The Third Leader: Special pleading

Well, well. A special one, indeed. Under intense pressure after some lacklustre performances, with votes of confidence glaringly absent, he maintained his dignity and spirit, and must have felt a great measure of vindication as copious tributes were offered yesterday.

But that's enough about Sir Ming. We talk, of course, about another man at the top of his profession, if not, currently, his game, renowned for his self-belief, his assurance, and his cerebral approach, all evident yesterday.

But that's enough about Mervyn King. For with all deference to Ming and Merv, the national conversation is presently dominated by Jose and his ended sway, banishing all other top talking points, such as the news that the Cheeky Girls have had breast enhancements, Kate Moss has ripped her dress, and Paris Hilton has been banned from the Munich Beer Festival amid fears that she will lower the tone, a considerable achievement, you will concede.

There hasn't, in short, been such general excitement since Jose's dog disappeared in May. You could tell how important it was: the Prime Minister paid tribute. Some will dismiss this as the usual, ever increasing, base-covering, knee-jerking guff, but that would be most unfair, to Jose.

What is it about him that so seizes the attention? The People's Game has a melodramatic quality of course, especially since it added exoticism and oodles of cash. But Jose brings to it the brooding intensity of a Brando, the eloquence of a Cantona, and a disdain unequalled in its magnificence since the late Kenneth Williams flared his nostrils. We say: don't go away, Jose!