Imagine if Chelsea suddenly announced, out of nowhere, that the club's next manager was definitely going to be English. No exact date on the appointment, and no names specifically, but this much already decided: that whoever it was, and whenever it was, the next person through the door of the gaffer's office at Cobham would be an Englishman, with a valid UK passport and a native grasp of English swear words.
You'd be pretty confused, wouldn't you? You'd certainly struggle to see the logic. Why make this peculiarly narrow decision, you'd want to ask yourself? Why, against the backdrop of an unignorable history of success in English football for foreign coaches, impose this entirely arbitrary restriction on the running of the club when no rule or law (either in football or in the European regulations on employment) insists that you do so? Why go out of your way to shackle yourself, completely voluntarily?
And then you would mournfully shuffle through the likely candidates, and the decision would get no easier to understand. In fact, it would start to look devastating - possibly even suicidal.
Roy Hodgson? Well, maybe that would be OK, in fact. A good manager and an intelligent and likeable man - almost everybody says as much. But, even so, based on his record, and even allowing for the unlikely possibility of a highly fruitful forthcoming period at Liverpool, would he really represent a step on from the present incumbent, when the time comes? Probably not.
Harry Redknapp, then? Hmm.
'Big' Sam Allardyce? I don't think so, really, do you?
Stuart Pearce? No.
Steve McClaren? Well, he's clearly a lot better than a lot of people once gave him credit for, and all power to him for achieving a major turn-around in his fortunes after that nasty business with the umbrella. But would anyone round here genuinely be breaking out in spots and a fever of anticipation at the thought of him being next up after Mr. Ancelotti?
Neil Warnock? Now you're just being satirical.
But, of course, a situation in which the club comes right out and declares that it will choose its next manager off the English-only menu isn't going to happen. And it isn't going to happen primarily because Chelsea aren't stupid. And this has got nothing to do - let's be clear - with any entrenched bias against the idea of an English manager, or with any strong feelings for or against the current catalogue.
It has solely to do, rather, with the club's sensible desire to pursue the best available person at the time, based on his record and aptitude, rather than on his passport. And the best candidate may, indeed, turn out to be English, come the moment when Mr Ancelotti decides that he has had enough (assuming and hoping that's a good few years off). But why tie yourself to the notion when you don't need to?
Yet this is precisely what the FA have decided to do with England. The next England manager, after Fabio Capello, will be English, they have already said - and this despite the fact that it may be two years at least before Capello leaves, so who knows what may happen between now and then? And the idea seems to have gone down rather well, not least among those managers who (wouldn't you know it?) happen to be English. (Redknapp and Allardyce, in particular, sound hugely enthusiastic about the prospect.)
Madness. It's like removing yourself from the driving seat and lashing yourself to the bumper instead. What a good thing it is that clubs aren't run like this.
Some people have noted the flying start that our team has made to the defence of its title this year and somewhat grudgingly pointed out that, impressive though these first four performances have been, the club has had a relatively soft opening to the season, fixture-wise, so nothing too much ought to be inferred.
Rubbish. What these people need to remember is the basic truth behind the old cliché: there are no easy games at this level. Apart from West Ham, obviously.
Same goes for our Champions League group: slightly soft, people are saying, in advance. But is there anything soft about away games in Slovakia and Russia? We're about to find out, I guess, starting tonight. For what it's worth, though, my feeling about the Champions League is the same as my feeling about the Premier League: no easy games. Apart from West Ham.
Incidentally, one final thing: did you notice the eerie parallel between our game on Saturday and Manchester United's at Everton? In both cases the score line was 1-3 when the fourth official held up the board for time added on.
Spooky coincidence, no? The difference, of course, was that, in our match, it was still 1-3 when the final whistle went, whereas in United's, strangely enough, it wasn't. But just for a moment there, we and United were matching each other in the title race, blow for blow. And people say the Premier League isn't as tightly competitive this season.
You'd be pretty confused, wouldn't you? You'd certainly struggle to see the logic. Why make this peculiarly narrow decision, you'd want to ask yourself? Why, against the backdrop of an unignorable history of success in English football for foreign coaches, impose this entirely arbitrary restriction on the running of the club when no rule or law (either in football or in the European regulations on employment) insists that you do so? Why go out of your way to shackle yourself, completely voluntarily?
And then you would mournfully shuffle through the likely candidates, and the decision would get no easier to understand. In fact, it would start to look devastating - possibly even suicidal.
Roy Hodgson? Well, maybe that would be OK, in fact. A good manager and an intelligent and likeable man - almost everybody says as much. But, even so, based on his record, and even allowing for the unlikely possibility of a highly fruitful forthcoming period at Liverpool, would he really represent a step on from the present incumbent, when the time comes? Probably not.
Harry Redknapp, then? Hmm.
'Big' Sam Allardyce? I don't think so, really, do you?
Stuart Pearce? No.
Steve McClaren? Well, he's clearly a lot better than a lot of people once gave him credit for, and all power to him for achieving a major turn-around in his fortunes after that nasty business with the umbrella. But would anyone round here genuinely be breaking out in spots and a fever of anticipation at the thought of him being next up after Mr. Ancelotti?
Neil Warnock? Now you're just being satirical.
But, of course, a situation in which the club comes right out and declares that it will choose its next manager off the English-only menu isn't going to happen. And it isn't going to happen primarily because Chelsea aren't stupid. And this has got nothing to do - let's be clear - with any entrenched bias against the idea of an English manager, or with any strong feelings for or against the current catalogue.
It has solely to do, rather, with the club's sensible desire to pursue the best available person at the time, based on his record and aptitude, rather than on his passport. And the best candidate may, indeed, turn out to be English, come the moment when Mr Ancelotti decides that he has had enough (assuming and hoping that's a good few years off). But why tie yourself to the notion when you don't need to?
Yet this is precisely what the FA have decided to do with England. The next England manager, after Fabio Capello, will be English, they have already said - and this despite the fact that it may be two years at least before Capello leaves, so who knows what may happen between now and then? And the idea seems to have gone down rather well, not least among those managers who (wouldn't you know it?) happen to be English. (Redknapp and Allardyce, in particular, sound hugely enthusiastic about the prospect.)
Madness. It's like removing yourself from the driving seat and lashing yourself to the bumper instead. What a good thing it is that clubs aren't run like this.
Some people have noted the flying start that our team has made to the defence of its title this year and somewhat grudgingly pointed out that, impressive though these first four performances have been, the club has had a relatively soft opening to the season, fixture-wise, so nothing too much ought to be inferred.
Rubbish. What these people need to remember is the basic truth behind the old cliché: there are no easy games at this level. Apart from West Ham, obviously.
Same goes for our Champions League group: slightly soft, people are saying, in advance. But is there anything soft about away games in Slovakia and Russia? We're about to find out, I guess, starting tonight. For what it's worth, though, my feeling about the Champions League is the same as my feeling about the Premier League: no easy games. Apart from West Ham.
Incidentally, one final thing: did you notice the eerie parallel between our game on Saturday and Manchester United's at Everton? In both cases the score line was 1-3 when the fourth official held up the board for time added on.
Spooky coincidence, no? The difference, of course, was that, in our match, it was still 1-3 when the final whistle went, whereas in United's, strangely enough, it wasn't. But just for a moment there, we and United were matching each other in the title race, blow for blow. And people say the Premier League isn't as tightly competitive this season.
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