The four stages of our brave new world. Stone’s in, Webber’s on his way, who’s next through the door?Mon 27 Mar 17 by Martin Penney
Mothers’ Day is an imprecise event for me. Anything might happen, and quite often does.
Number one son and my daughter quite naturally spend some time with their mother if they can – but as one lives in Southsea and the other in the Romford area it isn’t always possible for them to get back to her house in Norwich for the event, but they try.
That still leaves plenty of scope for my partner’s sons and assorted others to descend upon us. We don’t always know who or when, just where. Here, of course, and it’s always good to see whoever turns up.
Some might even bring flowers, cards and chocolates. Others might bring the odd squabble with them. After all, it’s a family.
But my Mothers’ Day pales into total insignificance compared to the revolving door that has been installed at Carrow Road and will surely be used untiringly over the ensuing months.
The process has started and is so far looking pretty good from what limited information I can glean, which is no more or less than any of us once I’ve discounted the odd snippet of “maybe” I sometimes hear. The sources of “maybe” are usually totally unreliable anyway, which is why I very rarely quote them on MFW. Back to the process:
Stage one: The rather predictable appointment of Steve Stone looks safe and sound. While I’ve never met him, I have not heard a single negative from anywhere or anybody surrounding his elevation to managing director. And that’s how I like it.
Stage two: Sporting director. It appears highly likely from rumblings both here and in Yorkshire that Stuart Webber is on his way. Apart from a couple of message board gripes, everybody appears to see this as a positive move. I know I do.
To hark back to Gary’s piece, we should not expect David Wagner to accompany him south. What we can and must expect is that with his undeniable contacts and knowledge he will (help us) select…
Stage three: Head coach. This is the point at which supporters generally start to get considerably more interested in the selection process and its outcome. We do not want to be singing “Who needs Mourinho, we’ve got our physio” as the ill-fated Tranmere did several years ago. So, who do we want?
Well, Paul Heckingbottom is right up at the top of the bookies’ lists, of which I take less notice than some other supporters. My morning read suggests Uwe Rosler, and Ryan Giggs has been bandied about. The latter, I feel, is unlikely to happen for a couple of reasons but I could be wrong. I often am.
Throw in “those names who will not go away” (Nigel Pearson, Alan Pardew and obviously Alan Irvine himself) and my hastily-compiled six-person list is split equally between the old guard and the new generation. Three of each.
If Webber arrives, as we seem to expect him to, I think that discounts the old guard in its entirety. I am not sorry about that on a personal level to be honest.
Now, the juicy part.
Stage four: The players. Most of us have had a go at this conundrum for some weeks now. Let’s be fair, none of us knows who might be coming in, but there seems to be some consensus on who will be exiting the revolving door. I feel there will be more outs than ins this close-season.
For me, nailed on for the departure lounge are Michael Turner, Seb Bassong, Steven Whittaker, Kyle Lafferty and Youssouf Mulumbu. Apart from one stupendous season from Bassong and a wonderful assist at Wembley from Whittaker, all for various reasons have been abject failures we appear to have retained for misguided business reasons.
Finance may well dictate the futures of Timm Klose, Steven Naismith and John Ruddy. I wouldn’t be that sorry to lose any one of them to be honest; my worry would be how much would we get for the trio? Possibly less than for Rod, Jane and Freddy, I’m afraid.
Michael McGovern and Declan Rudd. They won’t both be here next season in my opinion. Nor will Tony Andreu and Conor McGrandles.
My primitive arithmetic tells me that’s already double figures out of the equation, and in addition to that the Alex’s Pritchard and Tettey are by no means nailed on to stay either. Mitchell Dijks? Not a hope in Hades.
So when my Mothers’ Day door has revolved for the last time today I’ll spare a thought for the upcoming revamp at Carrow Road.
And doubtless be grateful I only have friends and family to deal with and not the running of a football club.
Our football club.