jw wrote:
evilC wrote:
Only he's probably convinced by now that the painting is managing the team, and not him.
Somewhere in a dusty attic there is a league table where Liverpool are 12 points clear. Or something.
Maybe it's the painting that is cursed? Perhaps, at midnight, the evil Brendan Rodgers steps out of the painting, gets on the Harley and rides to the training ground. Here, he makes phonecalls to all the semi-injured players demanding that they meet him there for a special nighttime training session in 20 minutes time (or whenever they get out of the club - whichever is sooner). Then he puts them through heavy sprinting and jumping drills until their hamstrings and knee joints are all well and truly re-tweaked.
Job done, he re-mounts the Harley, roars back to Casa Bren and slides back into the painting, with a tiny bit more of a gleam in those otherwise cold, lifeless eyes.