"The Modern Manager"

I'm all for the evolution and modernization of the game.

* forbid we ever go back to footballs weighing 20 Stone, shorts up to the nipples, blatant referee corruption and TV commentary delivered by a Downtown Abbey manservant.

The modern player surpasses his predecessors by country miles. Players are no longer filling their off time in the pubs and clubs. Players are now 24 hour athletes, technically conditioned and tactically astute. Yes yes, the modern player has a penchant for diva like tantrums and is limelight craving manchild. But the difference in athleticism and prowess is evident. It may be harsh to say, but Ange Postecoglous domestic champions would run rings around Jock Steins Lisbon Lions.

The modern manager however, is wholly loathsome beast.

Over the past decade, the transformation of "the gaffer" to "dugout douche" has become simply intolerable. No manager in the game epitomises this metamorphosis more than Brendan Rodgers.
A man so ruthlessly ambitious and self consumed, that his televised interviews are completely unwatchable. His own personal transformation from chubby, balding Liverpool manager with a wife and kids, to muscular, toned, white toothed Celtic manager with a hot girlfriend, was all too indicative of a mid life crisis. The only thing that was missing was a convertible porche, and perhaps a spray tan.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with self improvement.
It's 2022. No one is suggesting that managers should be stockpiling cholesterol in their viens, chewing on Wrigley's and dressing like a used car salesman.

But the accompanying hubris of the modern manager has become a epidemic of plastic Jose Mourinhios in designer coats, desperate for attention and myopic in their pursuit of it.

In a bygone age, if a journalist dared question the tactics of a manager, he would be roughly escorted out of the press conference an furnished with a very real threat of violence, should be return without an apology. Managers had more respect given to them.
The modern manager on the other hand, sees such instances of impertinence as an opportunity to showcase their tactical awareness and forward thinking.
A manager of the old guard would never have been so open about sharing his tactical battle plans or divulging player preferences. But the suited and booted managers of the modern age throw around tactical rationale at press conferences like confetti at a D-Day parade.
For instance, all of Scottish football was left scratching it's collective head when, in response to a very innocuous tactical enquiry from a Sevco friendly journalist, Pedro Caixinha, proceeded to shuffle glasses of water around his table like a half drunk carnival magician, desperate to showcase his forward thinking managerial credentials. He looked truly idiotic.

Indeed, the rise of another young Portuguese manager in the early 2000's is entirely to blame for all of this.
Jose Mourinhio burst onto the scene in a tsunami of success and media savvy soundbites. He gave the football world something entirely new. A manager with actual swagger.
None of the gum chewing, whiskey nosed hairdrying of Alex Ferguson. Nor the hawkish disdain and aloof superiority of Arsene Wenger. He was young, handsome, well dressed, media minded, tactically gifted, and of course, very, very charismatic. Fans and the media simply couldn't get enough.

What followed was an avalanche of cheap facsimiles, all desperate for a slice of the attention. Tracksuits and suits were replaced with white open collar shirts and designer long coats. Whispers to assistants became headline grabbing tantrums at anyone within swinging distance, and of course, run of mill post match media interviews became a cacophony of idiotic soundbites and sardonic replies, serving no other purpose than to make the evening news and by extension, raise the profile of the manager.
Even simple tried and tested man management strategies have gone by the wayside. Pre 2000's, if a player was underperforming, or perhaps needed motivation, a manager would simply drop them from the starting eleven. Worse still, if they complained about it, they'd find themselves putting out the cones for the academy kids.
The modern manager hands out sealed envelopes in some bizarre and ill thought out gambit to garner psychological kudos in a future biography, a la Brendan Rodgers. Or makes his team sit in a kindergarten singing circle pitchside, whilst giving them a very public dressing down a la Phil Brown.
I remember being personally horrified by the inclusion of a now notorious Neil Lennon calendar in the Celtic Superstore. A Neil Lennon calendar. A truly mindboggling attempt by Celtic plc to put the manager on equal pop culture footing as the players under him.
No child was waking up Christmas morning, delighted to find Neil Lennon posing like a virginal prom queen in a park to mark the month of December.
Likewise, no child today tosses aside his replica shirt, puts on an armani suit, makes for the local park and declares to his friends "I'm Pep Guardiola".
But this hasn't stopped a slew of young, upstart post graduates queuing up to get their coaching badges, despite most of them never kicking a ball in anger, nevermind kicking a ball in a professional setting. In World War 1 they were referred to as Arm Chair General's. Men of wealth an position, who had never fired a shot in combat, sending thousands to their deaths in poorly conceived battle plans, in vain hopes of a victory. Military institutions have since done away with such elitism. After all , how can a leader of soldiers understand a battlefield having never set foot on one?
In parallel, how can so many Modern Managers hope to lead their teams to fulfil their own lofty ambitions, without ever strapping on a shin guard? Because Jose Mourinhio did it of course. If he can do it, why can't I?

This stark contrast of new and old has been further highlighted this week by the appointment of Michael "Mick" Beale at The Rangers Football club.
The furore surrounding his appointment has been met by starkly contrasting views and accusations.
After all, how could he turn down such an offer, from such a "big club". The other side of the debate is those who see Beales motivations for what they so obviously are.
When Wolves came calling at QPR, Beale was desperate to put himself front and centre for the media narrative.
Having actually spoken to Wolves, any actual forward thinking manager would've distanced himself from the whole affair as much as possible. The optics alone are problematic; "he was about to jump ship, but didn't like the deal, so he's staying for now."
But media minded Mick fancies himself alot smarter than the QPR fans. There he was, offering up his body and soul for the Queen's Park cause, lamenting his fate as a martyr for progress at QPR, the saviour they never knew they had, a paradigm of loyalty and integrity. It was reported widely that Neil Banfield had made several return trips to Home Depot, as little Micky kept running out of wax for his cross.
In point of fact, the evident hypocrisy of his turnaround surpasses even that of Brendan Rodgers' midnight run to Leicester, or Steven Gerrard's "do I look happy" soundbite from the window of his getaway car.
Both managers were roundly criticised and lampooned in the Scottish press for the manner of ship jumping escapades. But little Micky's dark arts seem to be too strong for the Sevco minded media to resist. But that's another story altogether.

At last we arrive at the current Celtic manager. Ange Postecoglou.
Somewhat controversially, I'm in complete agreement with Talksport's resident rabble rouser, Simon Jordan. These "* managers" do indeed "need to earn their stripes". Ange Postecoglou has certainly done that. Despite the intense media scrutiny, here is a manager who has coached and managed at every level. World Cup and UEFA Champions league now included too.
There's none of the mealy mouthed platitudes of the modern manager. No posturing for the cameras, or dropping of "truth bombs" in interviews.
No designer coats and Rolex watches.
Ange Postecoglous conducts himself impeccably on the touchline and in the press room. Dressed like an ex military merc in a simple black pullover, his only concern is how his team looks, not how he does.

Ange Postecoglous conducts himself exactly as a manager should. He's here for the football. Nothing else.
Media Muppets like Hugh Keevins and Keith Jackson ridiculously questioned not only his managerial credentials, but also his capacity to deal with the intense media scrutiny in Scotland. They've obviously never walked down a crowded street in Japan as a Gaijin, or managed at a World Cup before.
Ange took it in stride. There's was no desperate attempts to placate the media and endear himself to them. No SkySports Q&A to soothe the nerves of a anxiety addled support. No glass shuffling press conferences.

If one requires evidence or example of Ange Postecoglous priorities, look no further than his pre match presser before his sides Champions League fixture against Shakhtar Donesk; when an overzealous * with the press decided to make a headline grab at the managers expense.
The aforementioned "journalist" grilled Postecoglou on why Parkhead ticket pricing, and why Celtic Football Club had not garnered Ukrainian refugees with free tickets for the game.
To the modern manager, this is catnip. He has two options. Either shut the question down in a firestorm of controversy. Or, more in keeping with his need to be favourably noticed, fill the air with anti war sentiment and world peace platitudes.

Postecoglou, did neither.

"I respect the question and you obviously did a lot of research into your question.

But you would have also realised before asking that question how much time and thought process I have in the ticketing when I'm preparing a team for a Champions League match or any manager for that matter.

So I think you asked that question to be mischievous. I think if you wanna ask that question and you have a real sort of desire to get an answer there's a more appropriate person to answer that question than me.".

Stunned silence...
Mic drop...
Exit stage left.

The "journalist" had obviously no idea that Postecoglou was not a "modern manager", nor had he ever watched a pre or post match interview with the man. Having doing so, he would have concluded that the only headline he would get, would be how he himself, got his pants pulled down by a football manager.
And even more jarring, had he properly done his research, as Postecoglou adeptly alluded to, he would have realised the historical links between Shakhtar and Russian governments, making such a question redundant.

Ange Postecoglou is not a man out of time. But a man apart.
His only focus is the squad. His words are measured to avoid controversy and debate. His pressers are geared entirely to the subject of the game. His touchline presence is nuanced and purposeful. His personal ambitions are weathered by practicality and actual integrity. A consummate professional.

A true paradigm of "The Modern Manager".

Forget a European Cup. Build him a statue for that alone.

 

Apologies, I have COVID, I like to rant when bored lol.


Xo

 

Brilliant post, but hey! Go easy on the soft top Porsche criticism!

 

Great rant. I too loathe the modern manager. I really dislike the way they court media attention and the way they always place their own personality front and centre. I watched an hour-long interview with Eddie Howe on YT the other day, where he went in to all his struggles, woes, beliefs, aspirations, etc. Incredibly cringe, glad as * that Ange does none of that.

I think, in fairness though, that Ange does possess one feature of the modern manager, which is the 'football philosophy'. He's got a very specific way he wants the team to play that doesn't necessarily take account of the players at his disposal, the opposition on the park, or often even the scoreline. I like attacking football but not at all costs and I know it winds some others up at times as well. The all-or-nothing football philosophy is a hallmark of the modern manager, whereas ruthless pragmatism is the hallmark of an old-school manager.

At least he's not bleaching his teeth, hitting the tanning beds, or Tweeting about this and that * though, so all told he's a good egg in my book.

 

Lol.

A "good egg".

Love that phrase.

And yes, our Ange is certainly a good egg.

 

Arteta is another typical modern manager. He genuinely care much more about his looks than the game it self. Doing alright though, but still worth a mention.

 

Highly enjoyable read...bravo

 

Great read, pal. Hope the covid isn't too nasty.