When Louis Van Gaal was jettisoned in favour of Jose Mourinho – a coach whose own tenure will inevitably implode in just a few years – one of the few remaining pillars of managerial stability fell.
A record 54 managers were sacked in English football this season but no sooner had the League of Managers Association chief executive, Richard Bevan, called for owners to create a more ‘stable environment’ for coaches, than Watford appointed their seventh boss in just four years.
While speaking about the imminent arrival of the ‘Special One’ at Old Trafford, former Manchester United player, Phil Neville said: “The pressure of football management and demands from owners and supporters and media now means two to three years in a job is enough.”
In an equally troubling statement from Quique Sanchez Flores, who departed Vicarage Road after just one year, having guided the Hornets to safety in their maiden Premier League campaign, he declared, “my job is absolutely complete.”
Perhaps the more nostalgic supporters among us will forever eulogise about the dynasties of Shankly and Ferguson, meanwhile, Wenger’s tenure at Arsenal is more commonly used as a stick with which to beat the Gunners than to hold them aloft.
If ‘longevity’ has become an obsolete measure of a good manager, how might we best hope to judge them today?
All that glitters is not gold
The current demand for instant results lends itself to the notion that ‘success’ be the definitive, if not obvious, factor – but then, how is success to be defined?
The gulf in terms of resources between the few sides with an embarrassment of riches and everybody else – operating within a wildly under-regulated free market – has long since un-evened the playing field.
Claudio Ranieri’s Leicester are deservingly resigned to footballing folklore for their improbable siege on the league title this season, but in retrospect; the sheer size of the achievement also serves to reinforce the now inherent disparity in the game.
The Ranieri Anomaly is intriguing nonetheless, as few would agree that the manager responsible for arguably the greatest premier league title of all; is the greatest premier league manager – it being his first top-flight title in almost 30 years as a professional coach.
In fact, while Ranieri has been successful in abolishing the convention that managerial pedigree is paramount; his feat may yet become the catalyst for further casualties as it is used to rationalise the distorted expectations of the chasing pack.
How do you even begin to compare the efforts of Sean Dyche at Burnley, promoted twice in three seasons, with that of Ronald Koeman’s steady march towards Europe with Southampton?
In relative terms, is Sam Allardyce leading Sunderland’s great escape from relegation more or less valuable that Louis Van Gaal’s FA Cup triumph?
If success was tantamount to silverware, then the rewards for a strong finish in the league would not dwarf the acclaim of a domestic cup – the ‘Fourth Place Trophy’ has long since been cast.
Good guys finish last
Nevertheless, we cannot hope to arrive at a conclusive definition of a good manager without also knowing what makes a bad one.
In Mourinho’s last stint in charge of Chelsea, he managed to publicly humiliate his medical staff, alienate loyal servants of the club, concoct conspiracy theories and leave the reigning Premier League champions, flirting with relegation.
Fast-forward six months, and he is on the verge of securing the biggest job in English football.
What’s more, in a bewildering statement on the sacking of his predecessor, chief executive Ed Woodward thanked LVG for his “excellent work in the past two years” – in what other industry would ‘excellent work’ result in termination?
As longevity becomes synonymous with stagnation rather than stability, and while success (and failure) appears to have a minimal impact on the trajectory of a manager’s career; The LMA’s appeal for clubs to restore a sense of calm is likely to fall on deaf-ears.
Perhaps, we must concede that neither is such a rational justification possible, nor is it necessary, as the actions of club owners, CEO’s and board members rarely exhibit any grounding in sporting rationale.
Style over substance
English football is the biggest global employer of managers and coaches, meaning owners are spoilt for choice when looking for a replacement.
From the debonair statesman who smirks nonchalantly and applauds in slow-motion, lest he crease either his clean-shaven cheek or his plush three-button-suit, to the blue-collar coach who pulls at the club’s crest on his monogram tracksuit as he darts down the touchline to celebrate in a heap with his players.
Whether the iron fist or iron tulip, escape artist or lightning rod, patriarch or caretaker is required – managers are typecast quicker than Hollywood stars and are consequently at the mercy of the wavering desires and ambitions of their employers.
Of the aforementioned 54 coaches that were canned across English football’s top four divisions this season, only five are now back in work – the old merry-go-round may feel much more like a roller-coaster with treacherously loose restraints.
The problem is perhaps illustrated perfectly in the latest development at the ‘Theatre of Dreams’, where it is reported that negotiations over Jose Mourinho’s image rights are delaying him in being unveiled as the new Manchester United manager.
OK, it actually pertains rather to the fact that Chelsea registered his name and signature to push sales of anything from toiletries to jewellery.
But a manager’s image is now as desirable as his philosophy, perhaps even more so, as the rate at which they are hired and fired means they are more often the new face of an on-going project than the brains behind it.
Ultimately, we arrive at the inescapable conclusion that just as we can question the pedigree, personality, and performance of a manager – so too can their bosses.
Football is littered with opinions, but as Mr Bevan is right to concede; without an objective set of rules on how clubs must operate, owners will continue to call the shots and pull the trigger, whenever they want to.
Instead of calling for a cease-fire, the LMA may want to preserve its voice; I fear they will need it to warn members to ‘DUCK’ even more often next season.
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