If there is one thing that ENIC and Levy do not like it is the glare of the spotlight shining on their faces showing for all to see the facade of their tenure as owners of THFC as a mechanism to unlock land and property development.
Levy in particular appears to like the shadowlands, where he can remain outside the glare of the prying eyes of the world. A world of non-accountability, non-public ownership, where he can satiate his Napoleonic lust for control and power.
A status he would struggle to sustain in a public arena where his machinations would be subject to scrutinization and critique. I have said several times in the recent past that the jig is up for ENIC and Levy. They have rolled their loaded dice for over two decades, manipulating the narrative to conceal their truth and to perpetuate the penury myth with its ever repeating new project plot line.
Meandering from season to season like some Pied Piper of Haringey followed by the emptying wallets of the emotionally vested generational legacy of the supporters. They led these masses to the promised land of the as-yet-unnamed billion-dollar Valhalla only for them to awaken and find that indeed the gold and glory that was promised was nowhere to be seen as the chosen ones to deliver were in fact in absentia.
The Pied Piper has led everyone down a cul-de-sac from which there is no turning back. The hubris of taking the wrong path no longer has validity or substance, and the followers are awakening. The mist of deception is beginning to clear from their eyes, and they are beginning to see that before them is a barren wasteland devoid of any semblance of green shoots of hope or a future emboldened with the DNA of To Dare is To Do.
As the veil of ENIC and Levy slips yet further reveal their abhorrent visage the whisper of disenchantment and anger builds to a rising crescendo amongst the masses.
They begin to realise that in this desert, this monolith entity that has feasted on the flesh and blood of the beloved host of THFC can not survive without drinking the water that pours from their wallets. One by one, they turn their heads away from the carcass of ENIC that is writhing in the withering gaze of their awakened consciousness.
Quietly, one by one they start closing their wallets with a soft movement that resonates like a thunderclap in the head of the beast before them. A beast that has realised that the jig is finally up and that the true power has shifted at that moment back from whence it came. It is done. It is over. As the masses turn and walk away, the sun begins to rise on a new day and a new future. Let it be, Lord, Let It Be!