Out of the Fying Pan,Into the Mire ; That Gruelling Desert Trek Must Feel Like a Walk in the Park Now As Le Guen Swaps Ibrox Hell for Relegation Dogfight at Psg

Summary

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AT some stage during his 151-mile slog through the Moroccan desert with his feet in pieces, his head fit to explode and the sun frying his skin like bacon on a griddle, Paul le Guen must have consoled himself with the thought that nothing in the season could possibly be 'worse than this'.

After the Marathon des Sables, 10 months of football should have beckoned like earplugs during a Tony Blair speech.

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Extract

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Out of the Fying Pan,Into the Mire ; That Gruelling Desert Trek Must Feel Like a Walk in the Park Now As Le Guen Swaps Ibrox Hell for Relegation Dogfight at Psg

However, if you tot up his sporting dishevelment, failure and departure from Ibrox, his flirtation with relegation at PSG, the continuing financial uncertainty at his French club, the deeply controversial death of a PSG supporter at the hands of the French riot police and ...

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