From virtually the first day of his retirement at the age of 60, Bill Shankly regretted his choice. He watched Liverpool become a dominant European force, suffered the ignominy of his beloved club banning him from Melwood and watched on with some discomfort as he aged quickly and football aged even quicker without him.
When Shankly passed away in 1981, only seven years after leaving Anfield, the death certificate recorded two cardiac arrests. Johnny Giles, the former Leeds United midfielder, thought differently: “I believe Bill Shankly died of a broken heart”.
That is the deal every football manager makes with the devil for the game they love. Somewhere along the line, the buzz, the butterflies, the glory and the graft becomes something that sits between addiction and crutch. If the phone keeps ringing, you can’t ignore its incessant shrill sound.
Before Roy Hodgson left Crystal Palace last May, he remarked that his career might well have ended a decade earlier. Had he seen out the entirety of his three-year contract at Liverpool, presumably with the trophies or progress that achievement would have necessitated, it would have been a fitting end.
Who is he kidding? The offers kept coming despite Hodgson’s Liverpool failure. Would he really have turned down the chance to manage England or his hometown club? Or, by that stage, was Hodgson as much a football manager as he was a human being, committed to its ebbs and flows and peaks and troughs as so many before him who either struggled to give it up or regretted it as soon as they had?
Hodgson himself has made the comparison with David Attenborough, another man for whom age is just a number and who loves his work as much now as he did 50 years ago.
At the age of 74, Hodgson will break his own record as the oldest manager in Premier League history and become the oldest manager in English professional football by almost eight years. The jokes will suggest that he should be pottering around his garden rather than padding touchlines and there must be some concern about fatigue.
The Premier League is a chaotic tangle of pressures and noise that drains the energy of those who work in it. Add to that the unique strains of a relegation battle, and Hodgson will be tested like never before in club football.
But then there is some logic to this relationship. Watford, by design or by circumstance, have become a club embroiled in short-termism. None of their last 12 managers have lasted more than 70 matches. All that upheaval presents Watford as a yo-yo club that has only been relegated once in the last 14 years. Appointing a wizened old head, with experience in the division, strikes as far more sensible than handing out another two-year contract to someone who will be fortunate to make the halfway point.
Watford are now grasping at the emergency cord. They conceded almost two-and-a-half goals per game under Claudio Ranieri and if that continues they will be relegated. Hodgson is not the perfect manager – nor would he pretend to be – but he does retain an ability to organise a defence.
If his attacking strategy can often be a little formulaic, Watford’s biggest strength is the unpredictability of their attack when Ismaila Sarr and Emmanuel Dennis are both fit. And he will at least have a fortnight to prepare for his first match, an outrageously important trip to Turf Moor.
And how could Hodgson say no? Wherever you are wanted, within reason, you go. Whenever a club sounds the alarm and reaches for your name, you consider it an honour. The age doesn’t matter to you if the age doesn’t matter to them. It might get harder and the options might provide decreasing chances of success or long-term impact, but that doesn’t change the truth: football managers can never retire from football; football retires you.
from Football – inews.co.uk https://ift.tt/3r1WUzs
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