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If
anybody needed any help working out just why the job as England
coach is among the least enjoyable in the game, the last few weeks
have offered all the proof you need.
First up, there was the Big Phil fiasco, as Felipe Scolari was apparently
courted, appointed as boss, offered the job and then ruled out of
the running in a matter of hours - and in that slightly bizarre
order.
The Little Englanders aside – and there are millions of them
– for many the appointment of Scolari was a surprisingly astute
move. After all, a foreign coach makes sense for any nation doesn’t
it?
You can’t get players of a different nationality to play for
you – unless you’re the Republic of Ireland – so
if you get a home grown coach as well, you’re immediately locked
into a nationalistic stereotyped style of play.
This is fine if your stereotype happens to be Brazilian, but if
you’re of a more staid, north European bent, reinforcing it
does little good. Surely a coach should bring new influences to
bear?
That’s where Sven has been the biggest disappointment, though
it’s hardly his fault. As a Swede, his footballing temperament
isn’t wholly divorced from the British model, so he rarely
had anything too surprising to say.
But having edged into continental waters, the idea of Scolari was
an invigorating, exciting one, especially given that Arsenal’s
David Dein, on the selection committee, was doing his damnedest
to ensure Arsene never got near the job.
Scolari was going the whole hog, and about time too. Until he got
savaged by the British media, digging for skeletons in his cupboard,
raking through his private life and sitting outside his flat waiting
for a glimpse of the England manager in waiting.
He also had to listen to the likes of Gary Lineker rubbishing his
achievements, saying his Granny could have managed Brazil to the
World Cup – there was also more chance of her having the balls
to do it than Gary himself, given his refusal to go into coaching
after hanging up his boots. After all that, the man from Sao Paolo,
he say “No.”
All and sundry then turned their fire on the FA for bungling the
appointment, but it’s hard to see just how they got it wrong,
given that part of filling a vacancy consists of talking to candidates.
And had the press not been tipped off about Brian Barwick’s
trip to Portugal by a fellow passenger – Steve McClaren maybe
– most of the furore could have been avoided. Scolari would
have taken the job, or not, and the process would have moved quietly
on. No big deal. But having exposed the FA’s number one choice,
the press then delighted in being scandalised that the process hadn’t
been kept secret. No wonder Scolari was happy to avoid them.
After this, whoever got the job would inevitably be tarnished with
the tag of “second choice”. In the real world, where we’re
a bit more grown up about this kind of thing, that’s pretty
normal.
Many, maybe most, of us are now in jobs where we weren’t necessarily
first choice. Some of us know that, some are blissfully unaware.
But it’s ludicrous to imagine that as soon as anyone is offered
a job, they take it. People do turn jobs down. So whoever gets it
is second choice, maybe third or fourth. And sometimes, they’re
every bit as good or better than the first choice. It really doesn’t
matter does it?
Not to Steve McClaren. In a lot of ways, he should have been first
choice anyway. After all, he’s been part of Sven’s coaching
staff for years, appointed to on the general understanding that
this was the way to groom the next England manager.
Having done a solid job as Middlesbrough boss for the last few years,
he seemed a reasonable bet until Boro embarked on a bad run earlier
this season. Ten poor games and suddenly, he was out of the picture
because the press labelled him a failure.
A couple of startling UEFA Cup comebacks later, and McClaren is
suddenly a genius, a tactical mastermind and a motivator extraordinaire.
After a couple of results. I’m not quite sure which was the
more ridiculous conclusion to have drawn.
And then to Sven. Beset by injuries, he does the one thing that
his detractors have been demanding ever since he got the job. He
shows some imagination and selects teenager Theo Walcott, just 17
and without a competitive game since he moved to Arsenal from Southampton
in January. But Wenger doesn’t sign too many duds and the youngster
has already shown good technique in his games at Southamptron.
He has electrifying pace, an eye for goal and a very level head.
In other words, he’s not far short of what Michael Owen was
in 1998 when both of his legs still worked. With Rooney and Owen
both highly doubtful, England need a secret weapon. Walcott is it.
It might work, it might not, but it’s a ballsy choice to take
him.
In the death throes of his leadership, Sven might just have found
his nerve. And given our press, maybe that’s the only time
you can make a big decision rather than the safe one – when
you’re on the way out and you don’t have a job to protect
any longer.
Meanwhile, the comical newspaper “We’re backing our boys
in Germany” goes into full hysterical overdrive. As Michael
Franti used to say, “Hypocrisy is the greatest luxury”.
And England can’t afford it any more.
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