Give managers like Manchester United's Jose Mourinho an inch and they take a mile

• e-mail

It was only six inches. Everyone said so. In the studios, on the radio. The lads around the monitors for Soccer Saturday looked particularly aggrieved. Merse, Thommo, Tiss, Charlie, even Jeff, the sensible one. They all shook their heads in disbelief.

What is football coming to, they asked. What is it coming to when a manager can't just leave his technical area and enter the pitch in the middle of a match without some over-officious nobody bringing up something as trifling as the rules?

Bryan Robson said much the same the next day. 'A joke of a decision,' he called Jose Mourinho's late dismissal at Southampton on Saturday. 'Stepping on to the pitch, six inches over the white line…' 

Jose Mourinho was sent to the stand in injury-time during Man United's win at Southampton

The Manchester United manager (R) shown encroaching on the field of play during the game

Again with the six inches. It's as if size does not matter at Manchester United. Yet here is the irony. If late in the game, Nathan Redmond had sprinted down the touchline, ran the ball six inches out of play, got away with it, and set up a move from which Southampton had equalised, the same folk so unconcerned by Mourinho's action would have berated the officials all the way back up the M3.

Then, boundaries would have been important. Goal-line technology was introduced because football people were enraged to the point of madness that a ball could cross the line by six inches —a whole six inches — and the officials not spot it through a crowd of players.

That's the problem with rules. They're like dogs. Not just for Christmas, or when you feel like it. The white line around the pitch cannot be there for some, but not others.

It cannot apply to the players, and the fans, but not to Mourinho, or any manager for that matter.

This isn't all about him, you see. It's about them. Anything that is not stopped is encouraged so, by sending Mourinho to the stands, but not making such a song and dance about it that a disproportionate punishment followed, referee Craig Pawson did the game a great favour.

That wasn't his intention, apparently. Pawson was, by all accounts, a reluctant participant in this episode. It was Mike Jones, the fourth official, who thought Mourinho had literally overstepped the mark. 

Mourinho was sent to the stands late on in Manchester United's win over Southampton

The boss accidentally appeared to collide with fourth official Mike Jones last Saturday

He called Pawson over, as is procedure, to relay his concerns and at that point the match official had no option but to support his assistant. Had he simply talked to Mourinho he would have been marked down by the match observer.

Pawson was not delighted at being placed in this position.

Yet all's well that ends well. Sensibly, it was decided Mourinho did not merit a further ban or a fine, and this could simply be a lesson learned. There was no impact on the result, so no ramifications in a professional sense. Just a message to all managers to respect boundaries.

If it happens again, and there are harsher consequences, nobody can claim they were not warned.

And it would happen again, unchecked, have no doubt of that. Pawson's action was necessary because once managers could put one foot on the pitch, soon it would be two — and the six inches would become 12 and then a yard, and then they would be jostling for position with the linesman, or maybe the opposition full back.

It would be like grappling in the box. Football let it slide and now it's part of the game. At first it seemed innocuous — six of one, half a dozen of the other — push-me-pull-you, but it grew unchecked and became a problem nobody now knows how to fix. There is no appetite for the draconian solution — a month of carnage, four penalties per game, eight bookings each side — so we are stuck with it.

The Portuguese boss rushes out of his technical area to issue instructions

Mourinho has long pushed the envelope, inch by inch, on encroachment, like a kid whistling at the back of class. He knows the noise is driving the teacher nuts but, when sir finally explodes, he can affect a look of innocence and say: 'I was only whistling.'

United's manager was only six inches over. And some are falling for that excuse. But the distance does not matter. He knows he shouldn't be there. He knows he is testing the officials by taking that position. And he crossed two white lines in reality, not one, because the boundary of his technical area allows room for the assistant referee to run the line.

So he crossed that, and then another white-painted boundary to enter the actual playing area. The best that can be argued is he got lost in the moment. More likely he knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.

He is connecting, almost part of the team. He's one of them — look how much he cares. He uses his physical proximity and presence to inspire greater effort. And there's an underlying message, too. He's Jose Mourinho, we're Manchester United, and we'll do what we want.

For here's another imperial measurement that has been featuring quite heavily in conversations around Old Trafford of late: 24 inches. That's the size of a part of Romelu Lukaku's anatomy, according to a bawdy supporters' song. And the attitude of some, when asked to stop, followed a familiar pattern. We're Manchester United, they said, we'll sing what we want.

It is a flawed argument, particularly in a week when the case for self-censorship has been so helpfully proven by a former British Airways stewardess, Joanne Wickenden. Fans may think they are bigging up Lukaku, so to speak, but in reality there is no such thing as a positive stereotype. 

Mourinho was sent to the stands by the referee following his action in the closing minutes

Those who consider men of African origin to be well endowed are also more likely to think them inferior intellectually, or given to illegal activity and carrying the Ebola virus.

A case in point involves Wickenden, captured in a Snapchat post, joking inappropriately about a flight to Nigeria. She made several references to impressive African penis size via the euphemism 'BBC' — you can probably work it out, but for sheltered souls needing a clue the first letter stands for 'big' — but it can hardly be said her take on African clientele was positive from there.

She depicted them as greedy, grasping, demanding, crude, rude and her impression of their conversational abilities made Jim Davidson's Chalky White appear a sophisticated role model. With inadvertent timing, Wickenden substantiated the politically correct view of all those who oppose the Lukaku song.

The alternative take asks whether Lukaku would care about the chant had others not become offended on his behalf.

Joe Orton's play What The Butler Saw initially concluded with one of the cast holding aloft a section of a statue of Sir Winston Churchill.

Fearing intervention from the Lord Chamberlain, whose job at the time was to censor art and protect public sensibilities, this prop was changed from a large phallus to a cigar. Orton was perplexed, and detailed a conversation with the play's producer, Oscar Lewenstein, in his diary. 

Romelu Lukaku looks on during Manchester United's victory over CSKA Moscow

'What am I saying about Churchill though?' I said. 'You're saying he had a big p****,' Oscar said. 'That isn't libellous surely?' I said. 'I wouldn't sue anybody for saying I had a big p****. I might even pay them to do that.'

As Orton was much given to trawling gentlemen's toilets for trade, he may have been grateful of the advanced publicity. Lukaku not so much.

Either way, though, it is his call on what he finds offensive and for supporters to announce they will sing what they want, despite objections from the player, his agent, and the club, not to mention anti-racism pressure groups, shows a rather well-honed sense of entitlement.

For this is what it boils down to. Not six inches, or 24. Not white lines or BBCs. The modern desire to do or say whatever we want, out of pure privilege, as if everything is our right.

The white lines are not there for Mourinho. The songs are there to serve the singers. Me, me, me. Us, us, us. That's why what Pawson did was necessary. It was a small acknowledgement of the reasonable limits on our entitled lives.

We may not like it, but the lines are there for a reason. 

Crystal Palace striker Christian Benteke is out for six weeks. Yes, it's a blow, but they're not exactly going to miss his goals, are they? 

Crystal Palace striker Christian Benteke (C) has been ruled out for six weeks with injury

Never mind Ronaldo, Harry is nearly as good as Ron Davies! 

Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo were the reference points but, with Harry Kane, it is worth starting closer to home. If he scores against Huddersfield on Saturday, Kane will be up there with Ron Davies.

And that's quite the compliment. At his peak, Davies had days when he was close to unstoppable and his strength and ability in the air were legendary. 

On August 16, 1969, he scored four goals, three of them headers, for Southampton against Manchester United in a 4-1 win at Old Trafford. United manager Sir Matt Busby said Davies had no equal in Europe. 

Tottenham striker Harry Kane is on the path to becoming a striking legend 

He was top goalscorer in the old First Division with 37 goals in 1966-67, and joint top the year after, with George Best. And it is in the middle of those campaigns that Davies set his benchmark. From the start of the calendar year, January 1967, to the end of September, Davies scored 26 league goals. It is a run that has remained unbeaten in the half-century since.

There have been many great goalscorers since but none that have beaten Davies over that time frame. Kane will, if he scores twice at Huddersfield.

And yes, it is a rather strange milestone across a rather arbitrary period, but anyone that Sir Matt acclaimed as Europe's best must have been some player — and Kane is up there now.

Strange that we find it easier to compare him with Messi and Ronaldo, rather than a Welshman like Davies. Maybe it's because he is one of our own that his achievements remain undervalued.

Ron Davies heads the first goal for his team in the First Division match against Tottenham

Loose lips sink ships and don't help managers

If West Ham's board wish to contemplate the harmful effects of feeding speculation about their manager, they need only look at the case of Craig Shakespeare.

Leicester have four points this season, the same as West Ham. True, as mitigation, Leicester have had a difficult run of early fixtures — but equally West Ham began with three away games, including a visit to Old Trafford, as a result of conversion work on the London Stadium.

Yet while Slaven Bilic exists under a cloud of negative conjecture, there is no mention of trouble for Shakespeare. 

West Ham manager Slaven Bilic is permanently one defeat away from getting the sack

This despite West Ham not being a sacking club — and Leicester's board being arguably the most unforgiving in the league. West Ham under David Sullivan and David Gold rarely fire the boss. They went down with Avram Grant in charge when even the most soft-hearted soul could see he was out of his depth.

By contrast, Leicester dumped Claudio Ranieri roughly half a season after performing a miracle, the greatest title win in the history of English football.

Not long previously, they had sacked Nigel Pearson, who had pulled off one of the greatest escapes from relegation.

So Leicester's board are merciless. Yet because they don't talk about it, because they don't let rumours run, or allow chatter and speculation to infest the conversation, Shakespeare sails on undoubted.

Bilic, meanwhile, is permanently one defeat from the sack. There is a lesson here, if anyone at West Ham is interested in heeding it.

Leicester boss Craig Shakespeare sails on undoubted despite his team's poor start

Ghouls, fools and the EFL 

AFC Wimbledon are in trouble having refused to acknowledge Milton Keynes Dons by their full name, when the clubs met last week. The Football League are upset that Wimbledon left the word 'Dons' out of all mentions in the match programme and the name of their opponents off the cover.

AFC, a phoenix club formed by folk with long memories and sizable grudges, claim 'Dons' was stolen when Pete Winkelman took the original Wimbledon and its league status and moved them 80 miles north.

And they're right, of course. Indeed, for all the help the Football League were at the time, they are lucky to get a namecheck in any Wimbledon publication at all. Unless it is in the crossword section.

'A total, feeble ghoul' (anag, 3, 8, 6).

A sign at AFC Wimbledon refusing to acknowledge Milton Keynes Dons by their full name

Russian racists shame football 

Liverpool's UEFA Youth League game with Spartak Moscow took place at a small stadium in the Sokolniki district on the outskirts of the city. So, away from the cameras, out came the boneheads. 

Bobby Adekanye, a winger born in Nigeria, was subject to racist abuse and chanting. Liverpool have complained.

And this is the country that will host the World Cup this summer. Of course, there will be no repeat of such vileness there.

Under public scrutiny, racists know exactly how to behave. They will go under the radar and wait for the focus of the world to turn elsewhere before emerging to spit their poison as they did in Sokolniki. This is why Russia remains the last place the World Cup should have gone.

Bobby Adekanye in action in Liverpool's UEFA Youth League game with Spartak Moscow