The Savage Truth: Why I Crave More Criticism from Simon Jordan

Simon Jordan, the former Crystal Palace chairman, has stirred up quite a storm lately, and it seems he's not shy about expressing his frustrations with the opinions of others. As football's culture of outrage reaches new heights, the pundit continues to make waves, and I’m here for it. Writing about this has been a rollercoaster. Sure, it’s been tough and intense at times, but it’s also been thrilling and invigorating. That’s right—I was absolutely SAVAGED by Simon Jordan, and let me tell you, it’s a feeling like no other. For those who don’t know, Simon Jordan is a familiar face in football. After his time owning Crystal Palace, he’s become quite the engaging pundit on TalkSport, tackling serious subjects with his trademark bluntness. His perspective is clear: the world needs a wake-up call, and more often than not, he’s spot on. Oddly enough, I actually like Simon Jordan. His morning radio show with Jim White is a staple for me, and I appreciate his insights, especially given his experience running a football club. Sure, he’s dealt with some controversial figures like Steve Bruce and Iain Dowie, but in the grand scheme of things, he knows the game. I can’t help but chuckle at his unique presentation. He often appears on screen looking like a powdered aristocrat from the 17th century, a glamorous little puppet that I can’t help but admire. It’s not a romantic admiration—more like a playful fondness. He has a way of expressing himself that’s reminiscent of Jackie Chiles from Seinfeld, always ready to declare something outrageous or egregious, and somehow, he makes his point stick, even if it’s unexpected. Now, you’re probably curious about the incident that got me “savagely” critiqued. It happened during the Croatia versus England match in Rijeka. The game was supposed to be played behind closed doors due to previous trouble, including some fans making Nazi salutes. However, the Croatian FA found a loophole and filled the stands with children, which felt, well, a bit off. I still struggle to understand the defense of this decision. Sure, children are a joy, but they shouldn’t be a shield against criticism, especially when the backdrop is so serious. I’ve always believed that kids are our future, but they aren’t a magic wand to erase the gravity of the situation. The counterargument seems to suggest that caring about such issues is just “woke nonsense.” But let’s not forget: we’re discussing actual Nazis here, a group that should never be taken lightly. The more I hear about their ideologies, the less appealing they seem. This week, the sight of Hajduk Split fans marching with a coffin while chanting “Auschwitz” only adds fuel to the fire. Are we really okay with this? If we need ten thousand kids to rectify the message, maybe we’re missing the point entirely. In these moments, Simon Jordan’s outbursts can feel overwhelming. It’s like he’s bulldozing through with a mega-stroller, shouting about the children, and I’m caught in the crossfire. It’s bizarre how social media can suck you into this whirlwind of commentary. Ironically, I wasn’t even the main target that day; I was merely collateral damage. The algorithm is relentless, and I’m already seeing more of Simon Jordan’s fiery exchanges pop up in my feed. His latest spar with Dale Vince about Robbie Savage is just one example of this ongoing spectacle. What’s truly fascinating is how addictive this kind of discourse can be. There’s a reason for that—immense resources are dedicated to making it captivating. David Squires recently illustrated this phenomenon in a brilliant cartoon about the rise of celebrity football talk shows, highlighting the endless chatter that keeps us all hooked.