In about 1968 I went Valentines Park in Ilford to watch cricket. Essex always played one of their fixtures at ‘our’ park, so it seemed rude not to go. It was a lovely summer day, bright and sunny, in the school holidays, and the cricket, against Gloucester, was as boring as any middle day of a league match could be. So at the tea break my mates and I ventured outside into the park and joined a kickabout. Three older guys came over and joined in too. They were some geezer who’s name (and career) I’ve forgotten, Frank Lampard Senior and Harry Redknapp (the 1st and hopefully only). And they were just great. They didn’t show off, they didn’t play rough, they never asked for a bung, they were just lovely guys enjoying football. And they signed all our scorecards and cricket bats and everything else, because even back then Harry could just about manage to write his own name. Thus I’ve always had a soft spot for Harry Redknapp. My mate.

But do I trust him? Do I believe his stated motivations, intentions and excuses?? Of course not. The man’s a rogue, a villain, one of life’s ‘colourful characters’, a euphemism for someone that causes you to check your watch is still there after a handshake. The watch on the courtroom where he was acquitted of tax evasion was definitely missing afterwards.

Unfortunately, after that fiasco of a trial, Harry was put forward as the next most likely England manager, a job he’d always lusted over. He never got the job, but the media frenzy surrounding Harry over the months of the trial and the job threw Spurs’ season completely out of kilter. He was our manager. We loved him. He took us to the promised land (Champions League) and showed us how great life could be. Then he pulled the rug away brutally after dominating the front pages for 3 months. He took his eye off the ball. Understandably in some ways, but no more easy to swallow for knowing the reasons.

So when he left Spurs I wasn’t sorry. Life had become about him, not the team.

And now he’s left Queens Park Rangers. For knee surgery. Which obviously couldn’t wait another 3 months til the season’s end, even though he’s carried the problem for years. No, it has to be NOW. Leaving QPR in the shit.

Maybe his ‘resignation’ was just a nice way of saying that Tony Fernandez sacked him. If so that’s rather odd timing, even for the impetuous Tony Fernandez. But never mind, Tim Sherwood, the stand-in’s stand-in, will take over at the club til the end of the season.

I’d love to know the real story here. Answers (or mere speculations) on a postcard, per-lease.

Happy wednesday

A xxxx