Post by abs on Sept 12, 2010 14:54:42 GMT
www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/article-1311151/Piers-Morgan-Just-England-job-Harry-Redknapp.html
Fabio Capello is a dead man walking. Sorry, but that’s what happens when a boss tells everyone he’s going to leave. It doesn’t matter if the exit is now, or in two years’ time when his contract is up. Once employees know their leader is off, everything changes.
I’ve seen it with politicians, editors, business leaders, headmasters and the military. And the reason is simple: why should anyone take orders from someone who’s not going to be there much longer?
It’s not as if England’s players like Capello much to start with. I’ve spoken to a few of them privately and they think he’s dictatorial, tactically old-fashioned and boasts the communication skills of a deaf mute.
The vultures are circling: Fabio Capello announcement that he plans to retire in two years' time can only mean one thing...
He’s also, in their cold, calculatingly professional eyes, guilty of the worst crime of all in football management — he’s a loser. Our appalling performance at the World Cup proved that for all the pre-hyped bluster, Capello is not as good as we, or he, thought he was.
It was like opening a bottle of Chateau Latour 1961 and discovering it’s corked. Everyone’s told you how brilliant it’s going to be, you start to get excited, then reality kicks in and you discover it has the bouquet of a rotting slab of Camembert.
And once an England manager is ‘corked’, there is no way back for him.
The main problem with Capello, as I keep saying, is that he’s not English. Foreign managers work well at Premier League clubs because most of the squads are foreign, too. But stick them in charge of an English-only team and it just doesn’t work. It didn’t with smooth, quiet Sven and it isn’t with hard, nasty Fabio.
The best England managers have been the guys who speak the same language as their players and I mean metaphorically as well as literally.
Terry Venables was brilliant because he looked, dressed, walked and talked like his players. The much underrated Glenn Hoddle was the same. And the late, great Sir Bobby Robson had a fantastic understanding of the English footballer’s mentality.
Capello doesn’t seem to have a clue. He demands all this discipline, yet, since he took over, the England team’s behaviour has descended into an almost collective well of depravity. I can rarely remember so many scandals engulfing the national team and it’s not a coincidence.
After being locked up in Capello’s prison camps, they must be desperate for some fun. That’s why we need an English manager and we need one fast. One who knows that home-grown players react best to the carrot and the stick — to hard work and letting their hair down — but who also know where to draw the line and who don’t want to disappoint the boss.
Building a successful team is about creating the right spirit. The players must want to die for their country. To create that spirit, the manager has to prod, poke, laugh, joke, encourage, rant, backslap and, occasionally, let the boys chuck vintage champagne all over his best suit. A kind of Mike Bassett character, only slightly more cerebrally blessed.
If the Football Association want to have any chance of England winning anything in the next few years, they’ve got to stop hiding their fat, overpaid heads in the sand and do something fast.
Capello has said he’s going, so speed things up, get rid of him now and give the job to the one guy out there who not only wants it the most but who would get the best out of the players: Harry Redknapp. He’s Mike Bassett with brains.
==============================
I am aghast at some experienced commentators warning Frank Lampard that his England job might not be safe.
The Chelsea star was one of the few players who didn’t disgrace himself in South Africa and has been the driving force behind his club’s current dominance of the Premier League in recent years.
Nobody works harder, or gives more, than Lampard. He’d be first choice on my England teamsheet and should be on everyone else’s.
================================
The Fergie of old wouldn't have put up with Wayne's shenanigans
There is always one line in every kiss-and-tell story that says everything you need to know about the subject.
David Mellor, for example, would have emerged from the wreckage of his affair with Antonia de Sancha reasonably OK were it not for the allegation that he wore a Chelsea shirt during their romps.
And while I chuckled my way through Wayne Rooney’s spectacularly inevitable booze-and-hooker expose, the one claim that snapped the eyelids back was about him paying £200 for a pack of Marlboros. If ever proof was needed that young Wayne has lost the plot, surely this was it?
For all his faults, I always had Rooney down as a working-class lad who loved his family and wasn’t susceptible to the usual shenanigans of English footballers. But it turns out he’s as bad as the rest.
Now we know why he has not been scoring goals for Manchester United and why he had such a dismal World Cup. Like Tiger Woods, Rooney’s focus appears to have drifted from the God-given talent that made him a superstar to a crazed lust for wanton misbehaviour. What fascinates me is where Sir Alex Ferguson has been in all this.
The old Fergie would have known what his star striker was up to in Manchester hotels. His legendary army of spies would have called him the moment Rooney was spotted on the razz. And he’d have responded with blind fury, fining Rooney massively, sending him to the reserves and kicking the hapless sleazeball in the goolies as he fled from his office.
But there’s been a deafening silence from the great man so far. ‘I’m not discussing any of my players’ private lives,’ he insisted, before dropping Rooney yesterday to protect him from taunts about his private life. A decision that may have cost United victory at Everton. When you can’t play your top striker for reasons connected to his private life, then that private life ceases to be private.
And anyway, Rooney has sold his privacy so many times to magazines that he’s not entitled to any ‘private’ life anyway.
I can’t help thinking what Rooney needs right now is The Gaffer going public and giving him a thorough dressing down.
worst bits bolded
Fabio Capello is a dead man walking. Sorry, but that’s what happens when a boss tells everyone he’s going to leave. It doesn’t matter if the exit is now, or in two years’ time when his contract is up. Once employees know their leader is off, everything changes.
I’ve seen it with politicians, editors, business leaders, headmasters and the military. And the reason is simple: why should anyone take orders from someone who’s not going to be there much longer?
It’s not as if England’s players like Capello much to start with. I’ve spoken to a few of them privately and they think he’s dictatorial, tactically old-fashioned and boasts the communication skills of a deaf mute.
The vultures are circling: Fabio Capello announcement that he plans to retire in two years' time can only mean one thing...
He’s also, in their cold, calculatingly professional eyes, guilty of the worst crime of all in football management — he’s a loser. Our appalling performance at the World Cup proved that for all the pre-hyped bluster, Capello is not as good as we, or he, thought he was.
It was like opening a bottle of Chateau Latour 1961 and discovering it’s corked. Everyone’s told you how brilliant it’s going to be, you start to get excited, then reality kicks in and you discover it has the bouquet of a rotting slab of Camembert.
And once an England manager is ‘corked’, there is no way back for him.
The main problem with Capello, as I keep saying, is that he’s not English. Foreign managers work well at Premier League clubs because most of the squads are foreign, too. But stick them in charge of an English-only team and it just doesn’t work. It didn’t with smooth, quiet Sven and it isn’t with hard, nasty Fabio.
The best England managers have been the guys who speak the same language as their players and I mean metaphorically as well as literally.
Terry Venables was brilliant because he looked, dressed, walked and talked like his players. The much underrated Glenn Hoddle was the same. And the late, great Sir Bobby Robson had a fantastic understanding of the English footballer’s mentality.
Capello doesn’t seem to have a clue. He demands all this discipline, yet, since he took over, the England team’s behaviour has descended into an almost collective well of depravity. I can rarely remember so many scandals engulfing the national team and it’s not a coincidence.
After being locked up in Capello’s prison camps, they must be desperate for some fun. That’s why we need an English manager and we need one fast. One who knows that home-grown players react best to the carrot and the stick — to hard work and letting their hair down — but who also know where to draw the line and who don’t want to disappoint the boss.
Building a successful team is about creating the right spirit. The players must want to die for their country. To create that spirit, the manager has to prod, poke, laugh, joke, encourage, rant, backslap and, occasionally, let the boys chuck vintage champagne all over his best suit. A kind of Mike Bassett character, only slightly more cerebrally blessed.
If the Football Association want to have any chance of England winning anything in the next few years, they’ve got to stop hiding their fat, overpaid heads in the sand and do something fast.
Capello has said he’s going, so speed things up, get rid of him now and give the job to the one guy out there who not only wants it the most but who would get the best out of the players: Harry Redknapp. He’s Mike Bassett with brains.
==============================
I am aghast at some experienced commentators warning Frank Lampard that his England job might not be safe.
The Chelsea star was one of the few players who didn’t disgrace himself in South Africa and has been the driving force behind his club’s current dominance of the Premier League in recent years.
Nobody works harder, or gives more, than Lampard. He’d be first choice on my England teamsheet and should be on everyone else’s.
================================
The Fergie of old wouldn't have put up with Wayne's shenanigans
There is always one line in every kiss-and-tell story that says everything you need to know about the subject.
David Mellor, for example, would have emerged from the wreckage of his affair with Antonia de Sancha reasonably OK were it not for the allegation that he wore a Chelsea shirt during their romps.
And while I chuckled my way through Wayne Rooney’s spectacularly inevitable booze-and-hooker expose, the one claim that snapped the eyelids back was about him paying £200 for a pack of Marlboros. If ever proof was needed that young Wayne has lost the plot, surely this was it?
For all his faults, I always had Rooney down as a working-class lad who loved his family and wasn’t susceptible to the usual shenanigans of English footballers. But it turns out he’s as bad as the rest.
Now we know why he has not been scoring goals for Manchester United and why he had such a dismal World Cup. Like Tiger Woods, Rooney’s focus appears to have drifted from the God-given talent that made him a superstar to a crazed lust for wanton misbehaviour. What fascinates me is where Sir Alex Ferguson has been in all this.
The old Fergie would have known what his star striker was up to in Manchester hotels. His legendary army of spies would have called him the moment Rooney was spotted on the razz. And he’d have responded with blind fury, fining Rooney massively, sending him to the reserves and kicking the hapless sleazeball in the goolies as he fled from his office.
But there’s been a deafening silence from the great man so far. ‘I’m not discussing any of my players’ private lives,’ he insisted, before dropping Rooney yesterday to protect him from taunts about his private life. A decision that may have cost United victory at Everton. When you can’t play your top striker for reasons connected to his private life, then that private life ceases to be private.
And anyway, Rooney has sold his privacy so many times to magazines that he’s not entitled to any ‘private’ life anyway.
I can’t help thinking what Rooney needs right now is The Gaffer going public and giving him a thorough dressing down.
worst bits bolded
