[Humour] Excerpts from the Secret Diary of Jose Mourinho
25 December 2015 Merry Christmas to me and everyone else, except for Chelsea Football Club. I am the best in the world and since I have plenty of time on my hands now, I have decided to start writing a diary on Christmas Eve.
And since I am Jose Mourinho, the Special One, 25th December shall, from now on, no longer be known as Christmas, it should be known as Diary Day.
This is the first time in many years that I am celebrating Christmas as a free agent. Am I sad? Nope. I am in my hometown in Portugal celebrating with my family and not Cesc Fabregas. Just imagine celebrating Christmas with a backstabber.
Since I have a lot of spare time now, I have realized how old my kids have grown. All these years, I was gracing the top clubs with my Godly presence and didn’t realize that the childhood of my children is gone. Another sad epiphany is how different my kids are from me. They are so apologetic, but after spending considerable amount of time with them, they are learning. They now blame everyone but themselves when anything goes wrong.
Many clubs have approached me since I left Chelsea. And by many, I mean many top clubs. Florentino Perez texted me of his interest the moment he heard the news that I was unemployed. Well, it was only obvious – who hires a fat Spanish waiter to manage a club like Real Madrid and doesn’t live to regret it later?
The Fat One (yes, I call him that) followed my footsteps to Inter, but completely destroyed the team that won the Champions League the previous season. He then once again followed my tracks by joining Chelsea where he won the Mickey Mouse second-division of the Champions League, Europa League.
And now he once again follows me joining Real. It seems as though he has made it his life’s mission to destroy the teams that I created.
26 December 2015 Boxing Day! Today, for the first time in a long while, I will enjoy the day by just watching this Indian sport named Kabbadi. You thought I would watch the Premier League? Pfft. The EPL isn’t worth watching without me being in it.
I will keep it short today as I have to check up with Ed Woodward about whether he plans to sack Van Gaal or not if they lose to Stoke tonight.
27 December 2015 Ha! Chelsea drew at home! And they said I was a bad manager. I mean, who drops points against Watford at home? It is a disgrace. If it weren’t for my signing Diego Costa, Chelsea would have totally lost. And Oscar missed a penalty; guess who the manager to sign him was? Hint: not me.
BRB. Got to check my phone for any messages from Ed Woodward.
29 December 2015 I just heard the news of Pep Guardiola not renewing his contract with Bayern Munich. Now I am someone who believes that I have no equal – I am head and shoulders above the rest. But not everyone has an IQ like mine and hence differ in opinion in this regard.
I don’t see Pep as my competitor; he is inferior to me. But it seems like the news just loves to link him with Manchester United – and this is something that worries me.
Apparently, I am unstable and only best for the short-term according to them and hence Woodward prefers Guardiola over me. Bollocks. If my time at Chelsea and Real Madrid are of any reference, then it only proves my ability as a manager in the long run.
BRB. Calling Woodward right now.
30 December 2015 I couldn’t sleep a wink last night. Woodward didn’t pick any of my calls and neither returned them. Well, Jose Mourinho doesn’t need to succumb to sleep in order to be ready for a new day anyway, but the fact is I couldn’t sleep.
The feeling of losing something you want so much right in front of you and being able to do absolutely nothing about is perhaps the worst feeling ever.
Meanwhile, Sheikh something of PSG called in an attempt to lure me to the club. He offered me €50 million a year, a 3-storied bungalow with 25 rooms, 3 sports cars, the stadium to be named after me, a statue of me in front of the stadium and a transfer kitty of €500 million.
Tempting offer, but not good enough. The transfer kitty is a tad too small.
31 December 2015 Can’t believe how this year flew by so fast. It feels like only yesterday when I was being thrown up in the air by Chelsea players after the conclusion of the club’s greatest ever season. And now, here I am, sitting unemployed after being betrayed by the very people I made worthy of being called footballers.
With 2016 a few hours away, I have made a resolution: I shall no longer wait by the phone in expectation of a call from Ed Woodward. Manchester United don’t deserve a genius like me. They deserve jugheads like Pep and Van Gaal.
I would rather manage Manchester City and prove to Manuel Pellegrini once again that he just knows how to make a good team play like crap; like he did with Real.
BRB, Woodward’s calling me...
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not to be taken seriously