Jose Mourinho's Cool 1963-2007

The football world has, for one day, abandoned its ridiculous pay demands, nightclub punch-ups and three-in-a-bed after-hours entertainments to mourn the passing of Jose Mourinho’s Cool, that air of tanned European style, tactical flair and a self-confidence that lesser mortals interpreted as arrogance, which in recent weeks has slipped away to be replaced by a grizzled figure in a tracksuit, much given to ridiculous declarations about opposing teams and claims that Mr Mourinho’s pet Yorkshire terrier, Gullit, was a better finisher than Shevchenko.

From the moment of its birth in Portugal in 1963, Jose Mourinho’s Cool was evident to all, as it held its first press conference (in both Portuguese and English) casually acknowledging the skill of the midwife, protesting at the failure of the referee to book the attending doctor for an obvious slap and, chiefly, praising Mourinho's skill in choosing to be born.

After a childhood of dismissing inferior teachers with a snappy putdown and enlarging upon the magnificence of Mourinho's innate talent, The Cool saw its charge gain a degree in Physical Education without breaking a sweat, or even once shouting at other students that they’d have to do the class in their pants.

Too assured of itself to need to chase a ball up and down the park for 90 minutes, Jose Mourinho’s Cool contented itself with hanging around the stands delivering withering looks to opposition players or admiring itself lovingly in the changing room mirror at half-time, whilst pointing out the manager’s tactical mistakes.

Word of The Cool began to spread, in no small part thanks to Jose Mourinho himself taking every opportunity to remind all and sundry of his superior intelligence, fashion sense and god-like footballing nous. Catching the eye of a desperately unfashionable Bobby Robson, languishing in purgatory in Portugal following England’s comically inept penalty shoot-out in the 1990 World Cup semi-final, The Cool accepted the offer to act as Robson’s interpreter at Sporting Lisbon, Porto FC and at FC Barcelona – where it learned Catalan overnight whilst redesigning Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia to make it more “tasteful” and playing an eight-hour sax solo with Miles Davis.

The Cool's self-confidence and personal magnetism drew players to Mourinho, as they sought alternatives to Robson’s tactical advice to “just hoof it up the field for the big lad to knock it in the back of the net”, alternatives which The Cool was able to provide by offering tips on dead-ball situations, physical fitness advice and clear directions as to where to get a really first-class suit.

It wasn’t long before a stammering and awed Benfica sidled up to The Cool and tugged on its four-button sleeve, shyly asking if Mourinho wouldn’t mind managing their team. Leading them only long enough to realise they were far too lacking in charisma or savoir faire for Mourinho to be their chief, after just nine games The Cool grew bored, shrugged nonchalantly and walked away – clicking its fingers at an adoring Uniao de Leiria who eagerly accepted his kind offer to turn them into a well-groomed outfit – and teach them something about football. A stint at FC Porto, where The Cool won the 2003 Super Liga all by itself after dismissing the team for turning out on the pitch with too much product in their hair, and a triumphant 2004 UEFA Cup final in which it easily outclassed Celtic by mocking their oh-so-last-season shorts and boots, led, ultimately to The Cool’s greatest role.

In 2004, Jose Mourinho’s Cool announced itself to a hushed and adoring world of English football as “The Special One”, immediately eclipsing third-rate purveyors of Hello! magazine ersatz cool like David Beckham. Over the next three years Roman Abramovich’s money The Cool’s superior footballing skills and know-how propelled its new club, Chelsea, to trophy after trophy. Yet worrying signs of stress were already beginning to show, with The Cool occasionally melting in heated verbal assaults attacking referees and fellow managers alike. With year after year passing and failure after failure to win The European Cup, questions began to be asked ... chiefly questions from Roman Abramovich like "Oi, Jose! What is happen to my billions of roubles?" Under greater and greater pressure from club board and fans alike, Jose Mourinho's Cool began to falter, its image tarnished as it battled on in the face of the disastrous decision to buy Andriy Shevchenko, Frank Lampard’s ever-greater delusions of midfield mastery and John Terry's "Village Idiot at Milletts" sense of style.

According to reports from eye-witnesses, The Cool passed away when animal welfare officers called at Jose Mourinho's Belgravia home to put his Yorkshire terrier, Gullit, into quarantine, leaving the once-adored manager to shout “No, please don’t take my lickle-wickle Gullit away!" while stamping on his pipe with his Marks & Sparks slippers and sobbing uncontrollably into the sleeve of his beige Primark cardigan.

Jose Mourinho’s Cool will be buried at the new Wembley Stadium. It is survived by Jose Mourinho’s new range of polyester cardigans and slacks with elasticated waists and Jose Mourinho Dog Biscuits – “For Your Special One”.