Sam Allardyce Renamed The St. George’s Park WiFi Connection, And This Is What It Means

This article originally appeared on VICE Sports UK.

Considering that only cool, well-balanced people browse this website, we can safely say that nobody reading this has ever changed the name of their WiFi connection. Changing the WiFi name is the preserve of sociopaths, narcissists and people with passive aggression issues, the ultimate powerplay in a relative strangers' flatshare for five. Normal people have a network name prefixed by 'BT Home Hub', or 'Virgin', or whatever, followed by a jumbled mix of numbers and capitalised letters, not a connection that has been titled 'DAN'S PERSONAL WIFI' or 'USING MY NETWORK AGAIN, JAN? I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN DRINKING THE COMMUNAL MILK'. Should you ever find yourself in the house of someone with a customised network name, get the hell out of there. These people are dangerous, and could strike out at any minute. They are egomaniacs, neurotics and petty totalitarians, and you should avoid their pernicious influence at all costs.

There is one other explanation for someone having a personalised network name, of course. It is possible that said person is in their early sixties, and is chronically illiterate in all things 'tech'. "But how will the WiFi know where to find me?" your dad asks, pronouncing it WeeFee, chuckling knowingly to himself. He is slowly typing 'D-A-D-I-N-T-E-R-N-E-T' into the custom name box using only his two index fingers. "I don't want to accidentally use the neighbour's Google," he says, matter-of-factly, as you try to suppress an anguished scream.

If there's someone who's become an expert in anguished screaming over the past week or so, it is Sam Allardyce. Big Sam was relieved of the England job last week after drinking a pint of wine getting caught up in an undercover sting by The Telegraph, making him the shortest-serving England manager of all time, even if he is also technically the most successful. The public inquisition that has followed has been extremely embarrassing for the FA, English football and Big Sam himself, who has promptly absconded to his villa on the Costa Blanca. One of the most embarrassing revelations to have emerged is that, at some point in his 67 days in the job, Big Sam reportedly renamed the WiFi connection at St. George's Park, changing it to 'BIG SAM'S OFFICE'.

Now, we would like to put this down to technological incompetence. We would like to imagine Big Sam, desperately trying to find the manual to his Mac, mashing his keyboard with the palm of his hand in frustration as he attempted to rename the WiFi after his own good self. "WHAT'S WITH ALL THESE FOOKIN' NUMBERS," he bellows at Gareth Southgate, smashing Ctrl+Alt+Delete over and over again. "I WANT IT TO SAY BIG SAM'S OFFICE, NOT FOOKIN' PLUSNET," he roars, shaking the monitor with all his might.

He is furious at the computer in the way that only a 61-year-old man can be furious; maddened, goaded like a bull, on the verge of hot, proud tears. "WE DIDN'T HAVE ANY OF THIS FOOKIN' NONSENSE BACK AT PRESTON IN THE NINETIES, AND WE GOT ON JUST FINE," he cries, before going on a half-hour rant about how online banking is ruining our high streets. "GET DELE ALLI IN HERE, HE MUST KNOW ABOUT THESE THINGS," he howls, before storming off in a cloud of expletives, muttering about self-service machines and how good, honest checkout staff are being replaced by robots.

It is better for us to believe that Big Sam has a substandard understanding of technology, see. It is better for us to imagine that he wanted to rename the WiFi connection to 'BIG SAM'S OFFICE' because, otherwise, he thought it would get mixed up with all the other office WiFis and cause some sort of localised blackout. This is Big Sam the stereotype, Big Sam the caricature, Big Sam the man who replies to phishing scams thinking that they're business propositions. This is the man who apprently took the same printer with him from West Ham to Sunderland, presumably out of an anthropomorphic sense of fondness. "THIS HAS PRINTED OVER THREE 'UNDRED DOCUMENTS FOR ME, THE BEAUTY," he'd say, while patting it affectionately in front of the board of directors. This is the timeworn parody of Big Sam, and it comforts us, whether or not it resembles anything like the actual truth.

Considering that Allardyce is commonly said to despise all such caricatures, the truth of his personalised WiFi connection is probably somewhat darker. He prides himself on being a modern manager, has pioneered sports science techniques and is, by all reports, as technologically adept as they come. This takes us back to our initial point, and leaves us suspecting Big Sam is a raging megalomaniac. This makes us think that he would have had the entirety of St. George's Park renamed 'BIG SAM'S OFFICE' had he spent any longer in the job, in much the same way that his overseas villa is adorned with a massive plaque that bears his name.

These are the two sides of Sam Allardyce, epitomised in a customised network name at St. George's Park. He is either a lovable, naive, 19th-century luddite, or a man with a gargantuan ego and a semi-debilitating sense of self-regard. Either he doesn't understand all this newfangled broadband nonsense, or he wanted to remind his entire workplace of exactly who was the fookin' boss. We'd like to think it's the former but, considering the manner of his departure as England boss, we're struggling to maintain the fond facade.

@W_F_Magee