Facing up to the very ugly truth about Mr Barton

Mar 21 2010 by Neil Farrington, Sunday Sun

I CAN see the attraction of Iain Dowie. No, really, I can.

After several seasons wondering about – and at – Phil Brown’s facial fluff and orange hue, the appeal of the “ugliest man in football” (© everyone) should be obvious.

From a bloke who clearly spent far too long gazing at his own reflection, wouldn’t you be tempted to turn to a guy who cracked a thousand mirrors?

With Tango Man, it seemed all about the image. With Shrek (or is it Sloth from The Goonies?), at least it will be about the football.

That’s Championship football, of course.

If only Joey Barton kept it all about the football, his imminent return might not be even uglier a prospect than Dowie.

But if the way wor Joey took a penalty for Newcastle United’s reserves the other night only suggested someone who still sees himself as a man apart, his post-match ramblings firmly smacked of a sadly familiar messiah complex.

No matter that he had fluffed his spot-kick in feckless style, Barton spoke as though his comeback could be critical to the Magpies’ promotion push, rather than an unwanted side show.

Barton, you see, is big time.

And so he talked of the modesty of the occasion and surroundings at Hartlepool not being what “somebody like myself gets up for”.

He spoke of getting a “sustained run” in the first team this season.

And he claimed to feel like “a better player now” than when he was “in the top echelon of midfielders in the country”.

So far, so too good to be true.

The reality, of course, is that Barton has talked far better – and longer – than he has ever played for Newcastle.

And that includes a brief spell early this season when he failed dismally to dominate players from an altogether different echelon.

Yes, he also spoke at Hartlepool of his need to produce actions rather than words.

But while he still sounds so delusional, what price him buckling down on the pitch to the plain reality that he is sixth in the midfield pecking order.

Not in the world, not with England, not even at Manchester City. But at a Championship club.

That’s a Championship club doing perfectly well without him and his baggage.

Ah, but at least Barton stayed loyal to the cause when others packed up and left last summer, I hear you – and him – cry.

When the players were asked who wanted to stay on in the Championship, Barton recalled: “My hand went straight up. I wanted to help get the team back up.”

Like most things he says, that sounds all well and good.

But it was hardly much of a sacrifice, given his still handsome wages and £675,000-a-year image rights.

What was that about a messiah complex?

Only three months ago, he said his spell in prison in 2008 “cost me about £500,000 plus my reputation”. Yes, his reputation.

What was that about delusional?

No, the only obviously impressive thing about Barton in 2010 is that so many people still share his faith in his ability.

Those misguided souls see him not as kill, but as potential cure.

To me, it’s blindingly obvious he is an irrelevance.