“(Joe Kinnear) can’t have thought that managing Newcastle for a brief period at a time of crisis when the fans are demanding either Christ, Shearer or Keegan would be the footballing equivalent of a Chas & Dave record; surely he must’ve expected scrutiny and pressure?” asks Russell Brand in Saturday’s Guardian. The veteran manager’s explosive press conference Thursday would’ve made Lee Elia blush, and in Brand’s estimation, began with such a profound expression of ill-will, “only a lapdance, a firework or a spontaneous romance could’ve rescued the situation.”
The raw humanity of the cussing is what makes it interesting, Joe has truly stripped all subterfuge and mystery from communication – his press conference breakdown has exposed the tension at the heart of the relationship between the press and those who they write about. Naturally I shall be cautious as the incident has revealed Kinnear to be deeply confrontational and suggests he may be litigious – also I’ve had personal experience of media acrimony and know that it can be bloody annoying when the press coat you off, or misrepresent you or simply don’t like you – but judging from the transcripts the journalists present were perfectly reasonable, unless their measured contributions were delivered in mocking, sarcastic voices…
Journalist Have you read the copy? It doesn’t say the players won’t turn up.
JK You’re a cunt … also you’re doing a cruel “mong” voice. Pack it in.
I identify with the craving to lash out at journalists, though. Just yesterday some snooty prig was straining out weak humour in a telephone interview I’d agreed to and I thought, ‘Why am I tolerating this when I could simply find out their place of residence and dash out their brain with an onyx lamp?’ But that would achieve nothing.
Kinnear’s authenticity in this instance is comparable to Kevin Keegan’s famous “I’d love it” moment where he, brimming with passion and indignation, allowed Alex Ferguson to psychologically topple his side from the Premiership summit. But this occurred at a time when he was already treasured; Kinnear only turned up a week ago. It’s like finding out that, against your wishes, a lodger is moving in, then learning on the first night that he’s a flatulent drunk who won’t let anyone else use the remote control.