You didn't need to be a soothsayer to see that Di Canio's reign would end in tears.

There is a Scott Adams cartoon strip in which Dilbert is bemoaning the fact that he can never remember a name after introductions. ‘Maybe I can use a word-association memory trick,’ he thinks. A new engineer offers his hand. ‘Hi,’ he says. ‘I’m Dee Alamo.’ The final frame shows Dilbert’s blank expression. A think bubble above his head reads: ‘Darn . . . nothing.’
It was much the same when Sunderland appointed Paolo Di Canio. If only there had been some clue, some sign that he was impossibly high-maintenance and unsuited for management at an elite level.
If only he had called his players stupid donkeys, or substituted his goalkeeper after 22 minutes, or invited his critics among the supporters to buy a season ticket with their local rivals. If only he had conducted a long-running feud with the management, threatened to walk out, walked out and then broke back in again in the small hours, forcing the club to change the locks.
VIDEO Scroll down to watch Paolo Di Canio being booed by own fans

The end of an era: Paolo Di Canio's brief reign as Sunderland boss came to its all-too inevitable conclusion

Painful viewing: Sunderland amassed just a point from a possible 15 this season, with Di Canio masterminding just three wins in 13 games

If only he had behaved in a way at Swindon Town that would, quite plainly, be ruinous at a major club, with all the added attention and adverse publicity such antics would bring. Of course, he did precisely this. He did everything listed above, and probably more, because what emerges is not usually the half of it.

There was no fire so small that Di Canio could not sprint towards it with a bucket of gasoline. He escaped widespread condemnation only because Swindon do not make headlines. It was obvious that once Di Canio’s behaviour was transported to a significant club, the repercussions would be significant also.

Hauled off: Di Canio hooked Wes Fotheringham (right) after just 22 minutes, branding the Swindon keeper 'arrogant' for his display at Preston

Wearing his heart on his sleeve: Di Canio reacts as Swindon lose to Oxford in March of last year

This is not being wise after the event. Last February, in a column about the possibility of Di Canio being a Premier League manager — he was being linked with West Ham United at the time — I wrote:

‘Di Canio’s passion play unfolding in the spotlight could have a ruinous effect on a smaller Premier League club . . . there is a method for achieving success in the Premier League and starring in your very own daily soap opera should never be part of that plan . . .

Premier League managers are as good as under surveillance. In the modern game so much is out of their control that if they go rogue too, the club can quickly descend into chaos . . .

At a smaller Premier League club, confidence and stability are key to survival. Di Canio is wonderful for those who like a show, but whether a leading club can afford to be part of his next psycho-drama is another matter entirely.’

I’m not Nostradamus, it just wasn’t hard to spot. Di Canio the manager had not greatly evolved from Di Canio the player.

Harry Redknapp’s forthcoming autobiography contains several pages of stories about Di Canio’s time at West Ham. All are told with fondness because Redknapp loves Di Canio and rates him as one of the best players he has worked with but, viewed dispassionately, each reveals a selfish personality that was not cut out for life as a high-profile coach.

Big fan: Harry Redknapp (left) is particularly fond of former charge Di Canio after bringing him to West Ham in 1999, alongside the late Marc-Vivien Foe (below)

There is the tale in which Di Canio reacts to mild criticism of his performance by aiming a gigantic barrel of Gatorade drink at a team-mate; the one in which he alone is reluctant to board a plane for an away match because he is not happy with its technical condition; the one where he sits down on the pitch and refuses to play on, in protest at having a succession of penalty appeals turned down.

This last story is among Redknapp’s favourites. In a recent Sky TV interview, his description of Di Canio asking to come off and, when ignored, squatting cross legged on the pitch, immobile, as the game went on around him was priceless.

The punchline is that the fans start singing his name, the ball comes near him, Di Canio rises, inspired, and goes on to win the match.

And that was the difference with this second act. Di Canio, the manager, didn’t have the wit to influence the game as he did as a player.

All Sunderland signed up for was histrionics and hysterics without the redeeming genius. Di Canio could still emote and pose like any old ham — hands on hips attempting a mute, self-serving empathy with the fans after his final game — but he did not have the smarts to be more.

Di Canio always knew what was wrong. He just didn’t know how to fix it. He would talk about the players being unable to defend, or being unfit, uncommitted or having rubbish in their heads, as if he was divorced from the problem.

Roman salute: Di Canio earned a one-game ban in 2005 for gesturing towards Lazio fans during the Rome derby

Fans' favourite: Lazio's supporters hoist polemic placards in 2002 during Di Canio's stint at West Ham. The text at the centre reads: 'My Lazio? 11 Paolo Di Canio'

There is a lot of this in football; a lot of failings identified as if that alone makes them go away. Marking a test paper with a giant F is not the same as educating.

And this is the person around whom Sunderland appeared to build a long-term strategy, with an Italian backroom staff, an Italian director of football and an Italian head of scouting, all at his service.

So, the crisis does not end here, with Di Canio sacked. Short-term managerial whims will affect any club if they are allowed to melt into long-term strategy and Sunderland are not out of the woods.
At Queens Park Rangers, Redknapp inherited the residue of the Neil Warnock era, mixed in with the remains of the Mark Hughes era, and then attempted further changes of his own. The next manager of Sunderland will be the third since March and must find a coherent team out of Martin O’Neill and Di Canio’s regimes. Can Sunderland then afford to indulge his choices, too?

Dedicated follower of fashion: Di Canio strips to his underwear after the 2005 Rome derby (above left), leaves West Ham training in 2002 (above right) and sports a natty jacket at Upton Park a year earlier (below)

Di Canio brought his backroom team with him, as is correct. There is little point employing a manager without also engaging his support network. The hierarchy of a club, however, should be above short-term projects. Sunderland claim the appointments of Di Canio, Roberto De Fanti (director of football) and Valentino Angeloni (head scout) were not linked, but it is too coincidental that all three share nationality.

A look at some of the names circulating as Di Canio’s replacement suggests options are therefore limited: Roberto Di Matteo was the prime candidate and on the short-list is Gianfranco Zola, another Italian, plus Paul Ince, who played in Italy and speaks the language, and Gus Poyet, who according to Zola learned Italian in six weeks during his time at Chelsea.

There were 14 players purchased in the summer and Sunderland must hope their new manager also shares ideas and values with the recruitment staff that made those recommendations.

Sunderland are not the first Premier League club to create a continental enclave but none did it around a coach as risky and temperamental as Di Canio. Arsene Wenger was plainly at Arsenal for the long haul and Rafael Benitez won the Champions League in his first season at Liverpool, making it probable he would stay to complete a very Spanish-led project.
One imagines Tottenham Hotspur see Andre Villas-Boas finishing what he started, now in the company of Franco Baldini. Yet was Di Canio ever going to last five or 10 years at Sunderland without imploding? How could the directors of the club be so unaware of the likely outcome? And how could they base a hierarchical strategy around the presence of a manager with such a record of instability?

Infamy: Di Canio pushes referee Paul Alcock after being shown a red card against Arsenal in 1998

Full-blooded: Di Canio celebrates scoring for Celtic against Rangers in 1997

Di Canio’s sacking, it is said, shows the distance between his regime and that of De Fanti and Angeloni. Yet it is unimaginable that they were not consulted, even if owner Ellis Short delivered the news to Di Canio, and chief executive Margaret Byrne took the calls from disgruntled players that precipitated the end.

So this was a face-saving exercise. The only way De Fanti and Angeloni remain in credit is if they can persuade the owner that the poor form this season is wholly down to the personality of the manager, not the quality of their signings.

As ever, the director of football has 10 years, the manager 10 matches.

It is a mess, and an avoidable one. Sunderland must now hope that Di Canio’s successor does not share his dismal view of the players De Fanti bought, or does not have another 14 good ideas of his own for the next transfer window.

For that is a dangerous road and quickly runs downhill all the way, as QPR discovered.