Just a quickie about Jose Mourinho who has described his life in Manchester as a “disaster”. Since accepting the Manchester United job, Mourinho has being living in a top Manchester hotel whilst his family remain in London. With a salary of a mere £10 million a year, which works out at a miserly £200k a week, hands up who doesn’t feel sorry for him?
I will cut Mourinho a little slack because English is not his first language, so perhaps he was not directly comparing his temporary living arrangements with, say, an earthquake (see tonight’s breaking news from Italy) which I would say really is a disaster. But I will qualify this by saying the man is an unqualified twat of the highest order, a million miles away from the reality of ordinary folk, many of whom pay his wages, ether through ticket sales at Old Trafford or, more likely, the likes of me who subscribe to Sky.
Although he would probably not want to live in an ex council house in South Gloucestershire, he could buy my house with slightly less than a week’s wages and still have a few bob left to redecorate it. He could buy my entire street before next spring. These people live in a different world.
Some people, for reasons well beyond my level of comprehension, seem to love Mourinho because he is, presumably, that catch-all term, “a character”. That, in the eyes of the media and those who swear by what the media tells them to think, gives him licence to say anything he likes, no matter how crass and offensive it is.
I don’t know if Mourinho has thought of this, as he returns to his luxury suite in the smartest hotel in the north west (it’s bound to be), but he could sort out his “disaster” in one of two ways. He could either buy a luxury house – this might take as long as four weeks to save up for – or he could piss off back to London, if his family, bless ’em, can’t stomach the idea of all those pies and cheap beer.
I see a world that’s suffering, internationally and at home. I see the harrowing pictures from Aleppo and those emerging from Italy’s earthquake tonight. On a daily basis I see those with horribly debilitating illnesses and others with terminal illnesses and few of them complain about their lot. Some of the very poorest people are also the most generous. But then a football manager comes along, someone who is richer than God, and announces that his luxury existence is a “disaster”.
Have you ever come across someone in the latter stages of cancer, Parkinsons, Alzheimers, Huntingdons or any of the 57 million varieties of life-destroying conditions and illnesses? Have you ever met the people who have escaped genocidal maniacs who have lost everything, except their lives? Have you ever spoken to people in this country whose homes and belongings were destroyed by floods? I have and I would say that these are the real people who have suffered from disasters, some personal, some acts of nature, not some egotistical narcissist who, due to his own decisions, has chosen to live away from his family.
If you feel sorry for Mourinho, look in the Big Book of Perspective or just get out more. This man has no sense of perspective at all.
