You don’t have to know what you’re doing. Forget that UEFA Pro Licence or even that World Cup winners medal, they count for nothing with the owner.
Roman knows best whatever your standing in the game. It’s his team, not yours, and you’re there to do his bidding. No pressure then, because you can’t do right for doing wrong. You’re just a highly paid figure head, a scapegoat-in-waiting who, at the risk of mixing metaphors, serves merely as a calf to be fattened before being sent like a lamb to the slaughter the moment Roman’s recipe for success goes sour.
How liberating is that? You have no accountability. No-one’s going to think any worse of you when things don’t work out because you weren’t in control of your own destiny anyway, and the whole of football knows it.