It’s that time again, where we join in the #banter—some of us through gritted teeth—involving helicopters and fax machines, Jim White talking and grown men walking past on-the-scene reporters, dildos in hand.
Yes, it’s Transfer Deadline Day.
Of course no TDD would be complete without constant reminders from assorted old fogeys that Deadline Day no longer sparks the same excitement it once did. This is true, but for good reason—teams today generally have their shit together, and now know that it’s generally not to fill a freight train full of money and send it crashing into the side of a mountain simply because they’ve left their homework to the very last minute.
But there is much, much more wrong with this annual event, enough to fill a soccer website listicle. And so here’s why the Transfer Deadline Day is, well, a bit meh:
And no, I’m not just talking about those garbage, anonymous Soccer ITK Twitter accounts whose voluminous follower counts serve only to prove PT Barnum’s edict about suckers being born every minute. This also goes for those self-described football experts who, without citation, claim to know the rhyme and reason for each and every last minute individual transfer, in addition to the likelihood it will work out and that the transfer fee is either exorbitantly high or mind-boggling under-valued. These are legion on social media today. Consider logging off to avoid.
Hey guys, did you know that some club owners and players travel around in helicopters to sign contracts and hammer out last minute deals on Deadline Day? And do you know that some clubs send over paperwork by fax machine on Deadline Day too? This is all hilarious for some reason.
Though many football clubs are run by panicky suits with more money than sense, generally clubs have come to realise that deciding to pay tens of millions of pounds or euros on a player who will be at your club for at least a couple of seasons in the middle of a 24 hour fever dream is maybe not the best way to do business.
I mean, what’s his deal? Does he go back and live in a burlap sack for the other 363 days of the year when he’s not writhing in excitement on the latest £8 million fifth string striker pick up at Reading?
The truth is nobody knows what’s going on. All these instant takes on these utterly unknown Belgian Jupiler League properties who’ve just arrived on loan at Hull are entirely made up. People are insecure, you’re not alone. Relax.
Oh god hurry hurry, the window is almost shut! Just imagine the worst case scenario if we don’t sign the player who will likely be nothing more than a second-string fullback—we’ll either have to go for him in five months, the next summer window, or just forget it and probably enjoy a perfectly decent season anyway!
Nope, no thanks.