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Haunted by furry Moyes after days of saturation coverage

'Let's park David Moyes for a little while, can we?", said Joe Molloy on Tuesday's Off the Ball. "I've talked about David Moyes too much today." And so Moyes was parked, briefly, by the side of the radio road. But, by that stage, the damage had been done.

When I cartwheeled enthusiastically out of the scratcher on Monday morning jauntily whistling Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah (as is my wont), the words "David Moyes" were still reasonably capable of rousing my interest and up-pricking my ears.

Two days of saturation coverage later and I was reduced to wandering, mad-eyed, about the house dementedly shrieking "Moyes! Moyes! Moyes!" (to the tune of Sabrina's Summertime Love).

RUMOURS

That's coming from someone who has big love for the beautiful game. I can only imagine how the soccer-phobic must have felt, during a week when that name – and that story – became impossible to avoid.

On Monday's Game On, Hugh Cahill (sitting in for Damien O'Meara) said his team had anticipated "a nice easy day of it".

A lazy hour of bank holiday waffle. But then the rumours started, and news was threatening to break, and all roads began leading to Moyes.

"Do you have any sympathy for David Moyes?" Cahill asked Eamon Dunphy. "Not a lot, to be honest," before Dunphy proceeded (in inimitable style) to fillet the "shambles" of a team Moyes had inherited.

Vidic? "Finished, and injury prone." Ferdinand? "Finished." Evra? "Finished." Rafael? "Headbanger."

As for poor ol' bruised and broken Moyesy himself, there was much talk of ego, or lack thereof.

"David Moyes . . . doesn't have a huge ego," suggested Jim White (of The Daily Telegraph) on Tuesday's The Last Word.

The implication being, a) that this was a bad thing (or at least a thing that made him a poor fit for "the biggest sporting corporation in the world"), and, b) that this wasn't a problem his predecessor shared.

Fergie? Sure, he's modest as they come. Apart, y'know, from the fact that he currently glowers down (like a footballing Caligula) from the directors' box of a stadium which has a stand named after him . . . and a bronze likeness of himself outside.

"He'd too much deference", boomed Dunphy, back on Game On – referring to Moyes, obviously, not Emperor Ferguson.

He wasn't one of the "big beasts in the jungle of management," Dunphy continued, only on Tuesday's Today with Sean O'Rourke this time.

CURSED

Dion Fanning, a guest on the same show, developed the theme – calling Moyes "prudent", "cautious" and (therefore) "exactly the wrong man to succeed Alex Ferguson".

"He's cursed," quipped Fanning, "with the debilitating strain of reasonableness."

I was, by now, torn between a feeling of sympathy for this tiny reasonable "beast" (the image of a kindly but naive shrew sprang to mind), and the sense that I could happily live out the remainder of my days without ever again hearing the words "David Moyes".

"Tomorrow," concluded Off the Ball's Joe Molloy (on Tuesday evening), "will be a relatively David-Moyes-free zone."

I don't, I admit, know if it was or it wasn't, for I'd had more than my fill, so didn't listen in to check.

It's enough that my dreams are now haunted by visions of a wee furry Moyes shuffling sadly off into the undergrowth, as Sabrina implores us to get ready for her love.


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