Is The Scottish Dialect Ruining English Football?

After listening to SAF terrify the press again today it reminded me of an ongoing spirited discussion with my Scottish mate Bob.
Me. "Scotland are crap"
Him. " Well, with so many Scottish managers in the English leagues what does that make you?"
And so I developed the following theory.
Is it purely an aggressive authoritarian accent and not some superior tactical nouse from North of the border that gets most of these Scotsmen jobs in management.
It reminds of a little Glaswegian I used to work with that ran the warehouse, he used to terrify the shop floor girls whenever he spoke.
The same gruff voices can be heard throughout football but never do you hear "get stuck in lad" or "get down that wing son" shouted in some effete Etonian type dialect.
Do Scot's have superior managerial skills? Is there some kind of Scottish total fitba philosophy?
Absolutely not.
In fact they come from largely the same background as their English counterparts, from a country that is woefully short of good players and teams, so why the disproportionate numbers in coaching?
Is it the illusion of some sergeant major type sounding like they know what they are doing and if you don't listen you might get a slap?
Could it be some insurgent plot to bring English football down to their standards?
In order to counteract this invasion of mediocre imposters* I suggest the FA coaching school develop there own loud brash coaches with homegrown accents.
The Geordie - More Brian Johnson from AC/DC than Alan Shearer.
The Northerner - More David Seamen than Compo.
The Cockney - More Ray Winstone than Rodney Trotter.
Certainly something to think about after complaints about a lack of English coaches.

*exemptions given to Sir Alex, Shankly, Dean, Dalglish, Moyes, Coyle.....oh crap

In jest.....kinda.

onederer.

Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait

Thanks to my brother, Lewis, I finally had the opportunity to view the movie "Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait". (It had been on my Netflix Saved DVDs list for over 3 years, but I digress...) As mainstream entertainment, the movie falls spectacularly short. It illustrates that even watching the greatest player of his generation -- and, arguably, the best ever -- without the context of his teammates and the action around him, and without the significance of the match itself is not riveting movie-making. That is not to say that I did not find it fascinating in other respects. For example, by pointing 17 cameras at one player, even Zizou, the film-makers underscore the oft-quoted observation that a football player spends upwards of 87 of the game's 90 minutes without the ball. That time is spent sprinting without reward, jogging, or merely strolling "le carré vert". The movie -- unlike the ubiquitous YouTube skills compilations -- is almost entirely devoid of Zidane's extravagant skills, save for one flourish that leads to a Real Madrid goal. This point illustrates the nature of the team in the sport: the best individuals can be easily stifled without an able and willing supporting cast. Also, like the movie itself, the soundtrack from Mogwai (a Scottish band, of all things) is hauntingly understated and wonderfully complements the filming. If it was some other sport or even some other player, I'm quite sure I would not have made it through to the end. But I'm really glad I did.