HAND OF TODD Football is a simple game – a truism that goes a long way to explaining why it has taken over the world, the only human creation to transcend every possible human difference. And because understanding its rhythms and tactics is so easily done, those who know nothing about it whatsoever can still master it almost immediately, processing its 150 or so years of history to deliver infallible analysis in a matter of minutes. Take Todd Boehly, for example. One might have thought someone with no footballing experience would require time to adjust to a new sport and culture; not so! Rather, Boehly’s floppy fringe and trove of blazers have sent him soaring like a Rüpell’s vulture learning to fly, surveying everything from above before swooping low to pull flesh off the bones of ground-bound inferiors. Only Boehly could purchase Chelsea and, within a matter of months, deduce that the manager who unexpectedly made them champions of Europe was in fact an encumbrance. But with the chairman now installed as sporting director – by himself, because who else could make a decision of such magnitude? – the tao of Todd trumped Thomas Tuchel’s triumph and rightly so. Who else would have realised that what the club needed was not the safe custodianship of a Big Cup winner unenthused by the rich flavours of his boss’s rectum, but the enfeebling enervation of a bloke who’d done alright at Brighton? So off went Tuchel and in came Graham Potter, the authority he lacked immediately addressed via the purchase of a rollneck and installation of a fade. To help the new man, a haphazard selection of expensive players with no reason to respect him were recruited, Todd having cunningly detected a lacuna in spending rules that meant he could fritter as much money as he liked with no adverse effect. And though, in the event, this has proved not to be the case – the club will have to shed various players this summer – that can hardly be blamed on a visionary for whom the world was not yet ready. Just ask Galileo. Or Shabbatai Tzvi. Potter lasted seven months, dazzled by the glare of Boehly’s footballing light; Mauricio Pochettino was appointed in his stead. And again, Todd deployed the unarguable wisdom of his vast exchequer, hurling players into the squad like a toddler mainlining Sunny D, deliberately testing the acumen of his new recruit by making his job as difficult as possible. It was, therefore, no great surprise that Pochettino – a relative novice – required the best part of a season to get Chelsea good again, whereupon he too was fired for insufficient collegiality, threatened by his proximity to football’s arch understander. Which brings us to Enzo Maresca, poised to be appointed as Boehly’s latest bag-carrier. The Leicester manager is at least practised in the art following his time working for Pep Guardiola, and his outstanding quality – gratitude for a job he hasn’t earned – gives him a chance. Unless, of course, we’ve all been getting it wrong all along, and it’s not, in fact, the game that’s simple. WIN A DAVID SQUIRES PRINT! Thanks to our friends at the Guardian Print Shop, we are giving away more David Squires cartoons. To enter, just write us a letter for publication below. We will choose the best of our letter o’ the day winners at the end of each week and that worthy winner will be given a voucher for one of our top, top cartoonist’s prints. And if you’re not successful, you can scan the full archive of David’s cartoons here and then buy your own. Terms and conditions for the competition can be viewed here – and here’s David’s latest on the Manchester United situation. QUOTE OF THE DAY “We reached a point in which we are tired of the injustices, of not being valued, not being heard and, even worse, being humiliated. We need improvements for the women’s team, and I am not only talking about finances. I speak about training, having lunch, breakfast.” The Argentina defender Julieta Cruz explains why she is quitting the national team, along with two other players. Cruz claims that at a recent training camp, the only food items provided to players were a ham and cheese sandwich and a banana. FOOTBALL DAILY LETTERS After a season of misery, I suppose it’s no surprise that Bayern Munich chose Kompany” – Justin Kavanagh. Am I the only one of your 1,057 readers to think that for Sir Jim Ratcliffe to thank the players, staff, Uncle Tom Cobley and all after Manchester United won the FA Cup – but pointedly fail to mention the manager – was puerile, snide and totally lacking in class?”– Frank Landamore (and no others). On Saturday, the FA Cup engraver could have pre-carved ‘2024 Manchester’ on the trophy without a care and thus leave himself with a single word to worry about spelling correctly at full-time. I wonder if he did?” – Rod de Lisle. Can Ed Taylor [Friday’s letters] shed more light on his ongoing ‘beef’ with the Camra hierarchy? As he reads Big Paper, I am going to imagine he is a skinny jean-wearing, beard-stroking hipster who is at odds with the Fair-Isle-sweater-wearing, ale-quaffing traditionalists. Is this the British version of Kendrick Lamar v Drake?” – Paul McSheaffrey. I’ve been racking my brains as to why I can’t take Kieran McKenna seriously as the next big thing in management and it has suddenly hit me – his resemblance to one of the worst cabinet ministers this country has ever produced, occasional fireplace peddler Gavin Williamson” – Darrien Bold. Send letters to the.boss@theguardian.com. Today’s letter o’ the day winner is … Darrien Bold, who now has the chance to win a David Squires cartoon from our print shop at the end of the week. Terms and conditions for all this can be viewed here.