On Thursday, June 8th, his first day as Arsenal manager, Bruce Rioch did more owning up than George Graham did in nine years, and more than Terry Venables has done in 39 years.
Rioch admitted breaking the jaw of Colin Anderson, a Torquay youth team player who nutmegged him in training.
“I was wrong and I resigned,” said Rioch. “It’s a period of my life I often reflect on because I knew I was out of order.”
HE played for Derby and Aston Villa, where he was a notorious bruiser. He confessed that, “Over-the-top tackling was part and parcel of the game during my time as a player and when you live by the sword you had to be prepared to die by it. I needed someone to sort me out, to sit me down and tell me it would not be tolerated.”
Such honesty is a very encouraging sign.
In fact, I’m so inspired by Rioch’s words that I’ve decided to make a radical change in my slobbish lifestyle.
From now on, this column will be conduct itself in a proper and orderly manner. This column will be clean-shaven, short-haired and punctual. This column will get married. This column will wear a FourFourTwo blazer at all away games. This column will not punch taxi-drivers or let off fire extinguishers in pizza restaurants. This column will not go boozing in Cockfosters on the Friday night before Arsenal play Coventry. If this column is breathalysed before training, and fails the test, it expects to be sent home to sober up.