Here's an old joke: Brendan Rodgers has decided not to join Twitter as he feels that there are not enough characters.
Bar the odd freak - Wenger, Ferguson - managers in football are currently caught in a three-year cycle, and when flaws are exposed as the employment arc draws to its end, managers often become parodies of themselves, repeating the same words ad nauseum as if they are consciously adding grist to the mem-making mills online.
When things fell apart at Liverpool following the sale of Luis Suarez and time's demolition of Steven Gerrard, Rodgers sounded like a totally delusional man, consistently preaching the necessity of character over and over again in the face of yet another defeat.
Liverpool's ludicrous transfer committee evidently misread Rodgers' desires, and rather than bring him character, they brought him a character.
The arrival of Mario Balotelli heralded the end for Rodgers - and while the young manager made plenty of errors himself - Liverpool did the equivalent of bringing Rodgers a table instead of the lamp he wanted.
Balo just had what looked like a can of Red Bull in the warm up
— James Horncastle (@JamesHorncastle) April 9, 2016
To describe Balotelli as languid is a crass understatement, but then it was not just Balotelli's attitude at Liverpool that cost him. He was no good. Balotelli has carved out a reputation for himself as a kind of wild maverick, trying to paint himself as a talented man who just refuses to grow up, that he could be brilliant at this football lark if only he could bother giving it his full attention.
The fact is that Balotelli is just not very good: sure he can larrup a shot into the top corner from 40 yards every now and again, but for every one that goes in, ten test the safety of spectators and the patience of teammates. We feel that Brendan Rodgers and Liverpool fans would have forgiven him lighting fireworks in his bathroom had he scored more than one Premier League goal.
In fact, rather than his football losing out from his off the field antics, it has benefitted: it has portrayed the cult figure of a precociously talented but flawed maverick, when the reality is that he is a flawed man with nothing more than a reasonable talent for football. Precocious he is not. His career is a perverse pantomime: he highlights everything that is going on backstage to obscure what is actually happening on the stage.
This was evident again in AC Milan's defeat against Juventus last night. Juve came from a goal behind to win at the San Siro, in a game that Balotelli surprisingly started and that Milan played reasonably well in. Balotelli, however, strode around contributing little, and his most telling intervention was this display of rank stupidity:
Balotelli's career has been one of brilliant character development. Not as a player, but a character. Balotelli will leave Milan in the summer, Jurgen Klopp will turn his back on him, and Balotelli will end up in China making millions every year, being of no relevance other than the odd amusing headline about some infantile act.
He will end up playing football in obscurity. Up to now, he has carved out a decent career through the very act of obscuring.
