Jose Mourinho must take over the reins of an international team to relive his glory days

For much of the last decade, Jose Mourinho has resembled an aged and worn-out one-man band still living on the old hits. His audience just content tuning into his old hits and ignoring the barely chart-topping new hits. The dated Special One track — so ancient that it predated Youtube — the King of Scorn and Sarcasm numbers, or the Master of Jibe and Takedowns number.

There is nothing new or original, or even relevant. Or to put it is straighter, he is out of tune with the melodies of contemporary club football, his methods decadent. He simply does not excite, or intrigue, or even instigate. A few months away from his 61st birthday, the autumn seems to have set in, his fall from the elites of European football, all too evident.

Not that he would sink into oblivion. The turfs over the sand-dunes of Arabia could intoxicate him; an upper mid-table club in the top five of Europe could be weighing a move.

But it’s doubtful if he could ever scale the peaks he once had. The two Champions League titles, league wins in four different countries, numerous less sparkling trophies, genuine Mou-moments interspersed streaks of Mou-madness, all that seems a thing of the past, and adequate accomplishments to consider him as one of the greatest managers of all time in Europe, one who weighed success in points and medals, one who cared not so much about playing attractive football as about winning football.

He had once summed up his philosophy: “It’s not important how we play. If you have a Ferrari and I have a small car, to beat you in a race I have to break your wheel or put sugar in your tank.”

In his peak, he mastered the underdog race — the success of Porto and Inter Milan embodies this trait. But in recent years, he seems to have