t like contributing to the nation’s growing unemployment – but I’ll think you’ll do just fine at another club. Say Manchester United. Or England. Whilst pundits & a few people I know (who are not Liverpool fans, I may add) think you should stay, here’s why I think you should go.
You’re Saying That The Famous Liverpool Support Isn’t There. In saying that you’ve turned against the fans.
Sorry, but support comes from a belief that isn’t there. The last Liverpool game I went to was the UEFA Cup tie against Benfica. Sure we were down by a goal at their gaff. But everybody in that cop believed that we could turn it round. Sure enough, we did. Belief is an amazing thing – compare that to the game a week before when United got eliminated by Bayern Munich at Old Trafford, a game they should’ve seen off comfortably. The 12th man, or lack thereof at the Theatre of Dreams, meant that Munich got back into the game. United lost belief, we didn’t that night, and it was one of the most fun nights of my life (the fact I went to see the game in the back of a Ford Transit, sat on a toolbox & no seatbelt made it a little bit special).
Now we don’t have that belief. The fans don’t, the players don’t, and most importantly – you don’t. You look lost on the sidelines when people are booing at 0-0 at Wolves. With good reason: we should be trouncing Wolves, like we trounced the last team in black & gold that got relegated. 7 players who started that day against Hull started against Wolves. It’s not that far fetched.
Yet whilst last season was a disappointment, this season has been nothing more than a tragedy. I’m scared Roy. I’m scared at what Manchester United are going to do to us in the FA Cup (actually, knowing how things are going, we’ll probably win that game, and everything will seem all better – like the Chelsea victory). Hell, I’m terrified at the prospect of the Bolton game, with Kevin Davies, Zat Knight & Johan Elmander tearing us apart.
I’m a Liverpool fan, Roy, I shouldn’t be scared of Johan fucking Elmander.
Compare that with my other team – Colwyn Bay FC. I get disappointed with a draw these days with them, despite the fact we’re second in the league, after winning a promotion last year. With Colwyn Bay, we’re not scared of anybody.
The problem is that people who are calling for time (such as Iain Dowie) want you to employ your standard of dull, dire football that are more suited to surviving in the league. Alas, it won’t stand for Liverpool fans, least not for me, who grew up in a barren time in the mid 1990’s, but by god at times we were fun to watch. Konchesky is slower than a paraplegic tortoise. Christian Poulson’s contribution to Liverpool is even worse than Gary Neville’s, and Joe Cole has proven that – like city bankers – they cannot work north of the Watford Gap.
But we still have good players! Torres, Kuyt, Gerrard. Why you choose to play so negative with these players I have no idea. It annoys us Roy, and that’s why I believe you’re not the man for Liverpool.
So please leave now. We can rebuild with a decent manager. I don’t want John W. Henry’s money being spent on hasbeens such as Poulson nor crap players like Konchesky. We need somebody who we can feel confident that can lead us into battle. We need a Brian Blessed, not a Joe Pasquale.
So, Dear Roy, Please Leave Liverpool Now.
A few people I know that’ll read this work in social media – if you ever need an example of a paying audience who follow your brand with such passion, check out the WWE.
