I spent some time last week composing a review of the season. I got as far as December then realised it was absolutely no fun at all, so never posted it. I could try to force an interest in how last season went, but the reality is with Coventry, it was all much of a muchness. We’ve seen it all before.
The standard was aptly demonstrated by Richard Keogh, a man whose individual errors single-handedly cost us 2594* points last year, being recognised as the player of the season. Don’t get me wrong, as a general rule I like big Rich, but when that level of performance is winning awards, you can be fairly certain it’s not been the best of seasons.
There’s only been one real ‘story’ since my last post so I felt it sensible to record my thoughts on this Marlon King hoopla and post them here, rather than waste much more of my time tweeting Leonard Brody.
I can’t compete when he simply spends every waking minute responding to maniacs blaming him for everything from the club being skint, to that weeping lad not winning Britain’s Got Talent.
It was Leonard himself who initiated all this excitement with the pre-announcement announcement that they were going to be announcing something but couldn’t announce what it was until the announcement had been announced.
Right you are.
Given the distinct lack of anything positive happening to us over the last couple of months, it didn’t take long for the rumours to pin it down to the supposedly wonderful news that Marlon had decided to stay. I said a while back that if we could get one out of the three contract renegades to stick around, we’d be doing well. King seemed most likely, given we’d apparently offered him a footballing olive branch and allowed him resurrect his career with us, whilst most of the football world just thought he was a sex-offending bastard.
The funny thing is he’s always been in control, and no matter how much we like to believe that we were doing him a favour, someone else would have signed him if we hadn’t. We didn’t save him from obscurity; we saved him from Watford, at worst.
As suspected, the club announced that King had agreed to stay on for another season, and it should be said, were also quite clear that he hadn’t actually signed – it was a verbal agreement.
And that’s where everything seemed to go tits up.
Marlon obviously took exception to this and got his agent to tell everyone that he was still available. The club thought otherwise and issued another statement committing to the verbal agreement.
The fans? Well they generally just swore at Leonard some more.
As far as I can see, the club had two choices. They could have kept quiet about the signs they were getting from Marlon, and let him go on holiday, a free agent, and allow other clubs to snoop around under the impression he was available.
Or the other option, the one they took, was to try and protect the agreement they felt they had with King, and go public about him signing on.
The mistake with that choice was when they did this before checking King was happy with communication which claimed a deal on his behalf. It seems daft now that he would have said anything other than ‘no’ to this, but at the very least we’d have been far clearer about his position and commitment.
The idea that if they’d just said nothing he’d have gone under the radar is nonsense, quite frankly. Okay, the mixed messages were obviously a catalyst, but he would have attracted the same attention, regardless. The good news from this happening now is that we’re in a far stronger position to begin looking for his replacement, and are not going to be strung along for the whole summer like Gunnarsson’s no doubt going to do to us while he searches for a better options.
And what of Marlon?
Well, in my view, he’s nothing more than a glorified Clinton Morrison, with a better first touch but even more of a whinging swine (I know, that’s saying something).
People say that he can’t be blamed for taking the money and the opportunity. True. But what he can be blamed for is the confusion over the last few days. Not the club, who were left in a difficult position and in the end had to pin their faith on the word of a professional footb…
Ha, it’s a struggle to even finish that sentence. The word of a professional footballer?
What a barmy notion.