* Dear Dychey, Paddy Power’s Agony Uncle column is not written by anyone who could even pass for a current Premier League manager. Any apparent resemblance to one is purely coincidental.
If your sporting chakras are out of sync, Dr Dychey (Definitely Not Sean Dyche, we promise) could provide the guidance to the righteous, and winning, path.
I’ve been in my current job a few years and it feels like I’ve taken things as far as I can, but my contract is one sweet deal, so I’m just waiting for my boss to offer a satisfactory severance package.
We’re doing terribly, morale is at an all-time low, I’ve already had my lieutenant alienate several key members of the team, and yet the gormless dopes in charge still haven’t done the decent thing and sacked me!
What more can I do to speed things up?
Yours waiting on a phone call,
Dr Dychey: It sounds like you’re on the right track here. Assuming you’ve got any decent underlings worth losing, I’d throw a few more insults around. Cast doubts on their loyalty to your team, maybe stuff about their folks, where they’re from, their piddling careers, try to alienate as many of your staff as possible. Eventually they’ll get the message and leave.
The crucial thing is that this will damage the bottom line too – I recently completed a Higher National Certificate in Business Management just to keep my options open – and the one thing that every boss understands is profit and loss.
This applies just as much in football as any other field. Our first run in the Premier League I knew we were going down by November, the only lad we signed for cash that summer was Ashley Barnes for chuff’s sake, but the books had to be balanced, and we’re better off now.
If people stop buying what you’re selling it’ll eventually get through to the powers that be, so do as much to p*ss off your customers as possible. For example, I saw that Martin O’Neill is playing Cyrus Christie in midfield for Ireland. That’s the kind of innovative thinking that’ll really get bums off seats and out the door – including your own with any luck.
For most of the last twelve years I have appeared to be ‘smarter than the average boss’. In fact I got my paws on the biggest pic-a-nic basket of them all in 2014, but recently there have been a lot of boo-boos and the park ranger could have his tranquiliser darts aimed for my backside now I feel.
Plenty are starting to sniff around my job too, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve passed my sell-by date.
How do you disperse the stench of defeat and come out smelling of roses on the other side?
Dychey: First thing’s first, you’re not a cartoon bear, never have been, never will be, and there’s no darts aimed for your behind, furry or otherwise. You need to get that negative nonsense out of your head before we address your stinking form.
Sometimes you need a reality check – a scratch-and-sniff test, if you will – just be careful with the claws.
That’s what these foul few months have been for you Yogi, a chance to see if what you’re doing and who you’re working with still passes the smell test.
I’d recommend opening your mind to new ideas, people and approaches.
Think outside the box a bit more – just not so far outside it you’re hitting the proverbial corner flag.
And for any odour issues, I can only recommend the soothing scent of natural lavender oil. Just a sprinkle of it around the office and changing room perks up even the surliest Phil Bardsley or Jonny Walters I find.
I’m the biggest fish in a very small pond – well, 25m swimming pool with hot-tub, sauna and juice bar adjacent – but I think my bosses don’t really appreciate quite what I bring to the business, and they’ve got me working in a p*ss-soaked hellhole they call a “leisure centre” this week.
How do I get the respect I deserve?
Sincerely, trying to win the iPhone in the lobby claw machine,
Dychey: Absence makes the heart grow fonder Ronnie. While the amenities available in your current surrounds may suffice for your bosses’ purposes, there are better, even more anodyne, dehumanised non-places out there.
Some Travelodges have vending machines in their foyers with snacks that aren’t all chocolate and crisps now, for instance.
If you want respect from others, you first have to respect yourself.
Forget about tiptoeing around puddles of human waste and strike out for yourself. If you’re as good as you think, the bosses will be back soon enough.
It’s how I twisted the arm of the board here into signing Joe Hart – I know we already had two solid, gritty, honest English keepers who’ll man up whenever they make a mistake already, but I said you can never have too many, and if you won’t go and get him, I’m walking.
The drum break of “In the Air Tonight” had barely kicked in on the car stereo before the chairman was on the phone begging me to stay.
Value yourself and others will value you.