There's an article on the BBC website today headlined "Do You Have a Wayne Rooney in Your Office?" I presumed that this was going to be an article about someone who was anxious to move to pastures new in order to further their career ambitions, financial or otherwise. Potentially interesting, I thought. We usually have several of those passing through at any one time, on their way onwards and upwards to bigger and better salaries elsewhere. Good luck to them, I suppose.
Actually, the article's not that interesting. Instead, it breaks down the potential Wayne Rooneys in your office into a number of categories:
> Bringing the company into disrepute
> Wanting to leave
> Feeling undervalued
> Asking for a payrise
Blah blah blah.
Bored yet? I was.
It did get me thinking though: as I've worked in (more or less) the same place for a number of years without ever really distinguishing myself or seeking to move elsewhere, I'm clearly not the Wayne Rooney in my office. But if I'm not him, then who am I? My immediate thought was a player like Ryan Giggs: came up through the youth system and clearly content to spend his whole career in dedicated service to one club. Hmm. But then again, am I really ever likely to be regarded as one of the best players in the world and receive the honour of being voted footballer of the year by my peers? Am I the kind of player that people will want in their Fantasy Football team? Will I receive much in the way of sponsorship or endorsements? In a word, no. Reluctantly, I'm also forced to admit that, honest performer and hard-worker though I am, it looks too late in the day for me to receive International recognition now. I may once have been a contender, but those days now look to be behind me. I'm solid and reliable, but I doubt that I'd be the first name down on the team sheet. In fact, I'm not sure that I'd make the bench. Or the first team squad at all.
What does that leave?
Am I even on the groundstaff?
I hate this metaphor.
what did you do in the pandemic, daddy? (2)
15 hours ago