Silence is Golden

When Paul Ince was playing in the Premiership, it was pretty common knowledge that his nickname was the 'Guvnor'. What's not so widely known is that he actually bestowed said moniker on himself - even going so far as having a car numberplate made up and, presumably, christianing his house 'Chez Guv'.

You wonder how he sold his team mates on such arrogance - in particular Roy Keane during his time at Man Utd.

'Hey Incey, pass me a drink'

'It's Guvnor'

'Eh?'

'It's Guvnor - everyone calls me Guvnor'

'Do they?'

'Yes. It's Guvnor.'

'Well I'll fecking well call you what I fecking want. Now pass me a fecking drink.'

'Er, OK'.

I was reminded of Incey's chutzpah by the recent comments from Peter Siddle when he said that he wanted to take over the mantle previously held by Merv Hughes and Shane Warne of being the butt of English crowd abuse.

The kneejerk reaction to that is 'Ok mate - no problem. You asked for it'. But you'd like to think that there could be a bit more subtlty built into the response. After all, if Siddle uses such abuse to motivate himself, why give him the pleasure?

My suggestion is to therefore greet him with absolute silence when he arrives down on the boundary. No jeers, no waving, no middle-fingers, no nothing. If there has to be a song (and we know how the Barmy Army love a good song - even if it's the same one all bloody day long!!) then how about a quick rendition of Bjork's "Shhhh, Shhhh".

Or even John Cale's 4' 33''.