What sort of manager would you be? by
Konk 9 Nov 2020 11:58After putting it off for years and making excuses, I have finally decided to become a football manager/head coach. With interviews in mind, I’ve been giving a bit of thought to what sort of manager I want to be, what sort of football I want my team to play, and how I can raise my profile within the game, even if things are going sh it on the pitch.
Managing style: Good natured, but don’t take the pi ss, because I will fight you, fine you, and fuc k you. You can call me ‘Konk’, and you can talk to me about anything - including problems with your privates - but the players need to listen and follow instructions. No players on social media, no sex videos, no Chelsea fans on the books (and I will find out if they are), no players going on holiday to anywhere full of divs, and no-one driving a silly car until they’ve won 80 international caps. Black boots — everyone wears black boots until they’ve won 80 caps. Other than that, crack-on.
Playing philosophy: Pace, pace, width and pace. Realistically, there’s a good chance I’ll be starting out with a team outside the Premier League, so I can’t go as technical as I’d like, initially. I’m gonna give youth a chance and sign some experienced older heads to play CB and CM. I’ll have two speed merchants up front, and 9st, 18 year old wizards on either wing. John Burridge in goal. Seven of the team will have been born at the local hospital and grown-up supporting the club. They get the club. The fans love it.
Pre-match talks: Play the Al Pacino bit from ‘Any given Sunday’ before every game even if it’s Morecombe at home in the League cup. ‘Gladiator’ at half-time along with Survivor's ‘Eye of the Tiger’ video, and CCTV footage of people scrapping in kebab shops and pub car parks etc to get everyone fired-up before derbies.
Before cup finals, get John Burridge to read out the whole of Shakespeare's Henry V in the changing room, and some local sea cadets to semaphore "[Insert name of club here] expects that every man will do his duty". Have a piper lead us out of the changing room and out into the tunnel.
Music on the coach: My music. Unless we win by four goals, in which case everyone gets to take it in turns to choose a song. Fish and chips and beer on the way back from away games. No headphones or looking at phones.
Christmas do: Local cricket club, buffet, I’ll stick £500 behind the bar, invite public sector workers, stevedores, miners and steeple-jacks to mingle with the players and coaching staff. We're part of the community. No fancy Dans and no fancy dress.
Affirmative messages stuck on walls everywhere:
Play to win. Win to play.
Outplayed, but never outfought.
Goals. Goals. Goals.
Clatter. Smash. Destroy.
It’s a sin, if you don’t whip it in.
Novelty seating: Graham Taylor with the soft-top dugouts at Watford. Marcelo Bielsa with his blue bucket. I’m drawn to either a rocking horse or a rocking chair. Probably go with the rocking horse.
Clothing: Brian Clough had his iconic green sweatshirt; I’m going with a balaclava. Whatever the weather, I’ll wear it on matchdays, at training, and in press conferences. All the fu cking time. I’ll be the Banksy of football, and the whole football world will speculate endlessly as to my real identity.
Tony Pullis had his baseball cap, and I’m going with a cowboy hat, but rather than having a sheriff’s badge on the front, it will have the club crest. Nice touch. I’m not going to wear training gear unless I’m at the training ground, and I’m not going to wear a suit unless it’s leading the team out at Wembley. I’m thinking smart and understated, so Smedley knitwear, Norse Project chino-y-things, white trainers and if it’s cold, I’ll wear my big NP winter coat and a vest.
Hair: Joe Bryan’s barnet. Obvs. Not that anyone will see it under the balaclava and cowboy hat.
PR/Relatability: When I’m appointed, I will talk about the working class, hard-working fanbase full of grafters, who live for their club in a way that no other fan base do. I will say this whether it’s Sunderland or St. Albans City. I will travel to games on public transport, on foot or by bike. No easing my way through the traffic in a £100k car for me. Partly because I can’t drive, but partly because I’m just an ordinary down-to-earth bloke. This will strike a man-of-the-people note. I will visit every school, hospital, pub, factory and community centre within twenty miles of the club to energise the fan base and tell them about my philosophy (pace, pace, width, and pace).
If any kid knocks on my door for an autograph, I will invite them in, give them some crisps and pop, and kick a ball about with them in the garden until it gets dark. I’ll then walk them home, and as we walk, I’ll hammer home the importance of working hard at school, respecting your parents and engaging in community work. Ten years later, they'll be making their debut for the first team, and this story will be all over the national media.
Tone in well-deserved victory: Magnanimous, humble, grateful; full credit to the players. The opposition were great too, a good side, and if the officials have a good game, I will give them credit as well; it’s a near impossible job.
Tone after flukey victory: We got lucky today. Opposition will be feeling hard done by. We need to improve.
Tone in narrow defeat: Magnanimous, gutted, honest, fans can be proud of the team.
Tone in heavy defeat: Magnanimous, gutted, take personal responsibility, one or two players could have done better (never name them) determined to improve, apologise to the fans.
Legacy: Hopefully a few promotions, championships, European nights, Wembley appearances, silverware, a redeveloped, sold-out stadium, new training ground, kids wearing balaclavas and cowboy hats as they kick about in the park - parents watching on in balaclavas and cowboy hats. A ring road named after me, a stand named after me, and kids named after me. Four Balloon D'or winners coming through the clubs academy. Maybe a statue in the local shopping centre too. I think that would be a job well done - I just want to get started now.