A new year is a time for new beginnings.
That inevitably includes your standard resolutions – eat better, drink less, laugh at Man United more – which we will all mostly fail on after a couple of weeks. Hey, we’re only human.
But it’s not just us mere mortals who make these commitments; football managers do as well.
And, just as we waved goodbye to 2017, we managed to sneak a peek at all 20 Premier League managers’ personal diaries. Suffice to say, they revealed some remarkable insights into their hopes and aspirations for the new year.
In a Paddy Power News exclusive, we bring you the top flight’s gaffers’ new year’s resolutions…
The last few months of 2017 was all well and good, what with winning most games by three or four goals, but that’s not good enough. I want to make sure we actually win with real style – by six or seven goals in every game – and wrap up every trophy going. Once that’s done, I’ll have completed football, freeing me up for my real calling in life: becoming a catalogue model for Stone Island, because I look f*cking hard in it.
After it transpired Diego Costa needed more than just telling he needed to piss off out of Chelsea on WhatsApp, this will be the year I get rid of a random player much more efficiently in the summer. A barbershop quartet singing “Get out of our club!” delivered to Willian’s front door should just about do it.
It’s simple. Enter and win the lottery every week to give me half a chance of competing with the likes of Burnley, Southampton and Leicester – never mind Man City. Do people think £300m is enough for me to challenge? It makes me sick. What’s the game coming to when I only have £300m to buy new players with?
HA HA HA! NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS! HA HA HA! MAYBE DEFEND BETTER, JA?! HA HA HA! BOOM BOOM!
No excuses this year: I must absolutely find out once and for all if it’s legal to keep an electronic tag on Harry Kane to stop him from leaving the country without my approval. Real Madrid can piss right off if they think they’re coming anywhere near him.
Well, you know, a new year is a new start for little bit consistency, you know. I must work out how to label Santi Cazorla’s return as like a new signing, especially when Ozil and Sanchez go. I’ll announce that on my new channel, Arsene Wenger TV, and shut that little merde DT up once and for all.
Surely this is the year I find a cure for my sore throat. They put man on the moon almost 50 years ago, yet they’re still telling me they can’t produce an extra strong Strepsil to see to this? F*ck me. It’s a disgrace if you ask me.
Come on, Claude: this is the year I become remotely relevant. Sure, I’ve had a season with Southampton and now it’s going OK at Leicester, but does anyone really know who I am? I’ll ask Jamie’s wife about getting on I’m A Celebrity next time I see her in the players’ bar.
Keep it simple in 2018. You know Big Sam only needs two things: more bastard slipper/shoe hybrids and a massive payout after leaving Everton in the summer to finally get that extension sorted to the gaff in Alicante. Magic.
Get the hell out of Watford in the politest possible way. I need to get that Everton job this year – just look how much money I would get to spend; it’s a perfect step up as part of my “new Mourinho” career path. But how can I get Big Sam out? I’ll make sure to schedule a boozy lunch with my accountant, he’s good with those…
HA HA HA! NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS! HA HA HA! MAYBE KEEP MY IMPRESSION OF JURGEN KLOPP GOING EVEN LONGER! HA HA HA! BOOM BOOM!
Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle. Finish above Newcastle.
Get a job as quickly as possible after Southampton inevitably sack me in May. No pressure, Mauricio…
Keep being Eddie Howe. You can do it, Eddie. Stay softly spoken, smiley and happy and patiently keep waiting for a job with one of the big boys. If I can get at least one half decent performance out of Jordon Ibe as well, that’d be a lovely bonus in 2018. Great stuff, come on Eddie, this is our year.
Still be in a job on 2nd January. Then still be in a job on 3rd January. Then still be in a job on 4th January. But, I know my time could be limited, so I just want to ensure I’m even more of a whiney little sh*tbag on the sidelines whenever we lose. I can do this. Just believe.
Continue to deal in facts, and facts only. I also wish to commit myself to nicking Mike Ashley’s cheque book so I can actually enjoy this January transfer window before he buggers off.
Regardless of what happens this season, the only thing I want to be sure of this year is a pre-season game against the Iceland national team. Redemption will come in the form of big James McArthur sticking one past that smug lot. Oh, and hire someone in to teach this lot how to take a f*cking penalty properly.
2018 is the year I keep rebuilding my reputation. If I play my cards right here at West Ham and keep this shower in the Premier League, I fancy Man United could come calling in the summer once Jose does one. Also: keep up those Spanish language lessons. You never know, I hear Real Madrid may be looking for a new boss soon too…
This will be the year I make my name among the managerial elite in England. And I shall do that not just by keeping Swansea in the Premier League, but also stamping by authority and making Wilfried Bony change just squad number from No.2 to something more appropriate for a striker, Who does this clown think he is?!
It’s been a while since I’ve had a good old fashioned touchline incident so I want to make sure I stoke that fire this year. I’m not bothered whether it’s shoving a player or pretending to throw money at Mourinho and calling him a “deluded old c*nt” when we play them in April. Just get me on that back page. So long as they use a picture of me looking sophisticated in my cool new glasses, I don’t care.