This won’t come as a surprise to any keen followers of football, or indeed anyone who has even heard of football, but Jose Mourinho is unhappy.
In fact, that’s an understatement – right now he seems to be downright miserable, a man lost, drifting on an ocean of misery on a raft of his own making. That ocean of which I speak? Why it’s composed of his Jose’s own tears. Probably.
Just what is it that’s causing his existential pain though? He’s been grumbling about his transfer market frustration again, but there has to be more to it than that.
I’ve tried to get inside his head and work out the ingredients of Mourinho’s minging mood…
He’s pining for Rui Faria
Faria had been by Jose’s side for over 15 years right through until the end of last season, when he sensationally quit Old Trafford.
At the time he was linked with a whole host of high-flying management jobs, including the vacant Arsenal post, and everyone assumed that was the reason for his departure.
But oh no, what’s this? He still seems to be unemployed. Is Jose fuming and seething because he feels as though he’s been tricked?
Is he now friendless? Take it from me, not having any mates can really affect your state of mind.
He hates football
Remember when Jose arrived at Stamford Bridge back in 2004? Charismatic, funny and smart-talking, we all had a massive man-crush on him.
But slowly that has all been eroded away and we are left to pity the broken shell of a man that stands before us, pleading for yet another centre half.
Perhaps he’s grown to hate football? Think about it – only one man on the planet has been forced to endure every turgid match played by all the Mourinho teams over the years, and that’s Jose himself.
Wouldn’t YOU be beside yourself with misery?
He’s sick of living in a hotel
I myself spend a lot of time in budget hotels for work purposes and I imagine that Mourinho’s gripes are similar to my own.
The air conditioning is always either making the room too hot or too cold, there’s never enough of those little pots of UHT milk, and you move the bed for reasons that you don’t feel comfortable revealing here and there’s a stain under it that could be blood, but might just be gravy.
It’s not unfair to make the Alan Partridge comparison and we could be just days away from Jose driving to Dundee in his bare feet. Is there a management vacancy in the Scottish city?
Some weird laundry basket stuff
Remember the laundry basket?
Back in 2005, Jose had fallen foul of a stadium ban for a Champions League quarter final against Bayern Munich, but it was alleged that he’d been wheeled into the Chelsea dressing room before kick off and again at half time, before being wheeled out to a nearby leisure centre where it was claimed he’d been spending the entire evening.
All rumour and conjecture, obviously, but I’m choosing to believe that its true and that it was the start of some kind of compulsive behaviour that has continued since. The hotel life?
Let’s assume that Jose has been sneaking down to the laundry room and curling up in a basket for his shut-eye every night.
But he’s been found out and barred and is now back in a conventional bed and getting NO SLEEP whatsoever. Hence his crotchety mood.
Makes complete sense when you think about it.