Nigel's Big Day

Imagine the life of a football manager: You speak almost exclusively in metaphors. Your responses to interview questions consist of perhaps four stock answers, each including a different quote from Sun Tzu’s ‘The Art of War’. You have achieved fantastic success at your club in a short period of time. Recently that success has lead to increased pressure. That pressure has started to affect team performances. League position is under threat. Your side’s home form, at one time devastating, is in danger of becoming something of a mental block. You suffer a further home defeat in a depressing FA Cup replay, afterwards giving a frank and brutal assessment of your team’s display. Next you face a side with eight wins on the road this season.

The crowd will be nervous. They will be looking for any signs of your players ‘bottling it.’ They have been let down before; they are haunted by a past littered with systematic disappointment. They must be reassured. They need leadership as much as the players do. You write your programme notes. They read more like a rallying call. You use the word ‘positivity’ seven times.

This game is massive; it really isn’t just about the three points. You need to win well. You need to send a message, to turn a corner. This is where league titles are earned. They are earned when the goals aren’t flying in, when the opposition keeper plays a blinder. They are earned when doubt has entered the minds of the players. It is your job to remove that doubt, then they can play without fear.

Your players don’t let you down. Your players step up to the plate; Adam Lallana is majestic, Rickie Lambert is faultless, Jack Cork justifies his transfer fee. The crowd are behind the team from the start, you sense they got the message. They know they have a part to play. Lallana heads the opener, the crowd respond again. The doubts are suddenly less prevalent. They remember now; they remember that when their team plays like this they never look like losing.

The chances are flowing now. Lambert almost doubles the lead, but Grant saves well. Billy Sharp makes his debut, and he adds something different. He has touch and vision. He forces a second goal on the half hour, and now there is breathing space. Now you can play. The players are comfortable on the ball. They pass Burnley to death.

When the opposition finally apply pressure your defence is strong, stronger than it has been for weeks. Fonte dismantles attacks and starts his own with efficiency and finesse. Hooiveld wins the headers, he shows you what you have been missing in the last three games. The pressure subsides. The chances start to come again. Somehow Grant saves from Lallana. Somehow Connolly is ruled offside. Somehow the referee doesn’t give a penalty.

But time is almost up now. Your team show no signs of ‘bottling it.’ They pass and they pass. This is exactly what you needed. When the final whistle blows you feel a message has been sent. Now the fans know, the players know, you know that you have the resolve to finish the job. Now you know that when you travel to Upton Park on Tuesday night you can do some damage. They won’t have liked seeing this, on their way back to London from a game postponed at Peterborough.

You go in to see the players and reiterate the need for focus, for stoicism but most of all for ‘positivity.’ In your post-match interview you say ‘positivity’ four more times. After all, ‘a leader leads by example not force.’ (Sun Tzu – ‘The Art of War’.)