Phil Brown. Enigma. Samaritan. Centre Circle Botherer. Twat. He’s not exactly the most popular bloke in football, but, in a similar vein to the recent article on Craig Bellamy, the Halftime Whistle misses Phil Brown. Compared to the bland drawl from the likes of Mark Hughes, Steve Bruce, Sam Allardyce and Tony Pulis (HTW remembers that Pulis tried to nut Dave Kitson with only a towel draped around him and instantly crosses him off the list of bland managers), Brown was a breath of fresh air.
When he wasn’t imagining spitting incidents and forgetting handshakes, he was god-awfully singing karaoke, wearing Britney Spears-style headsets (not at the same time as the karaoke, sadly), sporting goatees the likes of which should be illegal and rescuing suicidal women from bridges. Although the last one was bollocks. Probably.
Bollocking players in the centre circle, complaining about Fabregas’ clothes (oh the irony) when entering the field of play after a match with Arsenal dressed in his civvies, and appearing on the edge of nervous breakdown/coming out with every Premier League game he managed. No denying it, the man was entertaining.
It was with glee, therefore, that the HTW noted his appearance on Goals on Sunday last, erm, Sunday. Sat next to Gary “Livin’ La Vida Loca” Megson he startled viewers with his choice of shirt. Chest hair poking through his ever perma-tanned chest, he looked like a 1970s TV show drug carrier. Truly frightening stuff.
How does this compare to previous appearances? Let’s not forget the horror show on his last appearance on Goals on Sunday, which fucked up the hue and saturation on my £500 TV set. Yeah, thanks a lot Phil.
Ignore the disturbing skin tone for a second. Wtf is that draped around his shoulders? Is that a salmon sweater? Christ, either wear it or don’t wear it Phil. Unless you’re going the whole hog and leaving a pair of socks tucked into your belt just in case it gets cold, either put the jumper on properly or leave it at home.
Hailed as a tactical genius for about three months of his Premier League career, before descending to an object of scorn for the rest of his tenure, Phil Brown will be remembered for dodgy goatees, horrific singing, and hanging over the precipice of madness.
We look forward to Phil Brown’s next job in management.