As for the Italian, he must feel he has stepped into a house of mirrors, where slightly different versions of the same blazer-clad figure press in on him from all directions. No wonder the news of Massimo Moratti's interest in appointing him as José Mourinho's successor at Internazionale was not met at the weekend with a flat denial of interest.

So yet again, as the subject of Capello's future muddies the waters during the build-up to the World Cup, we are presented with evidence that very little in English public life is more predictable than the ability of the FA to trip over its own bootlaces. Presented with the opportunity to steer the world's most popular game to success and prosperity in the most helpful of environments, generation after generation of administrators persist in finding new ways of courting ridicule, humiliation and disgrace.

Today's blazer-wearers are the descendants of the people who, on the eve of England's quarter-final against Argentina in 1966, ordered Alf Ramsey to drop Nobby Stiles, the perpetrator of a particularly bad tackle in the preceding match, against France. "If he goes," Ramsey responded, "I go." Both stayed. A week later, no doubt the FA men and their ladies enjoyed the champagne at their World Cup victory banquet.

This time, given the apparently robust state of Wayne Rooney's anatomy, something else had to come along to disrupt the preparations, and the speculation over the manager's post-tournament future seems to be doing the job nicely. Now Capello is trapped between pledging a loyalty with which he may not feel entirely comfortable and potentially undermining the campaign by announcing his decision to accept Moratti's offer – which allegedly amounts, lest we forget, to about £9m a year after tax, or around three times his current salary.

Even after a lifetime immersed in the far murkier politics of Italian football, Capello must have found himself bemused as the stumbling exit of Brian Barwick, the man whose overtures brought him to England, was followed by the sudden departure of the FA's first independent chairman, Lord Triesman. In between those leaving parties came one for Ian Watmore, Barwick's successor as chief executive, who lasted barely a year in the job before giving up in frustration over his employers' refusal to carry out necessary reforms.

In their haste to announce the agreement to delete the get-out clause from Capello's contract of employment, which had allowed him to leave after the World Cup, halfway through his four-year deal, the FA quite characteristically got ahead of themselves. The subsequent round of musical chairs meant that no one actually got around to turning the verbal agreement into a piece of paper bearing legal weight. Hence Moratti's delight at discovering that an approach could be made. Instead of being able to trumpet their manager's pledge of loyalty, the FA looked naive.

However optimistic the assurances that may be made, it is difficult to see anything good coming out of this affair. By appointing another foreign manager with a record of frequent movement, the FA have put themselves at the mercy of market forces over which they have no control, and they may discover that Capello's emotional attachment to England is significantly less than that of Sven-Goran Eriksson. As usual, they have no one to blame but themselves for this distraction from the squad's attempts to turn the promise of the qualifying campaign into fulfilment in the final stages.

Asked one day about the accommodation arrangements for a forthcoming England match, Ramsey responded: "The players will be staying at the Hilton. So will I. I don't know where the FA officials are staying. They are nothing to do with me." Capello is probably starting to know how he felt.