As I sat in the back of the car today, en route home from a three day bender, I overheard the news that Samuel Allardyce (otherwise known as Big Sam) would become the next manager of the English soccer team.
Immediately, I began to feel sick in my stomach, and it wasn’t just the smell of Guinness farts in the hot car that made me feel this way. It was a sickness caused by the stark realisation that today was the day England made their first step towards winning the next World Cup.
As a proud Gael and loyal Irish fan it pains me to see this incredibly astute piece of business by the FA. But as an Andy Carroll fan, I am close to wetting myself with excitement over seeing Andy link up once again with his non-biological father and role model, Big Sam.
The big talk of the summer was the absolutely abysmal performance put in by England at the European Championships. Whilst Northern Ireland , Wales and our beloved Ireland all surpassed expectations with their success in the Euros, England were sent home with their tails between their legs after being defeated by everyone’s new favourite team: Iceland.
Now I know it has been a long time since my last Andy Carroll fan article and I must apologise for that, but truth be told, I was heartbroken by seeing Andy not being selected for the England Squad. I was not in the right mental place to do anything .
(Before I proceed I do want to clarify that I have no allegiances to the English football team, nor have I ever. However, I do want to see what’s best for Big Andy. Personally, I couldn’t have been happier to see England being embarrassed. I’m absolutely delighted for them, the cowards.)
Anyway back to Andy not being selected, such was my disappointment at Hodgson’s decision to leave Carroll at home to go on holidays with his wife Billie and baby boy Arlo, I did not have the strength or motivation to write up another article on the Geordie God.
However, today’s news has provided me with the motivation to pick up my pen once again.
England were shown up for the yella bellied cowards that we all knew they are. Hodgson, the cowardly crow look alike, got it all wrong. The Tottenham brigade of Kane, Delli Alli, Dier and Rose showed their true colours, with that prep school ponce Kane being the chief architect of his team’s demise.
I firmly believe had Carroll been selected, England would have won the championship. Whilst Raheem Sterling slithered under a rock like the snake that he is when presented with the chance to prove his worth, Carroll would have taken France by storm.
So now I sit in fear of the footballing powerhouse that England are going to become when Big Sam and Big Andy come together once more, to bully their way to World Cup glory. Allardyce is a larger/lager than life character.
He fears no-one; he always stands his ground, and is a damn good manager. He is the only person left on this planet who knows how to harness the swashbuckling beauty of a fit Andy Carroll.
Daenarys Targareyn has her dragons….Big Sam has Big Andy.
People have branded Big Sam’s brand of football as outdated and one directional. Personally I see it as a thing of beauty; football in its purest, rawest, untouched form. Now with Andy at his disposal the future looks set to become dominated by a new superpower for the next ten years at least.
Big Sam thinks tiki-taka football is “A load of b*ll*cks,” and he couldn’t “give a f*ck” what Jose Mourinho thinks of him.
He dances in Marbella to Rihanna in a suit, he likes chips on his gravy, and he laughs at the rat Chico Flores.
And he will be the next manager to lift the World Cup.
Mark my words England will win the next world cup if Andy can stay fit. Personally, I think he will….. Andy’s now coming into the peak of his career.
Big Andy is now married with a child and it looks like his partying days are slowing down. Perhaps his omission for the Euros was a good thing. He managed to go on a road trip across the United States with boyhood mate Joe Peel, and going by his Instagram, he drank his fill.
The beering is over, now it’s time to focus on his football. That said, I pray Andy never changes his drinking, but perhaps limits his three day benders to once a month. Big Sam enjoys the occasional ten pints of Stella himself, but he also knows when to knuckle down.
Sam understands the power he now has at his disposal once again; in Carroll he has a weapon far more dangerous than Lionel Messi or Cristiano Ronaldo. If Suarez is a pistol then Carroll is a sawn-off shot gun, ready to wreak irreparable damage to international defences.
All he needs is Big Andy, and now after a period in the wilderness father and son are reunited. We may get use to the sound of “football is coming home.”
England will win the next world cup, mark my words!