Liverpool have decided that two seasons is simply too long a tenure for a modern manager, promptly binning Arne Slot to chase the Brighton bounce with Andoni Iraola—because nothing says 'ambition' quite like hiring the guy who keeps the mid-table honest. Elsewhere, Raheem Sterling apparently mistook a motorway barrier for a passing option, adding 'alleged drug-driving' to a season that was already parked in reverse. It was a weekend where rugby reigned supreme; while the Stormers and Bulls battered their way to glory and Northampton served up an eleven-try thriller, Scottish football quietly reminded us that even friendlies against Curacao can stir the pot. Frankly, the only thing more chaotic than the Premier League sacking season is the traffic report.
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
đź“ś Lyrics đź“ś
[Verse 1]
The banner hangs above the Anfield road
proclaiming legends in the afternoon sun
But patience wears thinner than the squad depth goes
And two short seasons count for absolutely nothing
They've sharpened axes where the scarf displays hung
Professor Slot has lost his lecture room
And McNulty writes the epitaph for us
A fall from grace that really had no tomb
[Pre-Chorus]
The pragmatism poisons every well
There is no story that the spin won't sell
[Chorus]
Only the statues last forever
While managers are chewed and spat away
Bronze men upon their pedestals
Watching mortals crumble in the clay
Oh, loyalty's a concept for the terrace songs
That nobody believes anymore
Just ask the latest ghost
Walking out the door
[Verse 2]
Down on the motorway the barriers weep
A winger's charged with something more than pace
The chemist's counsel that he couldn't keep
Has written failure on a public face
While Northampton are dancing through eleven tries
And Stormers crush the dreams of Cardiff town
The rugby men are playing for their lives
But football eats its own and drags them down
[Bridge]
Shankland's booking flights to distant World Cups
While Steve Clarke counts his headaches with a smile
But up at Anfield there's a different cup
The poisoned chalice in the manager's file
Iraola waits beside his telephone
The Bournemouth gaffer hears his number called
Another victim for the Anfield throne
Another name to be professionally installed
[Guitar Solo]
[Chorus]
Only the statues last forever
While managers are chewed and spat away
Bronze men upon their pedestals
Watching mortals crumble in the clay
Oh, loyalty's a concept for the terrace songs
That nobody believes anymore
Just ask the latest ghost
Walking out the door
[Outro]
Just ask the latest ghost
Walking out the door
Only the statues last
Only the statues last
Forever