Dear José

Welcome to Inter Milan. When you arrived at Chelsea you claimed that you were “The Special One” and you lived up to it. Well done. I don’t know what you’ll say when Inter present you in the coming days, but you’ll have to go one better. Because you are now sipping from the most poisoned of chalices.

Inter’s nicknames are “Il Biscione” (“The Big Snake”) and “La Beneamata” (“The Cherished”). Both are appropriate. If you’re not careful, the snake will bite you in the rear. And the fact you are taking charge of the Inter fans’ cherished mother/sister/daughter/lover (choose whatever metaphor you like) means sooner or later you’re bound to face a shotgun and a shovel. (No Inter coach in recent history — and that includes Helenio Herrera, who won the European Cup twice — has left the club on good terms.)

First, the good news. You’ll have money to spend (although not as much as you did at Chelsea; not initially, anyway). You’ll get to perform in front of 80,000 in a magical place called the San Siro. And the media will not root around in your rubbish or follow your wife to the shops or devote acres of print to your players’ indiscretions. You’ll like that. You’ll have one of the most generous owners in the world, a man who tends to solve internal disputes by handing out pay rises. (Of course, you have more than enough personal wealth and there will be times when you’ll prefer a bit of backbone to a fatter pay cheque.)

Now, the bad news. The man you are replacing, Roberto Mancini, won three straight Serie A titles and was still given the boot. Why? Two reasons: he didn’t get along with people and he didn’t win the Champions League. You may be fine on the first front (with a few notable exceptions, all your players seem to quite like you: it’s one of your best attributes), the second may be a problem. Because excuses don’t go far at Inter.

Look at your predecessor. He had plenty of mitigating factors. One season he was knocked out of Europe because a “fan” hit the opposing team’s goalkeeper with a flare. The next two he was dumped out on the away goals rule after dominating both legs. And last year he played most of the decisive two-leg tie with ten men thanks to some dubious officiating. Did that help? Did it heck. He was still seen as a donkey. So here’s hoping you won’t need to make reference to “ghost goals” or opposing managers visiting the referee at half-time. It won’t buy you any time.

There is more bad news. You’re taking over an ageing team with a huge squad. According to media reports, you’re thinking of bringing in a new centre forward, either Samuel Eto’o or Didier Drogba. Great. Just remember, though, you’ll have to figure out what to do with Inter’s holdover strikers: Hernán Crespo (remember him?), Julio Cruz, David Suazo, Zlatan Ibrahimovic, Adriano and Mario Balotelli. Between them they make £20 million a year, which makes them hard to move on.

Not that you’ll have too much say over who comes and goes. Ibrahimovic just signed a five-year contract extension and I’m willing to bet the club didn’t tell you they were going to do that. He’s volatile and he’s the president’s darling, so you had better find a way to work with him. Rumours have you signing Frank Lampard and Deco, who will be 30 and 31 respectively when the season begins. Good players. They’ll fit right into a group that already features six thirtysomething midfield players.

When you left Chelsea, it was reportedly in part because of the interference from various club officials and hangers-on in Roman Abramovich’s court. Hopefully it will have prepared you for what you’re facing at Inter, a club with more directors, advisers and friends of friends than you can shake a stick at. Just ask Mancini, who rowed with most of them, including the club doctor, and is suing Inter for unfair dismissal. (Don’t feel too sorry for him, though, he is owed a payoff in the tens of millions of pounds).

Your predecessor turned Inter into a winning club. It wasn’t enough to keep his job. If you want to see out your three-year contract at the San Siro, that won’t be enough. You’ll have to turn Inter from a dysfunctional basketcase into a sane, rational unit. And not just with regards to the playing squad.

You wanted a challenge and by heck, you got it. Godspeed, José.

Journey to big time almost over

African talent normally makes it to Europe’s big leagues by way of France, Belgium or Scandinavia, places where immigration law is more lax. The rule of thumb — as one agent told me last month — is this: “You bring in ten, seven of them will be rubbish, a couple will find a place in a marginal league and if you’re lucky one of them will have a future as a top-flight player.”

And so it has happened that one of the more promising young players in Europe is likely to move to the big time by way of Benin, Moldova and Sweden. Razak Omotoyossi, left, the 22-year-old powerhouse from Helsingborg in Sweden, was born in Nigeria but fled violence and hunger to settle in nearby Benin. At the age of 20 he was acquired by Sheriff Tiraspol. For those who do not know, Tiraspol is a city in Moldova, the poorest country in Europe. Helsingborg somehow found him and took him to the Swedish league, where he hit 14 goals in 22 appearances last season, plus another eight in European competition.

His stock continues to rise, so expect him to turn up at a stadium near you soon. It does make you wonder, though, why, in this age of information and money, a talented youngster has to go via Tiraspol and Benin to make it as a professional.