Ange has been neutered mate, he’s turned all ‘happyclappy’ on us! A one-man Hari Krishna procession, down Tottenham Court Road … pardon me Tottenham High Rd, in his saffron robes, clutching his prayer beads and a little portrait of Daniel Levy!
He’s bought into Levyism, hook, line and sinker. The fattest pay cheque of his entire career, in exchange for ‘omertà’ and unlike Jose or Conte, he has neither the stature in the game nor the credentials, nor one presumes the bank balance, to bite the hand, that feeds him!
Accordingly, he’s now just a cuddly, raucous-voiced, koala of a coach; an Antipodean Levy sock puppet, spouting meaningless platitudes. The Aussie version of Poch’s “Bery happy”, until he isn’t! Then, like Poch, the Levy scapegoat mechanism will bring the whole charade to a…
