Football has become a multi-million pound industry, but clubs still insist on using a battered up fax machine to complete transfer deals.
When the fax machine was first introduced to the world of football, it made life an awful lot easier. Finally clubs had an alternative to the temperamental postal service, which had turned the transfer market into a lottery.
For example, by the time Manchester United’s £3m bid for Paul Gascoigne, sent second class in June 1988, arrived at Newcastle United’s headquarters in the summer of 2008, Gazza had moved to Tottenham, Lazio, Rangers, Middlesbrough, Everton, Burnley, some Chinese lot and Boston United, managed Kettering Town while off his tits, destroyed his family, fallen into alcoholism, put on five stone and been sectioned. Never certain who is in their squad, Newcastle’s knowledgeable board accepted the bid.
However, the introduction of the fax machine brought its own transfer problems with it, which is little surprise given that it’s a silly old device which is always out of either ink or paper with a number that’s just a bit different to the actual phone number.
“There was a problem with the fax machines – one was broken and the other had run out of ink. But we managed to get it sorted with just minutes to spare. Without this error-prone Czech defender I would’ve been a broken man,” the simpleton supremo told Sky Sport Italia.
They weren’t the only clubs left scratching their heads on transfer deadline day.
When the work experience kid at Loftus Road left his grocery list on top of QPR’s fax machine, the Super Hoops accidentally bought teabags, milk, jam and Rich Tea biscuits from Rochdale for £450,000.