Contender number 1: Nigel Pearson (currently 3/1 according to SkyBet)
Frankly, you would fear for the chairman were he to be thrown into the ring against this old school PE teacher who would no doubt unceremoniously chuck you into the shower and care not a jot that you had forgotten your towel AND ensure the water was freezing cold so much as look at you.
If Pearson can scare off five vicious dogs in the Carpathian Mountains, he has little to fear from a Kuwaiti football owner. Indeed, he's more likely to wrestle him to the floor, hit him with a headlock and then drag him to his feet with a broad but highly threatening smile - a smile that says 'Come near me again. I dare you. I double-dare you motherfunker.'
Contender number 2: Nigel Clough (4/1)
Nigel is unlikely to indulge in such banterous or boisterous behaviour as candidate number 1. This nice young man with a lovely smile seems way too polite and well bought up to sully himself in such tawdry behaviour.
But this is a simplistic interpretation.
Given the number of times he was clattered from behind by a burly 80s defender like Brian Kilkline, young Nige is seemingly immune to pain. Like a hyperactive Jack-in-the-Box, he'd keep bouncing up for more, no matter how many times Fawaz wagged a finger in his face. Indeed, Nigel knows a few things about the dark arts himself and can administer a cheeky knee to the back of a leg like the best of em.
Failing that, should he ever get irritated by the owner, he is well within his rights to drag him out onto the pitch and remind him of the name striding proudly atop the biggest stand. He could then drag him by his ear through the corridors and into the main reception and make him stare at the bronze bust. Just for good measure, a trip to the boardroom to stare at the two European Cups too. He might then invite Fawaz to lean in close...closer...just close enough to hear the words, "Clough. Remember the name".
In short, young Clough can look after himself.
Candidate Number 3: Billy Davies (6/1)
Good. Moving on then.
Candidate Number 4: Neil Lennon (6/1)
Beneath the bark and the bite, there lingers a suspicion that Lennon might not be half as hard as he thinks he is. Sure, he growls, points and scowls with hubris and panache but if it really came down to it and fisticuffs were required, would he be the one you'd want alongside you?
One fears that he's more likely to sulk in a corner with new highs of obstreperousness to match those of a boy who's failed to win Pass The Parcel at his own 5th birthday party. One suspects Fawaz would be happy to leave him to write rude obscenities on the wall for as long as he wants and simply slip a P45 under the windscreen wiper of his car until he's good and ready to think about what he's done.
Candidate Number 5: Roy Keane (10/1)
Keane's recent evolution into Gerry Adams or a reformed roadie for a 70s psychedelia band - your choice - is fooling no one into thinking he couldn't bring you down with so much as a sideways ways glance of pure ire and venom. Those narrow eyes speak can unleash more fear into a fellow human than the thought of five minutes in a cell with Dutch from Predator who has missed the chopper thanks to you fumbling about in your rucksack for a cloth to wipe your glasses.
Candidate Number 6: Martin O'Neill (16/1)
No raised voices. No slamming of doors. Just long, reflective and nuanced discourse until Fawaz finally agreed that firstly, crop rotation methods such as those implemented by the Dutch in the 18th century deserve more recognition and secondly, a tall, experienced target man really would make a substantial difference to the side and have it challenging for the top two come Easter.
Fawaz would then write out a cheque. Possibly two.
Candidate Number 7: Tim Sherwood (16/1)
One imagines Sherwood might well adopt the 'buddy' approach were he to be allowed to take the reins. He'd likely swan in, offer out one of those footballer's high clasp handshake things as a way of a greeting, sit down in Fawaz's chair, light a big cigar and ruminate on how, "You've got a nice little club here, mate. Together, well have the league wrapped up by Christmas."
Initially, Fawaz would probably lap this up and post numerous pics on various forms of social media showing him and his bezzie - arms wrapped around each other's shoulders - grinning cheekily and offering bug thumbs-up after initial success in the sunny month of August.
By September, there'd be just one pic posted.
By October, They'd have unfollowed and unfriended.
By November, there would be blocks.
By December, the only form of communication between the two would be though their respective 'people'.
By Boxing Day, Tim would be exiting the training ground premises with significantly less chutzpah than the manner with which he first entered:
Here's Tim Sherwood opening a door in the most Tim Sherwood way to open a door ever - https://t.co/Y5g6kAH8Lw— Mundial Magazine (@MundialMag) July 6, 2015
Of course, all of the above is pure conjecture and speculation of the highest order. Apart from Martin requesting funds for a tall, experienced target man - that's highly likely.