Conte has now turned into a minor Mourinho

Let's hold on to this round of the league, drunken friends, because afterward the nightmare of the international break returns, with horrendous and almost all pointless matches and the only alternative being the Women's Champions League (I'd rather drink water for two days). The only note of journalistic interest are the names of the squad, and in England there's the return of Bellingham and Foden, praised by Tuchel, who wanted them for the two matches against Serbia and Albania, sparking panic among Real Madrid and Manchester City fans: if there's one certainty in these matches, it's that almost always some player gets injured and becomes unavailable for their club, with the attendant controversy over excessive international commitments .

However, I read that UEFA has finally decided to rethink the obsolete and boring group format, with matches more lopsided than a New York election, and would like to propose a Champions League-style mega-group . This makes sense, and in fact it doesn't come from FIFA, where they're too busy eating and accusing Gianni Infantino of violating the statutes for his public praise of Donald Trump.

It doesn't violate any standards, but Antonio Conte's predictable transformation into a minor Mourinho is a real pain in the ass, a classic of his second year as coach of a team . I've read embarrassing statements from internet conspiracy theorists about Napoli "annoying someone and therefore being penalized," and accusations of the Germans practicing catenaccio (and eating pizza and playing the mandolin, right?). Sure, at least Conte is still winning something, while Mourinho persists in the slow agony of his demise—but he was right about the Turkish referees: finished, yes, but not idiots.

I'm preparing for the Premier League weekend with plenty of beer, and while I gulp down the blonde, I'm thankful that I'll be watching Tottenham vs. Manchester United and Manchester City vs. Liverpool, not Juventus vs. Torino or Inter vs. Lazio (I'd rather spank myself with my belt). And here's to the Telegraph, which this week, just two years late, agreed to the inclusive guidelines introduced by the English Rugby Union: no more man of the match, too sexist, and no more gender-neutral pronouns for teammates (and not "boys") to avoid offending those who don't feel masculine (or feminine in the case of women's rugby). They should all be sent packing, but even then, someone gets offended.

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