Exclusive - The Real Truth About Grealish and Kane
I have had a bromance with Jack Grealish as much as the next man but the adulation in the media is now ridiculous and the money obscene. Be in no doubt that his move will be bad news for Gareth Southgate. In theory, Sterling, Grealish, Stones, Foden, Walker and Kane will all be at Man City. Whatever the rotation, that club will have bought its way to winning every competition and all players will be knackered for England by the time of the World Cup.
This suits Guardiola well. He sits there very possibly with the expectation that he can from a distance queer Southgate's pitch by pulling the strings on how much they all play and even on their availability for international friendlies. Then when Gareth fails, he can demand massive money to manage England on the grounds that he has experience of more than half of the main England team and even shaped them.
Furthermore, Man City have deliberately chosen to be owned in effect by the United Arab Emirates who until January of this year - when new ties were allegedly restored but don't believe a word of it - - have had lousy relations with Qatar. Qatar will therefore have the hump before England even get to take the knee (or a knee as Hugh Woozencroft insists on calling it - bloody annoying as I keep thinking they are all taking an e.)
My main gripe, though, is that with Grealish moving - still to be confirmed actually - and Ings going to Villa, that buggers up the option of having Wally Otkins in one's fantasy football team somewhat, don't it. I think the only thing that softens the blow of any of this is the fact - little known - that Harry Kane has never really in truth existed. He is just a clever hologram of a player who was born in the East End of London in 1901. This was and is Bert Halfacre who would have been a household name now if he hadn't had the strange congenital condition of being only a quarter of a millimetre tall.
Only known to a couple who ran a pie and mash shop in Hackney, they recognised his talent very early on and installed a special tailor made pitch for him inside a King Edwards potato. It wasn't until this century when the potato was rediscovered in fossilised form. His DNA was extracted with a pipette by scientists at Porton Down laboratory before being sent to the Hadron Collider where a big pump had been installed. Air was pumped into him to make him the normal size and beamed into electricity's visual field. A new name and a new voice given. The rest as they say is history. Except someone must have now turned the switch off.
(Written following the attendance at a party by my newspaper's fashion editor Romelu Ward-Prowse)