Dear Mal,

My managerial reputation is in tatters after an embarrassing cup defeat at the hands of a lower league side. This is my first management position and I am worried that my career may never recover.

Yours,

John Barnes

Big Mal says

I should think it fucking well is. Loser. Now clear your desk son. SORTED.

Dear Mal

My managerial reputation is in tatters after two embarrassing cup defeats at the hands of lower league sides. This is my first management position and I am worried that my career may never recover.

Yours,

Brain Robson

Big Mal says

Never mind mate. That’s the beauty of the cup, we’ve all suffered at the hands of giant killers. Everybody on Teesside is right behind you. Honest.SORTED.

Dear Mal,

What can I do? After being tricked into signing for a team in an industrial slum in the north east of England I was forced to leave and my career has suffered ever since. I wish I’d never set foot in the godforsaken place. How can I go about getting a move to a top European side?

Yours,

Fabrizio Ravanelli

Big Mal says

You must be joking. Everyone knows you’re finished. None of the big clubs would touch you. Your best bet is to try and wangle a move to a side scuffing around in the lower reaches of the Premier League. SORTED.

Dear Mal,

I would like you to let it be known that I wish to return to English football. I loved it in England, such beautiful scenery and such friendly people. I never wanted to leave you know. But, while I am willing to return to England I would only ever play for one club. My heart belongs forever to the Boro.

Yours,

Fabrizio Ravanelli

Big Mal says

Welcome back boy. Now, I’ll just give young Mikkel a ring. SORTED.