Whilst Big Al suns himself in the Carribean, and Big Mike chows down with the Chow Mein in Hong Kong, Big Sam kicks off his boots and puts on his slippers to watch (like the rest of us) with a degree of vicarious pleasure, the unfolding farce of Newcastle searching for a new manager. But it’s all a Big Balls-Up, as per usual.

Stability breeds success. But yet again we are left without a chance of building that stability, because none of us was willing to watch the turgid, uninspiring, soul-crushing long-ball percentage football that Sam wanted to serve up as hors d’ouevres to a potential footballing banquet. All of which is fair enough - supporting Newcastle is costly, in emotional and financial terms…and we expect (fair enough really, wouldn’t you say so Mr. Ashley?) a decent return on our investment. So off with Sam’s head…and long live the King…

…Except we don’t actually have anyone lined up, do we? Nice one. So the press and the media can all gather round and point and laugh at the Newcastle United Comedy Club once again. This was meant to be a bright new dawn, a brave new world and a new chapter in the history of our proud club. We had seen Ashley and Mort vanquish the pie-eating buffoonery of Freddie Shepherd once and for all. And you would think, being a successful billionaire businessman, that when you buy a football club like Newcastle United from a slug like Freddie Shepherd only to discover a trail of financial mismanagement and neglect, evidence of a litany of poor decisions in the hiring and firing of managers over recent seasons…you would think that perhaps you would learn from your precedessors mistakes, but wait…nope…things seem to be just as haphazard as they ever were under Shepherd.

It may be just that expectations have rocketed on account of the arrival of Mikey Moneybags Ashley and the Rigorous Mr Mort…but within hours of Sam’s departure, Newcastle United fan websites were simmering with the fevered talk of a new era under Mourinho or Lippi or Klinsmann…the prospect of a glorious return to the much-missed attacking football of Keegan or Robson at SJP had Toon Fans donning their best silk pyjamas for a night of blissfully sexy football dreams, only to be awoken by the news that, more realistically, Allardyce had been ousted for the likes of Sparky Hughes, Harry “The Neck Twitch” Redknapp or Steve “Wally with the Brolly” McLaren, at which point you could hear 100,000 Geordie rectums simultaneously hitting the floor in despair and a mournful wail of “WHY?!!!” gathering in the Northern skies like a great grey cloud fit to burst open and drench the Tyne Valley in the collective tears of disappointed fans.

Surely to goodness there has to be more to look forward to than the same old mistakes and media own-goals, and a revolving door policy which has seen Newcastle United all too frequently cited as one of the most impatient clubs in the Premiership. I don’t seek to suggest that what Allardyce was delivering was particularly enthralling or confidence-inspiring, or even make a case for having retained him, but timing is everything…and as has been said by others on various web discussion forums, sacking Sam at this juncture, in the middle of the January transfer window, without having secured a hallmark successor who would truly signal the beginning of a new era under Ashley and Mort - well, it’s just beyond mystifying. Especially when arguably a couple of well-chosen midfield acquisitions may well have been enough to push Sam’s team into a whole new gear and see his team achieve at the level the Toon expected.