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Wasn't aware of what badges JFH had yet got. Good to see he is doing well on the road to a Pro Licence.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/sport/...cle4668928.ece
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When Greg Dyke launched his FA Commission into England’s travails, the main focus was on player development when the country was also crying out for coaches. The talent pool of home-grown managers is shallow at the highest level, a reality that the FA tries to address with such events as the continuation of the Pro Licence course at St George’s Park yesterday.
The Pro Licence is vital, and expensive, costing £7,500, but attracting some strong students from England and beyond, including Mark Warburton, Scott Parker, Ian Woan, Gerry Peyton, Mark Sampson, Andy Awford, Neil Adams, David Connolly, Brad Friedel and Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink.
These present and aspiring managers sit in the St George’s Park library, a room filled with reading matter to assist them with the myriad vicissitudes of their profession. The books on the shelves provide eloquent testimony of the pitfalls their players can tumble into. Tony Adams’s Addicted and Stan Collymore’s Tackling My Demons are well thumbed.
Guidance from the greats is found in the works of Cloughie — Walking on Water, and all of Sir Alex Ferguson’s many tomes. All for the Wolves, by Stan Cullis (foreword by Billy Wright) provides insight into Molineux’s most famous manager. Nearby hangs a picture of Major Frank Buckley who “championed youth development as a club coach at Wolves in the 1920s to 1940s”.
Other photographs celebrate the coaching contributions of Peter Taylor, Don Howe, Dave Sexton, Joe Mercer, Herbert Chapman and Malcolm Allison. Sir Bobby Robson’s memorable work for his country is captured in Pete Davies’ heroic homage to Italia 90 All Played Out.
Yet reminders of the insecurity of their profession lie all around. On a coffee table in the FA library is a copy of the The Manager, the League Managers Association magazine, with Garry Monk on the front cover and the headline like a swan to water. Midway through the morning, during a break, news comes through that Leyton Orient have sacked Ian Hendon.
To prepare coaches for one particular peril of their trade, the FA staged mock press conferences with a grilling provided by representatives of six newspapers, including The Times. Hasselbaink was presented with the scenario of playing a manager “of a lower-budget Premier League club” whose star striker has been the subject of two bids from Manchester United.
Angered by the chairman turning down the offers, the striker unleashes his ire on social media, tweeting: “I’ve given everything I can to the club. Now my trust in the management has been shattered. How dare they reward all my hard work by trying to suppress my ambition to play for one of the biggest clubs in the world. If they mess with me I will mess with them. My playing days here are over.”
Hasselbaink has two minutes to discuss the situation with a press officer before entering the bear pit in the library. Life often imitates artifice and the Queens Park Rangers manager has just been through the Charlie Austin sale, so he could have been forgiven a little smile at the scenario he was given.
A professional presenter analyses Hasselbaink’s body language and the Dutchman exudes control. He marches in and immediately takes ownership of the press conference, sitting down and pouring himself a glass of water, slowing the pace.
It’s similar to how the Dutch are now taught to take penalties, taking their time, regulating their breathing, even tying a lace after placing the ball on the spot.
Looking fit enough still to be muscling an opening in the penalty box, the former Leeds United and Chelsea goalscorer leans forward, answering all the questions confidently, showing empathy for the tweeting, heated player without undermining his own authority.
Friedel, who has flown in from his Malibu base to continue the course, is given the same scenario to act out and is similarly unflappable, insisting that he will not be banning the player from Twitter, and afterwards laughing at the very thought because it would be against the US constitution. The Pro Licence leads to some eclectic discussions. One of the liveliest scenarios reflects a frequent bane of a manager’s existence — provocative or revealing tweets from players’ relatives.
This hypothetical story involves the girlfriend of a star goalscorer called Paul Starmer tweeting her outrage at 2am about her loved one being substituted.
“Paul isn’t allowed to say this but nobody can stop me saying it for him,” reads her imaginary, incendiary post. “What kind of idiot takes off his leading goalscorer with half an hour to play? Time he looked for another club. Nobody can score goals when they’re not on the pitch. #sackthemanager.” Mauricio Pochettino’s No 2 at Spurs, Miguel D’Agostino, another intelligent Argentinian, plays a masterly straight bat, ensuring he does not alienate the player.
Another coach enlivens the mock press conference by suggesting she was probably “drunk” when tweeting in the early hours. This leads to a later debate on how managers should treat enraged, problematic partners of their star player. Answers range from getting her to delete the tweet to sending her flowers as an apology for claiming in public that she was “probably drunk”. Some of the coaches nod with a weary first-hand, real-life knowledge of the scenario of players not being paid.
It is a reminder that English football is not just a land of silk and money. David Connolly played for Wimbledon in the early 2000s shortly before they were engulfed by financial problems.
Connolly brings a human dimension to the situation, winning sympathetic nods from reporters by talking of how he told the unpaid players to remember kicking the ball around the garden as kids, playing for the fun of it, not for the money.
Another coach presented with the same scenario admits for some reason he has been paid, and this is immediately seized upon as hinting that the dressing room cannot be unified.
Adding to the tension, the St George’s Park fire alarm goes off when the popular FA coach, Neil Dewsnip, Steven Gerrard’s old PE teacher at Cardinal Heenan High School, is talking through a scenario of being called a “cheat” by the opposing manager after his team score when an opposing player lies injured.
The most authoritative display comes from the most experienced manager present, Warburton, formerly of Brentford and now of Rangers. Warburton has the difficult scenario of dealing with the fallout of being photographed with the chairman of another club, the “Sven” scenario. No question, however brutal, flummoxes Warburton. After lunch, the coaches sit through a fascinating 90-minute presentation by Alan Pardew on his journey through management, and the maturing process that comes with time and incidents.
There are contributions from Jeremy Snape, the former England cricketer and now sports psychologist.
In the afternoon, Awford deals with the tricky scenario of two of his players fighting on the pitch.
This prompts a trip down memory lane and whether Graeme Souness was right to bring out Newcastle United’s warring duo, Kieron Dyer and Lee Bowyer, to face the cameras. Kath, St James’ Park’s legendary tea-lady, turned the picture of Jackie Milburn to the wall so he would not have to see the players who brought such shame on the club.
News filters through about Francesco Guidolin, the Italian, being appointed head coach of Swansea City, a reminder of the number of domestic jobs being filled by coaches coming in from abroad.
On a nearby wall are photographs of José Mourinho, Arsène Wenger and Gérard Houllier, overseas coaches who have made “outstanding contributions” to English football.
The English game should be a broad church, attracting the best coaches from foreign climes.
However the home-grown, whether English or born overseas, need nurturing here, and given a chance too.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/sport/...cle4668928.ece
For those without a Subscription:
When Greg Dyke launched his FA Commission into England’s travails, the main focus was on player development when the country was also crying out for coaches. The talent pool of home-grown managers is shallow at the highest level, a reality that the FA tries to address with such events as the continuation of the Pro Licence course at St George’s Park yesterday.
The Pro Licence is vital, and expensive, costing £7,500, but attracting some strong students from England and beyond, including Mark Warburton, Scott Parker, Ian Woan, Gerry Peyton, Mark Sampson, Andy Awford, Neil Adams, David Connolly, Brad Friedel and Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink.
These present and aspiring managers sit in the St George’s Park library, a room filled with reading matter to assist them with the myriad vicissitudes of their profession. The books on the shelves provide eloquent testimony of the pitfalls their players can tumble into. Tony Adams’s Addicted and Stan Collymore’s Tackling My Demons are well thumbed.
Guidance from the greats is found in the works of Cloughie — Walking on Water, and all of Sir Alex Ferguson’s many tomes. All for the Wolves, by Stan Cullis (foreword by Billy Wright) provides insight into Molineux’s most famous manager. Nearby hangs a picture of Major Frank Buckley who “championed youth development as a club coach at Wolves in the 1920s to 1940s”.
Other photographs celebrate the coaching contributions of Peter Taylor, Don Howe, Dave Sexton, Joe Mercer, Herbert Chapman and Malcolm Allison. Sir Bobby Robson’s memorable work for his country is captured in Pete Davies’ heroic homage to Italia 90 All Played Out.
Yet reminders of the insecurity of their profession lie all around. On a coffee table in the FA library is a copy of the The Manager, the League Managers Association magazine, with Garry Monk on the front cover and the headline like a swan to water. Midway through the morning, during a break, news comes through that Leyton Orient have sacked Ian Hendon.
To prepare coaches for one particular peril of their trade, the FA staged mock press conferences with a grilling provided by representatives of six newspapers, including The Times. Hasselbaink was presented with the scenario of playing a manager “of a lower-budget Premier League club” whose star striker has been the subject of two bids from Manchester United.
Angered by the chairman turning down the offers, the striker unleashes his ire on social media, tweeting: “I’ve given everything I can to the club. Now my trust in the management has been shattered. How dare they reward all my hard work by trying to suppress my ambition to play for one of the biggest clubs in the world. If they mess with me I will mess with them. My playing days here are over.”
Hasselbaink has two minutes to discuss the situation with a press officer before entering the bear pit in the library. Life often imitates artifice and the Queens Park Rangers manager has just been through the Charlie Austin sale, so he could have been forgiven a little smile at the scenario he was given.
A professional presenter analyses Hasselbaink’s body language and the Dutchman exudes control. He marches in and immediately takes ownership of the press conference, sitting down and pouring himself a glass of water, slowing the pace.
It’s similar to how the Dutch are now taught to take penalties, taking their time, regulating their breathing, even tying a lace after placing the ball on the spot.
Looking fit enough still to be muscling an opening in the penalty box, the former Leeds United and Chelsea goalscorer leans forward, answering all the questions confidently, showing empathy for the tweeting, heated player without undermining his own authority.
Friedel, who has flown in from his Malibu base to continue the course, is given the same scenario to act out and is similarly unflappable, insisting that he will not be banning the player from Twitter, and afterwards laughing at the very thought because it would be against the US constitution. The Pro Licence leads to some eclectic discussions. One of the liveliest scenarios reflects a frequent bane of a manager’s existence — provocative or revealing tweets from players’ relatives.
This hypothetical story involves the girlfriend of a star goalscorer called Paul Starmer tweeting her outrage at 2am about her loved one being substituted.
“Paul isn’t allowed to say this but nobody can stop me saying it for him,” reads her imaginary, incendiary post. “What kind of idiot takes off his leading goalscorer with half an hour to play? Time he looked for another club. Nobody can score goals when they’re not on the pitch. #sackthemanager.” Mauricio Pochettino’s No 2 at Spurs, Miguel D’Agostino, another intelligent Argentinian, plays a masterly straight bat, ensuring he does not alienate the player.
Another coach enlivens the mock press conference by suggesting she was probably “drunk” when tweeting in the early hours. This leads to a later debate on how managers should treat enraged, problematic partners of their star player. Answers range from getting her to delete the tweet to sending her flowers as an apology for claiming in public that she was “probably drunk”. Some of the coaches nod with a weary first-hand, real-life knowledge of the scenario of players not being paid.
It is a reminder that English football is not just a land of silk and money. David Connolly played for Wimbledon in the early 2000s shortly before they were engulfed by financial problems.
Connolly brings a human dimension to the situation, winning sympathetic nods from reporters by talking of how he told the unpaid players to remember kicking the ball around the garden as kids, playing for the fun of it, not for the money.
Another coach presented with the same scenario admits for some reason he has been paid, and this is immediately seized upon as hinting that the dressing room cannot be unified.
Adding to the tension, the St George’s Park fire alarm goes off when the popular FA coach, Neil Dewsnip, Steven Gerrard’s old PE teacher at Cardinal Heenan High School, is talking through a scenario of being called a “cheat” by the opposing manager after his team score when an opposing player lies injured.
The most authoritative display comes from the most experienced manager present, Warburton, formerly of Brentford and now of Rangers. Warburton has the difficult scenario of dealing with the fallout of being photographed with the chairman of another club, the “Sven” scenario. No question, however brutal, flummoxes Warburton. After lunch, the coaches sit through a fascinating 90-minute presentation by Alan Pardew on his journey through management, and the maturing process that comes with time and incidents.
There are contributions from Jeremy Snape, the former England cricketer and now sports psychologist.
In the afternoon, Awford deals with the tricky scenario of two of his players fighting on the pitch.
This prompts a trip down memory lane and whether Graeme Souness was right to bring out Newcastle United’s warring duo, Kieron Dyer and Lee Bowyer, to face the cameras. Kath, St James’ Park’s legendary tea-lady, turned the picture of Jackie Milburn to the wall so he would not have to see the players who brought such shame on the club.
News filters through about Francesco Guidolin, the Italian, being appointed head coach of Swansea City, a reminder of the number of domestic jobs being filled by coaches coming in from abroad.
On a nearby wall are photographs of José Mourinho, Arsène Wenger and Gérard Houllier, overseas coaches who have made “outstanding contributions” to English football.
The English game should be a broad church, attracting the best coaches from foreign climes.
However the home-grown, whether English or born overseas, need nurturing here, and given a chance too.
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