Post by QPR Report on May 10, 2009 5:44:52 GMT
David James/The Guardian
Quirky goalkeepers can make good coaches
Goalkeepers' sanity is often questioned, but few of us manage to make it into management
Why do so few former goalkeepers go into management – does a lifetime between the sticks rule you out of running a successful team from the sidelines? These are worrying thoughts for a man who has recently committed his Monday afternoons to coaching 15-year-olds. Is my quest for coaching badges and a career in management doomed from the start?
There have been goalkeepers who made successful managers – Raymond Goethals was a legend who led Marseille to European Cup glory in 1993 – though in England we don't have many examples. In part it's down to numbers. We don't have many players in the top flight who are interested in being managers. It is only me at Portsmouth. Money has changed how players think about what to do when they stop playing.
There are other factors. Can a goalkeeper be a good manager? My own coaching experience has been a real eye opener. One of the first things that hit me was my entrenched goalkeeper's perspective. I'm coaching kids in outfield play and it is years since I played there. I've never been able to dribble, run round people or shoot. I wouldn't be surprised if some goalkeepers were to start a coaching course and think: "Sod this."
But it's much more than that: it's a whole philosophy. For a goalkeeper football is very black and white. Whereas an outfield player can risk a bad pass and expect to be covered, a goalkeeper has no margin for error. It makes us pretty pedantic and intense at times. Anyone who has been on a team with me knows I tend to rant and rave after a bad match. I just boil over. On occasion I've criticised people very harshly.
Perhaps all that intensity doesn't translate well into being a good man manager. Keepers don't even seem to like spending time with other people – we are the least sociable creatures in football. At every club I've played for, bar Liverpool, the keepers steered clear of hanging out with the lads. Maybe they're all at home reading. Eleven of the 20 Premier League's "reading stars ambassadors" are keepers, which says a lot about our psyche. Apparently Robert Green's favourite book is Homer's Iliad. We really are a slightly different breed.
Even our training techniques have our team-mates questioning our sanity. When players see you flinging yourself around the pitch trying to save imaginary balls, they find it hard to believe you don't have a screw loose. When I'm joking around in the changing room people are probably thinking: "He's a decent goalkeeper, but he's a bit of a fruitcake."
One thing a good goalkeeper does have from his team-mates is trust. Sylvain Distin thinks my jokes are rubbish (so are his) and I'm a bit nuts, but I like to think that when the ball is in the air he trusts me to take it. Defenders have to place so much trust in their keeper – and it is not reciprocated. Keepers are guarded and we become more so as we get older.
Perhaps that detachment could also prove our strength. Managers don't need a changing room full of mates, they need to be detached, to take a different view. When Eddie the stats guy at Portsmouth gets a load of data in he knows I'm the only player who will want to sit down and pore over it. I'm interested in sports science and statistics, training techniques and analysing a match. Last week I asked the backroom staff if they thought I could make a good manager; they said the biggest pitfall was thinking you had all the answers. You have to understand your strengths and weaknesses, and you have to be able to delegate.
With my under-15s there is little opportunity to delegate. I've got 26 kids and the biggest test is keeping them all interested and enthusiastic. I insisted that I'd only take the group if everyone was welcome, girls too, and all abilities. That has its own challenges, keeping everyone working together without boring the more accomplished kids, or excluding those who have never played before.
How does it all translate into being a Premier League manager? Many of the same principles apply. Training sessions have to be stimulating, otherwise a player feels it has been a wasted day. But there is a bigger picture, too. For me football is not just about 11 players on the pitch, it should be far-reaching and inclusive.
I have two goals: to revolutionise goalkeeping coaching – there is so much that could be improved – and to show that there is a different way to run a football club. Perhaps it is a utopian dream, but I want to be part of a club that works with the community it is in.
I just hope I'm able to articulate it all. I would hate to end up in a dead-end dressing room with a bunch of outfield players all looking at me and thinking: "Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about, you're just a goalkeeper."
David James has donated his fee for this column to charity
www.guardian.co.uk/football/blog/2009/may/10/david-james-goalkeepers-managers
Quirky goalkeepers can make good coaches
Goalkeepers' sanity is often questioned, but few of us manage to make it into management
Why do so few former goalkeepers go into management – does a lifetime between the sticks rule you out of running a successful team from the sidelines? These are worrying thoughts for a man who has recently committed his Monday afternoons to coaching 15-year-olds. Is my quest for coaching badges and a career in management doomed from the start?
There have been goalkeepers who made successful managers – Raymond Goethals was a legend who led Marseille to European Cup glory in 1993 – though in England we don't have many examples. In part it's down to numbers. We don't have many players in the top flight who are interested in being managers. It is only me at Portsmouth. Money has changed how players think about what to do when they stop playing.
There are other factors. Can a goalkeeper be a good manager? My own coaching experience has been a real eye opener. One of the first things that hit me was my entrenched goalkeeper's perspective. I'm coaching kids in outfield play and it is years since I played there. I've never been able to dribble, run round people or shoot. I wouldn't be surprised if some goalkeepers were to start a coaching course and think: "Sod this."
But it's much more than that: it's a whole philosophy. For a goalkeeper football is very black and white. Whereas an outfield player can risk a bad pass and expect to be covered, a goalkeeper has no margin for error. It makes us pretty pedantic and intense at times. Anyone who has been on a team with me knows I tend to rant and rave after a bad match. I just boil over. On occasion I've criticised people very harshly.
Perhaps all that intensity doesn't translate well into being a good man manager. Keepers don't even seem to like spending time with other people – we are the least sociable creatures in football. At every club I've played for, bar Liverpool, the keepers steered clear of hanging out with the lads. Maybe they're all at home reading. Eleven of the 20 Premier League's "reading stars ambassadors" are keepers, which says a lot about our psyche. Apparently Robert Green's favourite book is Homer's Iliad. We really are a slightly different breed.
Even our training techniques have our team-mates questioning our sanity. When players see you flinging yourself around the pitch trying to save imaginary balls, they find it hard to believe you don't have a screw loose. When I'm joking around in the changing room people are probably thinking: "He's a decent goalkeeper, but he's a bit of a fruitcake."
One thing a good goalkeeper does have from his team-mates is trust. Sylvain Distin thinks my jokes are rubbish (so are his) and I'm a bit nuts, but I like to think that when the ball is in the air he trusts me to take it. Defenders have to place so much trust in their keeper – and it is not reciprocated. Keepers are guarded and we become more so as we get older.
Perhaps that detachment could also prove our strength. Managers don't need a changing room full of mates, they need to be detached, to take a different view. When Eddie the stats guy at Portsmouth gets a load of data in he knows I'm the only player who will want to sit down and pore over it. I'm interested in sports science and statistics, training techniques and analysing a match. Last week I asked the backroom staff if they thought I could make a good manager; they said the biggest pitfall was thinking you had all the answers. You have to understand your strengths and weaknesses, and you have to be able to delegate.
With my under-15s there is little opportunity to delegate. I've got 26 kids and the biggest test is keeping them all interested and enthusiastic. I insisted that I'd only take the group if everyone was welcome, girls too, and all abilities. That has its own challenges, keeping everyone working together without boring the more accomplished kids, or excluding those who have never played before.
How does it all translate into being a Premier League manager? Many of the same principles apply. Training sessions have to be stimulating, otherwise a player feels it has been a wasted day. But there is a bigger picture, too. For me football is not just about 11 players on the pitch, it should be far-reaching and inclusive.
I have two goals: to revolutionise goalkeeping coaching – there is so much that could be improved – and to show that there is a different way to run a football club. Perhaps it is a utopian dream, but I want to be part of a club that works with the community it is in.
I just hope I'm able to articulate it all. I would hate to end up in a dead-end dressing room with a bunch of outfield players all looking at me and thinking: "Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about, you're just a goalkeeper."
David James has donated his fee for this column to charity
www.guardian.co.uk/football/blog/2009/may/10/david-james-goalkeepers-managers