There is no question that Ian Holloway has missed his calling. Instead of getting into football management, he should have founded his own religious cult. The Children of the Wrong and the Useless.

He has all the qualifications. His gaze is simultaneously terrifying and mesmerising.  His voice is spellbinding, filled with a passionate anger that makes you want to keep your distance but still holds you close. That mixture of fear and attraction is augmented by his borderline insane rhetoric. As he vents his fury at the evils abounding within the world of football, you get the feeling he wants to headbutt someone. Right now. It is a physical battle to stop your feet from moving forward of their own volition.

'Olly welcomes some of the flock to Sunday worship.

His latest rant revolves around the possibility of the 2022 World Cup being played in January but also touches upon the Sam Allardyce situation and abruptly ends with his well wishes for an enjoyable holiday.

Here is a transcript of the Mad Manager’s rant:

On the ramifications of a winter World Cup:

Well obviously, they’re so important, that we’ll ‘ave to change when we play our tournament.

It’s so vital that they have our tournament, that belongs to the world –and I think I’m a world person, aren’t I? I come from Englund — so, we’ll just change everything, cuz yore wevver’s really hot. Cuz we can’t play it when we should do.

Brilliant! (the exclamatory comes with a quick, aggressive bob of the head which involuntarily draws you a step closer)

It becomes evident very quickly that, like gravy,  the more ‘Olly’s passion is stirred, the thicker his brogue becomes.  Unfortunately, there are always plenty of lumps in his reasoning.

On the complexities of changing the global fixture lists to accommodate the switch:

If it was me, heads would roll, and I know which heads it would be (It is comforting to know that when ‘Olly finally snaps, he will have specific targets in mind and it won’t just be every disciple for himself).

And I’d love to do it, to be fair.  (General laughter from the media is met with a lowered head and a stern gaze.  The laughter ceases.  The Master will let you know when he finds something funny)

Seriously.  Why don’t we let the people in charge of Blackburn tell them where to go, as well?   They seem to know how to sack people. Why don’t they sack Seff Blatter and all them lot.

Particularly Mr. Plah-tini. I knew ‘e was a good player but he ain’t very good at what he does, I don’t think. In fact, I think he’s useless (a dip of the head produces an involuntary flinch but, mercifully, no butt is forthcoming). You can quote me on that. I honestly do, I think he’s usel– ‘Ow can you do that?!

(This followed by a short pantomime of an imagined conversation between Mr. Plah-tini and Seff Blatter…)

Plah-tini in a slight falsetto(hunched over and stroking his chin in thought): Umm, why don’t we move the tournament because it’s gonna be too hot, Mr. Blatter?

Seff Blatter, in a deep tenor, faux Germanic accent: Wut?

(And now back to the rant, full speed ahead)

I mean, Come On! What’s goin’ on? Are they — Is that Serious? Are you deadly serious that we… (reporter interrupts to confirm that they are, in fact, serious and that Mr. Blatter is “seriously contemplating” a winter World Cup.)

This is perhaps my favourite element of the Ian Holloway press conference. Inevitably, he turns the table on the media. He is now asking the questions and they are supplying the information.

‘Olly: So wot ‘appens to our football, then, and everybody else’s football, that’s playin’ fer — We stop for a while, do we?

Reporter: Yeah, a six-week break. (reflective pause to insert some belated journalistic integrity) Maybe.

‘Olly: (short derisive laugh) Ohhh, genius! Absolute, magnificent, isn’t it? What ‘appened to the air-conditioned indoor arenas, then? Bit too expensive, 25 of ‘em, or wot? (pause) Don’t start me on that. (More laughter from the press at the tardiness of that statement)

This is the other important quality of the Holloway performance. As over the top or off the deep end, as inane, utterly nonsensical and illogical his rants sound, he ultimately presents a very lucid and pointed question. What did happen to those wonderful zero-carbon completely green-minded stadiums that were the one alluring aspect of the Qatari bid?

Do you think it will work? After all, "yore wevver's very hot."

Were they so much pie in the sky? Was the whole bid presentation an elaborate shell game to cover up a winter World Cup that’s been in the offing for years?

Qatar would have never won the bid had they suggested a January tournament in their presentation. Too many people would have had to sacrifice far too much money. But if presented with the suggestion after the competition has been designated, when it’s a fait accompli? As conspiracies go, it’s, to quote his ‘Olliness, “Brilliant!”

All the better that the disenfranchised and disillusioned Franz Beckenbauer, the Kaiser himself, was actually the first to publicly suggest the idea (not Mr. Plah-tini).   It creates doubt and adds credibility, at the same time.

Of course, everything could be on the up and up. If I’m willing to join a cult led by a man whose emotions are obviously held together by gossamer threads, then I’m liable to see evil lurking in the shadows on a clear, sunny day.

The whole concept  does seem to be coming together rather too quickly and conveniently, however. To quote another cult figure, the immortal Dr. Johnny Fever of WKRP in Cincinnati, “Paranoia is only good thinking when everyone is out to get you.”  Word to live by.

At any rate, after bringing matters to a head with that very thought-provoking question, ‘Olly then ushered the gathering to a quick conclusion.

Seriously, The world– it is gone crazy. I think the world has gone completely on its head…Happy Christmas!

The World has gone completely on its head and, whether he realises it or not, ‘Olly’s own mental somersaults are the perfect counterweight.

Happy Christmas!

blackburn rovers, fifa, ian holloway, island stadium, michel platini, qatar, sepp blatter