Amidst all the hullabaloo surrounding United’s defeat of Spurs at the weekend one important factor failed to register on any media Richter scale, even though the tectonic plates shifted alarmingly in its aftermath. Forget the freak goal for one moment, just concentrate on Harry Redknapp’s handling of the situation and you will soon see what I’m on about...
Friendly banter with Lord Ferg at the final whistle hardly provided early evidence of the aftershocks to follow, but you kind of knew that this was no more than the usual chummy winding up of proceedings and nobody in their right mind would have expected anything else. That said, I had harboured hopes that Harry might have launched into a few home truths and, even though I can’t lip read, shunned handshake and flailing arms might have been enough to suggest a rant along the lines of ’Your lads were a disgrace out there over that ***ing goal! Never seen such lack of ***ing sportsmanship from Nani, bloody Scholesy was no better, encouraging ’im like that, and don’t get me started on Rio…’ followed by a quick flounce down the tunnel leaving Fergie looking suitably gob-smacked. Sadly, never destined to happen, mores the pity, although what we got instead was equally refreshing and remarkable in its own way.
As per usual, Redknapp played the print press and assorted media-men like an old violin and this time he gave them exactly what they wanted by deliberately overstepping the mark, insinuating that Clattenburg was bound to cobble together a story with his linesman and stating that it ’was one of the worst refereeing decisions ever’. In normal circumstances the outburst would have been more than enough to get him an FA ban, but Harry was relishing his role at the forefront of a crusade that turned out to be, not one aimed at referees and highlighting their incompetence, but one made on behalf of Freedom of Speech for the Poor Downtrodden [losing] Manager When Facing A Camera. The message was clear - beware the massed ranks of the FA and their restraint rules - and a very smart and extremely well timed message it was too. Indeed, it had the added effect of papering over the cracks of a poor performance on the pitch and also ensured a confrontation with authority so reminiscent of a certain crusty old Scot’s approach that the comparison screamed out to be made, but wasn’t.
To be honest, that comparison has never really been made in the tabloids since, nor will it until United’s manager hands over the mantle of curmudgeon-in-chief, but Harry clearly felt the FA’s bluff and disrepute-busting bluster needed a challenge and there was, literally, no time like the present. I think he’s a good judge and laying it on the line with his ‘no interviews if charged’ intervention was, quite frankly, a masterstroke that has paid off big time. At precisely the moment Ferguson’s much-cultivated reputation as leader-of-the-free-[managers]-world appears to shuffle along with him to retirement, one of his cosy coterie makes a decisive move for future leadership in what will probably be a season, maybe two, down the line. That’s not to say Harry’s after his job (he will never stray too far away from his Sandbanks home) but what it does tell us is that he’s never been closer to another one, with England…and he knows it.
How all this positioning and posturing affects Chelsea will only ever be indirect in nature, but it is nevertheless significant because, no matter how hard we try to ignore them, Spurs are a threat, albeit in the longer term, and any increased levels of influence is a concern. Many will scoff at the use of the word ’influence’ but, if you take the two games at the weekend as examples, you will see how Big Sam emerges from defeat as the gallant underdog deserving better, whereas Harry’s lot, fluke goal or no fluke goal, are deemed unlikely to win against a United team predictably left untainted by controversy. Put another way - imagine if Drogba had scored ’that’ goal and it was JT chasing Clattenburg and not Rio - well, I’m sure you catch my drift. Okay, simply ignore the media coverage, I hear you say, yet it is exactly this biased backdrop that sets the scene for Clattenburg to get things so wrong at Old Trafford [for the away team] in the first place and just imagine how galling it would be if such hometown decisions were transferred to Three Point Lane.
Of course, Harry was never likely to say as much [on the hometown decisions front] knowing full well that any elbow nudging of Fergie’s halo, in any shape or form, was always going to be counterproductive media-wise. No, what we got instead was a glimpse of the wheeler-dealer tactician at work and now that the FA has effectively given him a free rein to say what he damn well pleases on any subject from Clattenburg to Battenburg, we can speculate that they may have already reached their decision on Fabio’s successor. Whether that be the case or not, it’s time for Chelsea fans to jump on the support bandwagon. Looking in the crystal ball for the end of next season, I can see the banners now - ‘Harry for England‘ (with Spurs edging ManU out of a Champions League place), ‘Big Sam for Spurs’ (after taking Blackburn to a Europa Cup place) and ‘Woy for Rovers’ (after a second season of dismal, trophy-less failure). English managers, eh, who’d have ’em?
Friendly banter with Lord Ferg at the final whistle hardly provided early evidence of the aftershocks to follow, but you kind of knew that this was no more than the usual chummy winding up of proceedings and nobody in their right mind would have expected anything else. That said, I had harboured hopes that Harry might have launched into a few home truths and, even though I can’t lip read, shunned handshake and flailing arms might have been enough to suggest a rant along the lines of ’Your lads were a disgrace out there over that ***ing goal! Never seen such lack of ***ing sportsmanship from Nani, bloody Scholesy was no better, encouraging ’im like that, and don’t get me started on Rio…’ followed by a quick flounce down the tunnel leaving Fergie looking suitably gob-smacked. Sadly, never destined to happen, mores the pity, although what we got instead was equally refreshing and remarkable in its own way.
As per usual, Redknapp played the print press and assorted media-men like an old violin and this time he gave them exactly what they wanted by deliberately overstepping the mark, insinuating that Clattenburg was bound to cobble together a story with his linesman and stating that it ’was one of the worst refereeing decisions ever’. In normal circumstances the outburst would have been more than enough to get him an FA ban, but Harry was relishing his role at the forefront of a crusade that turned out to be, not one aimed at referees and highlighting their incompetence, but one made on behalf of Freedom of Speech for the Poor Downtrodden [losing] Manager When Facing A Camera. The message was clear - beware the massed ranks of the FA and their restraint rules - and a very smart and extremely well timed message it was too. Indeed, it had the added effect of papering over the cracks of a poor performance on the pitch and also ensured a confrontation with authority so reminiscent of a certain crusty old Scot’s approach that the comparison screamed out to be made, but wasn’t.
To be honest, that comparison has never really been made in the tabloids since, nor will it until United’s manager hands over the mantle of curmudgeon-in-chief, but Harry clearly felt the FA’s bluff and disrepute-busting bluster needed a challenge and there was, literally, no time like the present. I think he’s a good judge and laying it on the line with his ‘no interviews if charged’ intervention was, quite frankly, a masterstroke that has paid off big time. At precisely the moment Ferguson’s much-cultivated reputation as leader-of-the-free-[managers]-world appears to shuffle along with him to retirement, one of his cosy coterie makes a decisive move for future leadership in what will probably be a season, maybe two, down the line. That’s not to say Harry’s after his job (he will never stray too far away from his Sandbanks home) but what it does tell us is that he’s never been closer to another one, with England…and he knows it.
How all this positioning and posturing affects Chelsea will only ever be indirect in nature, but it is nevertheless significant because, no matter how hard we try to ignore them, Spurs are a threat, albeit in the longer term, and any increased levels of influence is a concern. Many will scoff at the use of the word ’influence’ but, if you take the two games at the weekend as examples, you will see how Big Sam emerges from defeat as the gallant underdog deserving better, whereas Harry’s lot, fluke goal or no fluke goal, are deemed unlikely to win against a United team predictably left untainted by controversy. Put another way - imagine if Drogba had scored ’that’ goal and it was JT chasing Clattenburg and not Rio - well, I’m sure you catch my drift. Okay, simply ignore the media coverage, I hear you say, yet it is exactly this biased backdrop that sets the scene for Clattenburg to get things so wrong at Old Trafford [for the away team] in the first place and just imagine how galling it would be if such hometown decisions were transferred to Three Point Lane.
Of course, Harry was never likely to say as much [on the hometown decisions front] knowing full well that any elbow nudging of Fergie’s halo, in any shape or form, was always going to be counterproductive media-wise. No, what we got instead was a glimpse of the wheeler-dealer tactician at work and now that the FA has effectively given him a free rein to say what he damn well pleases on any subject from Clattenburg to Battenburg, we can speculate that they may have already reached their decision on Fabio’s successor. Whether that be the case or not, it’s time for Chelsea fans to jump on the support bandwagon. Looking in the crystal ball for the end of next season, I can see the banners now - ‘Harry for England‘ (with Spurs edging ManU out of a Champions League place), ‘Big Sam for Spurs’ (after taking Blackburn to a Europa Cup place) and ‘Woy for Rovers’ (after a second season of dismal, trophy-less failure). English managers, eh, who’d have ’em?
