AND so Samuel AllardicÃ© is cast into the stygian abyss of failed Blackburn Rovers allenatori. But which new Theseus will come forth to slay the Minotaur that is the fair red rose of Lancashire’s unfulfilled desires?
One can only imagine the horrors Mr Hughton has endured, leaving the bosom of London to earn his stipend in the wastelands of the north east. He is Siegfried Sassoon, idealistically volunteering for the managerial trenches only to be emotionally shattered by years of mud, rain and Shearer. Still, the boy’s a grafter. 12-1
Sven Goran Eriksson
Fellow Swede, August Strindberg, wrote his plays entirely in the nude while his secretary played the lyre and danced around his studio wearing nothing but a lavender-scented handkerchief. I feel Eriksson would approve of such methods and would therefore be unlikely to move to Blackburn, where the ladies wear enormous Y-fronts and rough, hessian camisoles. 22-1
I understand this fellow was the previous understudy for the role and as such should be chased out of the building with a broom forthwith. Nothing good can come from giving the hired help ideas above their station as I learnt to my cost after allowing my gardener to warm his toes on my hotplate. 17-1
Had Kenneth Grahame set Wind In The Willows amongst a group of mafiosi, this is what Toad would have looked like. If truth is beauty then this man is sixteen stone of outright deceit. Too, too ghastly. 36-1
Better known for his work in ceramics, I feel Grayson could offer a new aesthetic to a team perennially bogged down in the prosaic cul-de-sac of their own balls. One feels the lives of the annual ticket holders at Ewood Park may be enriched if their voucher granted them regular exposure to sado-masochistic pottery rather than a ‘David Dunn’. 3-1