*Dear Dychey is Paddy Power’s Agony Aunt column is not written by anyone who could could even pass for a current Premier League manager. Any apparent resemblance to one is purely coincidental.
Dr Dychey (Definitely Not Sean Dyche), get your nose out of “49 Habits of Extremely Successful Though Annoying A*seholes” and give us your simple, unvarnished soliloquies of sound reasoning and sternly-presented succour for the sport’s suffering souls…
I am confused. Things have not been going well – I’m sure you can understand what that feels like – but I turned up for work this morning and there is someone sitting in my chair, in my office, talking on my phone and eating my continental breakfast.
Something isn’t right.
They’ve said to me I’m on “gardening leave” and I don’t have to work. What garden? Around this part of London you’re lucky if you get a window box on a thirteenth-floor balcony property is so expensive.
The only plant I see is Battersea power station from my window.
What am I supposed to do all day? What is going on? What should I do?
Jokan Handle No More
Dr Dychey: Jokan, there’s no point joking around on this one, you’ve been given your marching papers and the sooner you get used to it, the better.
Yes, it’s tough to take at the start, but the sooner you adjust to the new reality. The sooner you can start making plans for the future – you might even find yourself a patch of pure, shrubbery serenity rather than the elevated 21-square-foot enclave you’re currently stuck in.
Look at me, for example. So prepared am I for the inevitable sack, I’ve already diversified my personal brand into health supplements, self-help books, advice columns and a suite of therapeutic treatments provided at a chain of clinics throughout the country.
Which brings me to what you should do now.
I can tell just from your message the kind of pressure you’re feeling. It’s time to relax.
Why not treat yourself to some of the latest spiritual wellness therapies available in your clearly high-end, salubrious surroundings.
I’ve found that a snail facial works wonder for both my reddened complexion and any irritation that’s burrowed its way into my psyche.
Or if you’re too squeamish for slimy critters on your face, what about an old reliable. A colonic irrigation, performed with Dr Dychey’s approved, 100% natural combination of oils and spices, is just the tonic for those feeling rundown. Between you and me, Sam Allardyce’s recent burst of vocal punditry contributions can almost be entirely attributed the effects of this procedure.
It really gets things flowing, y’know?