Jose Mourinho remains a mix of light entertainment and dark arts. He’s back on the naughty step again, back on the back pages again, causing mayhem in many eyes and merriment in a few. Although it is certainly true that the media willingly embraces and promotes the Mourinho show, there is no doubt of his own need to be the centre of attention.
The visit of Mourinho’s former club, Manchester United, to Istanbul last night should really have been about whether Erik ten Hag would survive in the hot-seat. It descended into a story about Mourinho forced to leave his seat in the Fenerbahce dug-out, banished to the stands for language towards officials. Even his explosive TNT interview after the 1-1 draw with United was laced with sarcasm.
But who is he? Who is the real Mourinho? Calculating or unaffected? Is he the Manchester United martinet who upset Luke Shaw with critical comments or the masterful man-manager who inspired Michael Carrick the day after the midfielder retired by sending him an effusive early-morning text telling him to report back to Carrington to assist coaching? Have his antics simply become wearisome? Box office or busted flush? For a polyglot whose “I prefer not to speak” is a classic meme there are few who talk better. He’s still a walking, talking headline-factory.