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All the League’s a stage,
And all the football managers, like players,
Have their exits and their entrances,
So one man in his time plays many parts.
At first, the Special One, the Saviour
Embracing his Captain
Shielding his team from the media
Guiding them to victory
Basking in the Sun.
Next the fighter,
Full of strange oaths and abrasive morning stubble,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Blaming the fourth official, or the assistant referee.
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Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness
Like a whining schoolboy,
Creeping unwillingly to the interview
Sans points, sans club, sans everything.