An affectionate look at the changing role, status, and style of the football manager since the dawn of the professional era, this book describes in detail the journey from man with sponge—and perhaps a medicine ball—through flamboyant medallion-wearing eccentric, to handsome celebrity millionaire fronting up a UN anti-landmine campaign. Football journalist Barney Ronay writes hilariously about this transition, examining the indiosyncrasies of some of our favorite gaffers along the way and unearthing a wealth of previously unknown anecdotes as well.
Absorbing and entertaining, Barney Ronay records the evolution of the 20th Century football manager, from working class "gaffer" to sophisticated international millionaire and often media star. Written in stylish prose and with genuine affection for his subject, Barney Ronay delves deep into the dugout and bootroom to chart this colourful history from Victorian moustachioed tyrant, towards the modern head coach figure, often at the mercy of the remote and wilfull plutocratic overseas ownership. With less real power in the hiring and firing department for instance, the new manager is both a more respected and astute figure, and yet more personally vulnerable. Gone are the generational giants and figureheads such as Ferguson and Wenger, as Football Manager, and here come the more disposable and intolerably stressed millionaire short term tactitioners familiar today.
The Manager: The Absurd Ascent of the Most Important Man in Football offers a deep dive into the evolution of the enigmatic football manager. Citing iconic figures that have shaped the game from the sidelines, Barney Ronay stitches together a unique perspective on the manager's metamorphosis.
The depth of research in this book is exceptional. An array of references and analogies enriches Ronay's historical insights, though these can sometimes feel alienating for readers unfamiliar with British culture. Ronay frequently resorts to tangential routes and indulges in excessive hyperbole in his writing, which can come across as meandering.
Ronay’s identifiable flair for writing is present, but the book lacks his signature tongue-in-cheek humour and wit. Instead, his prose is uncharacteristically serious, sprinkled with chuckles few and far.
Guardian columnist takes the long view on managers, in a book that doesn't touch on the great Pep v Mourinho dynamic of the 2010s, because it was published before then. Very good on the way the game is moving to Superstar Managers in the 2000s, and on the characters in English football in the pre-Prem era. Very funny too.
Barney Ronay is a difficult one to pin down. A senior sports writer for the Guardian, he is often the one to pick up ackward stories - a recent piece went by the title 'Should Sepp Blatter Lock Himself in a Cupboard - and in all fairness he rarely writes anything that isn't interesting. The tonality he uses is more often than not humorous and this was echoed in his previous book 'Any Chance of a Game', a witty (and highly personal) take on parks' football.
That, however, sat at the other end of the football litterary spectrum to 'The Managers' which places itself as a serious examination of how the role of the manager has developed over the decades.
Today, that a manager is the man who makes all the decisions at a football club is taken forgranted. Yet it wasn't always the case as Ronay shows in this study of how managers came to exhert increasingly more influence at football clubs, not to mention the number of quirky facts that he brings to life along the way. It is also Ronay's belief that ultimately things will be back to where they were with the club's owners being the ones who make most of the decisions leaving the manager with a peripheral coaching role.
That this is presented (in an overly dramatic way) as ultimately being a bad thing is typical given British football's culture. But it also discounts the success of the system in most of Europe where it is the general manager who holds all the power. And, given how English clubs - not to mention the national team - are constantly looking to employ foreign managers would suggest that there is at least some merit to the continental system that allows the manager to actually get on with the job of managing the set of players that he is in charge of.
This somewhat insular view is perhaps the book's biggest failing. There will always be many out there with the belief that the manager is, as Ronay describes him, 'the most important man in football' and that might indeed be the best way in some cases. Yet using the history of the role - as well as the limited number of times in which a director of football has been imposed in England - as the reason for which it should be kept this way is, frankly, limited. Indeed, if anything, the evolution of the role should highlight precisely the opposite: that what seems to be the best way now may, in hindsight, prove to be exactly the opposite.
I like Ronay's journalism usually. This book has interesting anecdotes about the managers and their sometimes weird behaviour, but too often the author padded them out and made strange cultural comparisons. An amazing amount of research must have been undertaken, and a full listing of sources would have been really useful.
This book is written for people with a more encyclopedic knowledge of soccer, specifically English soccer, than I have. It also is probably written for English people based on the references to their pop culture. As an American without depth in either of those areas, I felt like I read of surface level vignettes about managers that were not engaging, despite Ronay's obvious enthusiasm. The parts that were approachable, or bothered to provide a real backstory, were entertaining, so if you want to read an extended slightly humorous column about soccer figures, it might be for you.
Interesting but it lacks the wit and humour of Barney's more recent writing in The Guardian. Some of the history is a bit of a slog and there's a surprising lack of info on how managers' tactical acumen has evolved, so this is predominantly about the personality/celebrity side more than anything really insightful.
For someone who is a big fan of Ronay's writing for WSC and the Guardian, this book was a big let down. I didn't find it informative or deep enough to justify the fairly dry (for Ronay) tone of it, and it didn't feel like he really put all the effort he could have done into making this a more engaging read.