SIDELINE CUT:Despite the fine job he has done at Spurs, if Redknapp passes up the opportunity to manage England now, that chance may never come around again, writes KEITH DUGGAN
THE TRUTH is the England job could not have become available at a worse time for Harry Redknapp. The relief on Redknapp’s face was plain to see as he left Southwark Crown Court during the week. There will always be a touch of the Wide Boy about the way Harry carries himself and it would be no surprise if you happened to spot him down the Nag’s Head in the company of Del Boy and Boycie.
But he has always come across as a decent man who was mostly interested in managing football teams. On Wednesday he experienced what must have been the weirdest day of his life, cleared of a tax evasion charge that had haunted him for five years and, hours later, watching as the England manager walked away, leaving him to face the crucial decision of his football life.
Fabio Capello wore his scarf with panache but he still cut a dishevelled figure as he was photographed in the hours after his resignation: another failed England manager unable to cope with transforming a dissolute collection of young millionaires into a cohesive national team. Capello had promised to impose on England his own brand of Italian austerity.
After the softly-softly approach of Steve McClaren, here was football’s renaissance man, a man raised on the fundamentals of Serie A and, most importantly, an authoritarian who commanded respect.
And then John Terry either did or did not say something unspeakable to Anton Ferdinand, a fellow English man, initiating a chain of unsavoury events that leaves England and the FA without a manager just a few months before a major tournament.
The jury on the Capello experiment has been sweeping in its verdict. England and the Italian: it was never going to work. His manner was aloof. His English was poor. He didn’t understand the English players and the English didn’t understand him. The World Cup in South Africa was an unmitigated disaster, from the torpor of the team camp outside Bloemfontein to the embarrassing 4-1 exit at the hands of Germany.
And there wasn’t even any tabloid gossip to be had from Capello. He didn’t get the English and the English didn’t get him. Nancy Mitford’s famous line – “She said that all the sights in Rome were called after London cinemas” – still rings true.
But in the rush to acclaim Redknapp as the answer, there has been little reflection on why it has gone so badly wrong for England yet again. Why is it that the man who Capello saw fit to lead the national team faces charges of racism?
Why is it that Wayne Rooney, the Duncan Edwards of his generation and the one English player capable of terrifying international teams, feels the need to deliver one-fingered salutes to fans and to send incendiary messages into the cyber-sphere just two days ahead of the volatile Manchester United/Liverpool reunion at Old Trafford?
Why is it that the promotion of Stuart Pearse as interim coach for the friendly match against the Netherlands next month has provoked recollections of his 1994 spat with Paul Ince, after which he apologised for making racist comments?
Or that Richard Keyes and Andy Gray, the football commentators who became the faces and voices of Sky televisions’ football revolution will be remembered not for a Kenneth Wolstenholme moment –“Some of the crowd are on the pitch” but for that leering question, “Did you smash it?” In 2004, Ron Atkinson was rightly sacked from his television role after the racist comments he made off-air were recorded and accidentally broadcast. At the time, Big Ron seemed like a dinosaur from a bygone era – all gold chains and too much aftershave. Those who knew Atkinson vouched he was no racist.
But he was raised in a football culture that belonged to the Alf Garnett school of English supremacy. The jump from England’s fabled team of 1966, composed entirely of white men, to the disgraceful treatment players like John Barnes received when they wore an England shirt to the current controversy involving Terry has been swift.
The allegations that hang over Terry and the general behaviour of England’s best and brightest suggest the Atkinson mindset has passed through the generation. Add that to the sniggering-down-the-back-of-the-bus attitude to authority and you have a club that is hard to manage, as Capello has found.
Today’s generation will never find themselves in the position of Tommy Smith, the former Liverpool captain, who is selling off his league, FA Cup and European medal collection at the age of 66. All the money has made them untouchable but it hasn’t taught them how to behave.
Harry Redknapp belongs to Tommy Smith’s generation of English football players. He came up through the under-age system of Spurs and joined West Ham – Alf Garnett’s beloved club – as a 15-year-old. He can remember Bobby Moore as a team-mate rather than as a poster boy for the halcyon days of English football.
He had a decent career as a journeyman footballer and spent the poisonous decade of the 1980s grafting in the lower reaches of the league. Only now, in his sixties, is he getting to truly share the stage with the men who have lit the headlines for the last 20 years – Ferguson, Dalglish and Wenger.
Manchester City’s bold drive for the league title has captured much of the attention but Redknapp and Spurs have been the best story of the football season. They have been great fun to watch and have kept surprising everyone, not least themselves, by their ability to keep pace with the leaders. But for the distraction of Redknapp’s case during the week, they might well have beaten Liverpool, leaving them just four points adrift. Spurs’ panel may not be quite deep enough or hardened enough to win the league. But they are entitled to ask themselves why not.
And it has been such a surreal few months for Redknapp that he might just feel the stars are aligned. The perfect outcome for Redknapp would have been for Capello to have taken England to Euro 2012 and afterwards flee for the bosom of Italy, admitting England was beyond him. That way, Redknapp could concentrate on doing the impossible with Spurs over the next few months and then assume the England job.
When Spurs first won the league, in 1950-51, Alf Ramsey was playing for them at White Harte Lane. League success would come again 10 years later but since then Spurs have been more sparkle than substance. Now, Redknapp has this year’s team poised to do something special.
The clamour for Redknapp to be anointed as England’s saviour may become so loud in the coming weeks he will feel obliged to accept. And maybe he will prove the perfect fit for England: authoritative enough to keep the young millionaire club in check, savvy and quick-witted enough to deal with the demands of Fleet Street and just about old enough to recall the time when the English football team was a source of pride rather than bafflement. But what a difficult choice for Redknapp.
If he passes up the opportunity to manage England now, it may never come around again. But if he leaves Spurs, he may be walking away from his best chance to do something truly wonderful and epochal with his football life.
Of course, either choice beats being found guilty of tax evasion.
