Ah, another manager stepping into Stamford Bridge like a man checking his wife's phone—trying to find what the last fellow missed. I see these lads come and go, same as the seasons changing in the pine grove. Roko asked me yesterday, "Baba, why do they keep swapping the coach but not the leaky roof?" Smart boy, that one. Reminds me of my sewing needle—if the hide is poor, no amount of fancy stitching will hold it together. The academy lads? They're like the good leather I can no longer afford—plenty of it in the backyard, but the big buyers take it all before we can work it.