Another week, another bucket of bilge from Derek Johnstone in the Evening Shark-Jump.
This week he has come up with a startling recommendation for Warbo. Although quite why the greatest manager in the world would want to take any notice of advice from the outer fringes of rationality is beyond me.
DJ has noticed (perhaps because Warbo was banging on about it earlier this week) that players from English football aren’t very affordable to Scottish clubs these days. Especially for those pretending to be a club that used to employ now-frowned upon tax-‘minimisation’ schemes, and for whom ‘expenditure’ may consist of asking potential signings whether buttons and magic beans are an acceptable form of payment.
Nowadays even clubs in the English third tier are paying out quite eye-watering amounts of money for players. This makes even fairly ordinary footballers increasingly unobtainable for Scottish clubs, living as they are in the nuclear winter of the TV deals negotiated by our game’s Great Leaders.
But Derek has a solution, and it is one that has presumably never previously occurred to anyone in the entire history of the world, least of all folk living in the rampant capitalist western societies of the past 200 years.
Are you ready for it?
If you know any economics professors you might want to call them over to look at your screen. This could redefine their careers.
Yes that’s right folks. DJ suggests that if The Warbmeister doesn’t like the prices being charged for footballers in England (or – *gasp* – he can’t afford them), he should shop elsewhere!
I wish I had been aware of this idea of ‘shopping around’ before I handed over £10 trillion to the man who responded to my advert for someone to repair a loose slate on the roof of Clumpany Towers. He rode up on a horse and was wearing a Stetson. He said he could sort the slate issue by thatching the entire roof with dodo feathers, but his diary was very full and he would have to do it there and then, with payment up front. This sounded fair enough and I handed over the money
The mounted tradesman then passed the cash to an associate seated in a very fast-looking car with a horse box on the back, and who was dangling a bag marked ‘Swag’ out of the window.
Five seconds, later they went off to “get supplies from the dodo farm” and I never saw them again.
Now that I have read the Wisdom of DJ I can’t help but feel that I was robbed and should have sought out alternative roofers.
In view of my experience, I think that society as a whole would be much better off if DJ was given his own primetime consumer advice TV show. Given the pig’s ear he often makes of punditry, perhaps it could be entitled “Watchhog”?