It’s the season of silly phrases, starlets, and social media shenanigans, and Gary Hutchinson wants everyone to relax.
The transfer window is supposed to be a thrilling time. Clubs rebuilding, managers plotting, fans dreaming. But somewhere between the clickbait headlines, repetitive clichés, and the Twitter nonsense, it’s become borderline unbearable.
I love the drama of a signing. I enjoy the strategy, the speculation, and even the odd ITK whisper that might (just might) have some substance. But what I can’t abide is the absolute state of the language we use during transfer season. If we’re going to talk football, let’s at least raise the bar above playground-level storytelling.
Let’s start with the phrase that makes me roll my eyes so hard I nearly dislocate a retina: “Club X are chasing highly-rated Player Y.” Of course, he’s sold as highly-rated. They’re a football club and they want to buy a good footballer. What’s the alternative? “We’re looking at an absolute donkey and hoping nobody else notices”? Every transfer target is “highly-rated.” If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be a target. This isn’t news, it’s filler. It’s a lazy crutch used to make a bland sentence sound dramatic, and yes, I’m sure if you search ‘highly-rated’ on this site, you’ll have seen I have used it.
Then there’s “xxx interested in signing starlet…”—a phrase seemingly cobbled together from a 1950s theatre review. A starlet is a young actress trying to break into Hollywood, not a teenager from Blackburn Rovers with three EFL Trophy appearances. He might be a prospect, a talent, even a youth international. But unless he’s turning up to training in a feather boa and sunglasses, trying to avoid Harvey Weinstein, he’s not a starlet.
My blood pressure also spikes at every quote from a newly signed player saying it was “a no-brainer.” I get it, you’ve just signed a three-year deal, you want to endear yourself to the fans, and someone’s stuck a dictaphone in your face. But is it really so hard to offer a little more than the verbal equivalent of a shrug? “No-brainer” is shorthand for “I didn’t think about this much,” which probably isn’t the best sales pitch to your new employer or its supporters.
And of course, we’re always told that clubs have “beaten off stiff competition” to land a signing. No kidding. It’s a transfer window, not a tombola. If a player is any good, other clubs will be interested. If they’re not, you’ve probably overpaid. Unless you’ve genuinely pipped Real Madrid at the post for a left-back from Grimsby, let’s just assume a bit of competition was involved and move on.
And let’s not forget the forums and timelines, which at this time of year are a carousel of the same predictable statements. The second retained lists drop, the usual accounts spring to life with “such-and-such a player would be a good signing” under every released player. Really? You saw a lot of the Derby County reserve side, did you? Or is it just because he once came on in the Europa League for Spurs? I’d wager a club’s recruitment team know a bit more about a good signing than a wannabe expert on Twitter with access to FotMob and 30 seconds to bash out a rubbish tweet.
There’s also the strange urge some fans have to pine after former players. “Bring him home” is a noble sentiment when it’s a club legend. I’ve seen a few “Star Boy” comments when a player you used to have moves on. It’s delusional when it’s a third-choice midfielder who last played for you before Covid who ends up in League Two (if you’re League One, of course, which my team is). There’s a reason they’re ex-players—just like ex-partners, they’re usually ex for a reason. We had a time. It didn’t last. Let it go.
Similarly, those try-hard accounts sometimes go overboard. Your club signs a player from Harrogate, and you might want to know a bit about them, right? Goals, appearances, maybe a position. Hell, even a bit of insight from the selling club’s popular podcast might be good. What is probably overkill is some teenager wannabe in his bedroom putting together a 64-page dossier on where the player might fit in, what his eating habits are like and how he once crossed the road to avoid bumping into Steve Evans. There is analysis, and then there is try-hard Chat-GPT-generated analysis that is as pointless as carrying water in a sieve.
And while we’re at it, a note to club media departments: you don’t need to turn every signing into an episode of Britain’s Got Talent. I’ve seen some great ones, but some just stink the place out. A teaser is good, maybe even a little fanfare for a big signing. But when you’re a club announcing more signings than an angry petition, not every transfer requires a 90-second teaser with neon lights, slow zooms, and TikTok filters. Sometimes you just need a photo of the lad holding a scarf. That’s it. Not everything has to go viral.
So as this transfer window drags into its inevitable silly-season peak, maybe we can ask for a little bit more substance, a little less theatre, and a touch more originality. I know it’s unlikely. But if I see one more “no-brainer starlet who’s highly-rated and chased by half the league,” I might just log off until September.
It’s not the signings that wear you down. It’s everything that gets said about them.
