Sack the manager
I consider myself a rational person who denies the existence of any kind of God/higher power/Flying Spaghetti Monster etc who might be controlling my insignificant little life. However, every so often little things occur that feel like nothing so much as the universe having a right old chuckle at my expense. It's my own fault really. At the beginning of 2009, one of my resolutions was not to play Football Manager on my PC. If your reaction to this is a hearty scoff, all I can say is you've obviously never played the damn thing. As Danny Baker might put it (get well soon, Candyman) - I am an addict, FM is my crack and my lips are welded to the pipe. Despite this, I managed to make good on my promise right up till December 31st. Then that night, which I spent in my flat with nought but a bottle of wine, my 2009 iPod playlist and Jools Holland and his Hootenanny for company, I succumbed again, firing up the game and starting a new managerial career that lasted all the way until ...