The Witness: Michael Moynihan

 

 

Background Noise: Rustling papers, winds blowing outside; over all, a haunting, familiar Italianate theme on violin.

John Terry: Alright, gaffer?

Fabio Capello: Come in, John. And as I’ve told you before, please: call me Fabio.

John Terry: Really?

Fabio Capello: No. To you it’s Don Fabio. Today of all days.

John Terry: Sorry.

Fabio Capello: Why do you refuse my friendship? If you had, then today your enemies would be my enemies. And then they would fear you.

John Terry: On the Godfather videos again?

Fabio Capello: It’s a classic. Always get something different every time I see it.

John Terry: That explains the music. My favourite bit is where...

Fabio Capello: Okay John, this isn’t personal. Is strictly business.

John Terry: Are we still doing the Godfather?

Fabio Capello: You’re out, John. What you’ve done, it just isn’t good enough. Though those Team Bridge t-shirts, do me a favour.

John Terry: Your English is coming on.

Fabio Capello: Grazie.

John Terry: The new Martin Amis is out, you’ll enjoy that.

Fabio Capello: John, is no point in delaying the inevitable. The armband. Hand it over.

(Rummaging sounds)

John Terry: There you go.

Fabio Capello: That’s a . . . comme se dice . . . a garter belt.

John Terry: Sorry boss. Here you go. Who’s getting it?

Fabio Capello: Rio. I need someone I can trust, John. A dependable person. Someone who is always there when I need him.

John Terry: Well, Rio’s your man. Just ask the drug testers.

Fabio Capello: I need you to do one more thing, John. For the famiglia. Not for Wayne Bridge’s famiglia, I think you’ve done quite enough there. But the famiglia of the English team.

John Terry: I understand.

Fabio Capello: You must apologise. To everybody.

John Terry: Okay.

Fabio Capello: That’s not my thought, John. That is the thought of the boss. The big man. Il Padrino himself. He has said so, and it must be.

John Terry: The Prime Minister? Roman? Not – not, the Pope?

Fabio Capello: Idiot. I talk of Max Clifford. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.