Non-QPR Articles of Interest - Friday March 12

Guardian/Harry Pearson

Why the rarely spotted British manager is now an endangered species
Rediscovering their once-famous identity could help home-grown gaffers to avoid extinction

This week Harry Redknapp has been speaking up on behalf of one of the world's most endangered species, the British manager. The British manager is football's answer to the white rhino. Except of course that nobody believes that eating a British football manager's nose will cure impotence.

"Every club will have a foreign owner eventually and you'll get less British managers,'' Redknapp said on Monday in one of those plaintive calls for biodiversity we usually expect to hear from the Duke of Edinburgh shortly before he blows something away with a 12-bore.

"Mark Hughes was doing a terrific job at Man City. But new owners want to bring in somebody they have heard of. There are some terrific managers in the Championship and below who just need the chance. But a big club will always go for that sexy name," Redknapp claimed.

The latter may seem rather a bizarre pronouncement, but let us not forget that the human libido is a strange and mysterious thing. While it may seem incredible to you and I that anyone should experience even the ghost of arousal when they hear the words "Rafael Benítez" or "Avram Grant", it must be acknowledged that football club owners are a different breed from the rest of us. Who is to say that the very thought of Guus Hiddink or Louis van Gaal doesn't have some of the oligarchs and oil barons reaching for the Kleenex? After all, as Redknapp wisely points out, more and more of them are foreigners and we all know what they are like, the saucy devils.

Redknapp's words have re-ignited the debate about the fate of the British manager and much of what has been written since has conjured up a nightmare vision in which the innocent if bumbling UK gaffer is hunted to extinction by uncaring immigrants in much the same way the white settlers exterminated the American buffalo. Indeed, it is hard not to envisage an horrific scene in which a vast herd of thousands of British bosses gambol merrily about on the open grasslands of Lilleshall or Hackney Marshes, moving cones, organising card schools and making sure nobody eats any spicy continental grub on match days, while unbeknownst to them a gang of ruthless transatlantic hunters approach down wind, picking up the tell-tale British manager scent of shaving soap, dubbin and embrocation.

As he slots a shell into his rifle, the leader of the marksmen, Roman Abramovich in all likelihood, mutters, "Shoot the leader of the herd first otherwise the rest'll be spooked", and a few seconds later Sir Alex Ferguson has crumpled to the turf emitting a last embittered tirade about the amount of injury time that was played on Saturday.

By the end of the day the plain is strewn with the carcasses of British managers, already stripped of their valuable pelts of nylon and polyester warm-up coats, which are then shipped off to mainland Europe to be turned into hats for fashionable Parisian ladies. Later, a man will come in a cart and gather up the bones to turn into fertiliser for the playing surfaces of San Siro and Camp Nou.

To be honest, though, I think British football managers have been their own worst enemies. There was a time when if you cut a British football manager he'd bleed winceyette pyjamas, hot water bottles and custard creams, but in recent years all but a few have abandoned their Britishness to chase what they fondly believe are modern methods. Out have gone good old British staples such as mangling foreign names (Joe Mercer always called Johan Cruyff "Cruffy"), paring brown suede shoes with tracksuit bottoms and becoming so obsessed with signs and portents that they had to wear their suit back to front, step on the cracks on the way to the ground and never use the definite article on match days. Instead they have embraced pro-zone, holistic dentistry and vibrating warm-down chairs.

The result is that these days the British manager, with honourable exceptions such as Redknapp, Sir Alex and Roy Hodgson, who is very much a gentleman PE Teacher from the Alec Stock mould, is no longer recognisable. Even Sam Allardyce, apparently the most sturdily British of all our managers, is more concerned with motivational psychology and Feng Shui than he is with standing in the pouring rain yelling dog's abuse at his players as they each carry a small pit pony up a slagheap for the 15th time.

And this to my mind is the problem. Because if we look at the world at large we can see that the British companies that are most successful are those that place a heavy emphasis on their Britishness: Burberry, Aquascutum, Barbour – foreigners love these brands. Even in France they like traditional British things. There's hardly a posh restaurant in Paris theses days that doesn't have apple crumble on the menu.

In continental Europe they used to love British football managers too. That's why in Spain the coach is always called "Mister". But that was back when British managers were undeniably British. Maybe it's too late to turn back the clock, but if Mark Hughes is serious about his career I'd drop the Armani suits and start wearing a trilby hat and a monkey-shit brown mac over my tracksuit from now on.

www.guardian.co.uk/football/blog/2010/mar/12/british-managers-harry-redknapp

Independent/Sam Wallace - March 12, 2010

James tries to pay sacked staff's wages

Portsmouth keeper leads players' whip-round to save jobs at stricken club

David James is organising the Portsmouth players to pay the wages of up to eight training ground staff out of their own pockets after the club's administrator sacked them as part of major job cuts this week.

Earlier, James was turned down when he offered to pay the wages of the club's assistant kitman and their training-ground manager because it conflicted with the regulations of the administration procedure. However, the England goalkeeper has gone back to the club's administrator Andrew Andronikou to try to find a way that the players can help to save a group of catering staff, cleaners, kitmen and groundsmen.

The Portsmouth squad feel that it would be virtually impossible for the club to function on a day-to-day basis without the core of eight staff whom they are prepared to pay personally.

Andronikou imposed 85 job cuts on Wednesday although the chief executive, Peter Storrie, was permitted to keep his job. James had offered to pay the wages of the training ground manager, Tug Wilson, and assistant kit-man Clarke Denford.

Wilson, 64, told local media: "David is a good man and a work colleague and he was just trying to help us out. He is someone I have seen almost every day for the last four years and we get on well. People slag off players for earning so much money but they are talented athletes and are paid what they are offered. Most are good people just like David."

The club have avoided the immediate danger of being wound up when HM Revenue and Customs (HMRC) officially accepted that their move into administration had been legal. They abandoned the claim that owner Balram Chainrai broke the law when Portsmouth went into administration.

With the club facing a nine-point penalty for entering administration Andronikou has said that no players will be moved on ahead of the FA Cup semi-final. At risk are Portsmouth's six loan signings who could depart to save money, including first-team players Jamie O'Hara and Aruna Dindane.

Andronikou said that nothing would change before Portsmouth play the winners of the Fulham and Tottenham replay at Wembley. He said: "Selling players is an option but first I need to broach the subject with the Premier League. I need their concession.

"As an alternative from looking at the Premier League advancing TV money, I suggested to them to possibly open the [transfer] window to allow me to sell two players on a loan-back. It's one of those subjects we need to discuss further. However, I will not be looking to sell players or cancel loan agreements before the semi-final.

'The players are very much the shop window of the club so instead I hope they can attract a buyer to this club."

Chainrai said yesterday: "I don't feel I've lost the money. I feel the money is there, I can see it. If the club is alive, my money is alive.

"The main objective is to sell off the club to some consortium or institution or person, who would be responsible enough to stabilise it and run it properly," he said. "I've heard through my lawyers that they are in conversations with several parties."

www.independent.co.uk/sport/football/premier-league/james-tries-to-pay-sacked-staffs-wages-1920153.html