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You Utter Git!
Anger as Carlos Tevez Appears to Refuse to Play
By Shane Clarke
London Correspondent
Carlos Tevez

The UEFA Champions Cup – the biggest, most lucrative and most watched international football club competition in the world. It’s where the best of the best teams in Europe come together every year to show the world who the daddy is. It’s the tournament all the best players want to compete in and win; people like Lionel Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo and Wayne Rooney - arguably three of the best in the world. European nights give us the gifts of glamour, triumph, agony and ecstasy. Us lucky fans are treated to the sight of our favourite players going head to head, sublime skills and sometimes breathtaking goals.

However, last night we were treated to the sight of some spoilt little turd with an over-inflated ego apparently refusing to play for his club. “Surely not!” I hear you cry. What manner of man could ever be so selfish, arrogant and disrespectful to his team to do such a thing?

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you – Carlos Tevez.

Oh, yes – Carlos Tevez, folks. With his team losing 2-0 to Bayern Munich in a Champions League group match last night, and with 35 minutes left to go, Man City manager Roberto Mancini called upon him to go out there and put a shift in to try to save the team’s night. But little Carly wasn’t listening. Little Carly was sulking, you see, because he thinks the world should revolve around him, and the world is saying, “yeah, right. Get a life, little boy”.

Unhappy at others grabbing all the attention, i.e. Cristiano Ronaldo and the whole will he/won’t he stay at Man Utd saga a couple of years back, then Cesc Fabregas doing the same at Arsenal last year, little Carly decided to set up a story of his own. So he started saying he wanted to leave Man City, and thus came a range of ever-changing excuses as to why, such as being unhappy in Manchester, being homesick, family reasons, and falling out with the Man City board. But what it all boils down to is that Tevez was acting like that kid you find at every family party the world over. You know the one: Mommy’s little prince, who’s not spoilt he’s just highly strung, who only has temper tantrums when he’s tired, and who when he snatches a toy from another child and makes them cry it’s just about learning to share. As a result, the little nob becomes the centre of attention – which he loves, and he revels in. However, what he doesn’t know is that no one is thinking about how great he is; they’re all thinking the same thing – “If you were my kid and you acted like that, you wouldn’t sit down for a week, you little brat.”

Anyway, Man City were prepared to let little Carly leave over the summer, and I bet he was rubbing his hands with glee, standing up straight and throwing his head back, waiting for every club in the world to come hammering on City’s door, offering millions, billions, their first-born child and the known universe for the privilege of signing MR CARLOS TEVEZ (fanfare, angels singing, fireworks – you know how it goes).

Unfortunately, it didn’t quite work out like that for our Carly. It was like that scene in the Disney film – Mary Poppins: The Banks family have just hired her, and they tell the housekeeper to go out and dismiss the other candidates. The housekeeper goes to the door expecting to find a huge queue outside, but all she finds is a little terrier dog and a bare street.

The little terrier dog in this case was Brazilian side, Corinthians, whose offer was described by a City spokesperson as “widely optimistic”. Apart from that, no serious offers came in for Tevez. The world wasn’t clamouring to sign him, there was going to be no will he/won’t he soap opera about whether he would join Real Madrid or Barcelona. There wouldn’t even be one about whether or not he would join the Bognor Regis Celebrity Eleven and play alongside Barry the fire-eater, Colin the narcoleptic pub-singer and Jim Davidson.

Carly must have been crushed. It was like that time as a teenager – and we’ve all done this – when you tried it on with a boyfriend or girlfriend, giving them an ultimatum – do what I want or you’re dumped. You stand there, expecting the tears to come, and the begging, the apologies and the promises to do anything you want. But instead, he/she just shrugs their shoulders, says, ‘Okay,’ and walks away. You want to call after them, ‘Hey – you’re doing it wrong! There’s supposed to be the crying and begging and all that. You’re supposed to worship me. Get back here and worship me, dammit!’ But they don’t; they just keep on walking.

A sly smile spreads across your face. Ah, I see; you want to test your strength. Okay, that’s fine, I’ll just go home and wait for you to call me, crying and begging me to take you back.

They don’t call that night – well, they wouldn’t, would they, they’d be too devastated from me breaking up with them.

They don’t call the next night. You check the phone: It’s working. Something must have come up that means they can’t call. I hope they haven’t killed themselves.

The next night comes – still no call. ‘Mom! There must be something wrong with the phone. We’re not receiving incoming calls.’

‘Well, your aunty Irene called today and it was working fine then.’

So, you go to school Monday morning and there they are – smiling, laughing, going about as if you never existed. You hate them at that moment. You wished you’d never met them. How could they treat you like this – tossing you aside like an old tissue? 2 weeks, you were with them; you’d gone on walks together, hung out at the park, you even gave them half a Kit-Kat. Die, damn you! I’ve never shared a Kit-Kat with anyone before!

I guess little Carly Tevez must have been feeling like that when he was still at Man City come the start of the season. However, that is no excuse for his behaviour last night.

The man needs to remember how lucky he is. He reportedly earns £250,000 a week for kicking a ball; for doing something most people regard as fun. A quarter of a million pounds, every seven days, for playing a game. Even in my highest paid job it took me nearly four years to earn that much, and I worked sometimes 16 hour days. I can just imagine if one day I simply refused to work. I would have been sacked for gross misconduct.

I hope that doesn’t happen to Tevez, though. That would be too easy, and massively unjust on Man City, who have invested an obscene amount of money in him.

If I had my way, he would rot in the Man City reserves until his contract ran out, and then no other club would touch him with a barge-pole. Alternatively, he should be banned from the game for life.

That may sound a bit harsh, but when you consider how many people all over the world are struggling to put food on the table, and then you look at this numpty, who earns more in one week than many earn in a decade for doing a job most people can only dream of, you have to say that if he’s going to act the way he does, then he doesn’t deserve it.

So, count your blessings, Tevez, and stop spitting on the game that has been so good to you.

Oh, and if Roberto Mancini is reading this – I’ll play for you for just a couple of grand a week. I’m no good, but at least I’m cheap.

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Shane Clarke serves as London Correspondent for The Seoul Times. He has been involved in humanitarian work for numerous years. He’s also a freelance management consultant. Having completed an honors degree in Law at Wolverhampton University, he then moved on to an MBA at Warwick Business School. He’s heavily involved in the fight against international parental child abduction to Japan.






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