Sport
The fan - Hunter Davies is available (with own pencil) for Sven's job
Published 13 February 2006
Who would I pick for the job? Hiddink . . . and I think the FA will as well
I always dread during my three weeks away every January that something really awful terrible frightful will happen in my absence and I won't know about it until long after - something absolutely earth-shattering, like Rooney getting injured, Carlisle United collapsing, or Spurs signing another dozen midfield nobodies.
For the first two weeks, I was well in touch. At breakfast at Cobblers Cove in Barbados you get given a four-page faxed digest of the British news, plus that morning's Barbados Advocate. Cotton House in Mustique now does even better, giving you a copy of almost any morning paper you might want, from anywhere in the world - the whole paper, not a digest - taken from the internet but printed locally. It meant I was
reading that morning's Times earlier than I can read it in London.
Those are the perks you get if you stay at a posh hotel.
But in the third week, we were in a rented room in Bequia, a little island in the Grenadines, cut off from all news, with not even a local paper to read. It was agony. Sorry, just slipped out. Yes, of course, pet, we don't go to the Caribbean to worry about stupid football results and transfers. How could I have even thought of it?
The minute I got home, I found that something BIG had happened during that last week. And it wasn't something I dreaded, but excellent news: Sven has got the push. Naturally, it should have been kept quiet that he's going after the World Cup, just as Tony Blair should have kept private his intention to pack it in. It's unnecessarily unsettling for all those concerned when such things are known so far ahead.
So who'll get Sven's job? I see it as only a part-time occupation,
suitable for someone of mature years, whose whole life revolves around watching football, and who never leaves before the end; who will not get into a leg-over situation in the office, mainly 'cos he would work from home and anyway his leg is too knackered. Yes, I'm thinking about myself. I could do it. No problem. Got my own pencil.
Alas, I fear the FA will not be so sensible, preferring someone younger with a proven track record in professional football. Someone, say, who earned 57 caps for England, starred in a World Cup semi-final, who has had experience of playing in Italy and China as well as top clubs in England and Scotland, who has already made his mark as a coach - in fact they still talk about him with some awe and wonderment at Boston United and Kettering. Yes, step forward Gazza.
Well, if Jurgen Klinsmann can manage Germany at a similar age, and with no coaching experience, and if Stuart Pearce, equally young, seen as a thicko and known as Psycho in his playing days, has now turned into a serious possibility, then the FA may well surprise us all with someone unexpected and inexperienced.
But I'm sure they'll play safe, go for someone with a good track record as an international manager, who knows the world scene, has managed in many countries, which none of the English-born contenders like Curbs, Big Sam and McClaren have done; who is mature, yet shows he still cares passionately about football and not just the money, unlike Sven; someone who has done an excellent job with unfancied countries like South Korea and Australia, and would now see managing England as a step up and an honour.
Yup, Guus Hiddink. He is the one I would pick, and I think the FA will as well. Who cares if he's foreign? The Dutch speak better English than most English players. True Brits like Kevin Keegan, Glenn Hoddle and Graham Taylor didn't do nuffink for us. So many of Britain's big firms and institutions are now run by foreigners. We're a multicultured country.
And who minds if, as a single man, he could be caught with his leg over? The News of the World has got to have its fun. Girls need kiss'n'tell money. And Scottish sub-editors will really enjoy playing with his name. Guus is apparently pronounced "hoose", as in "there's a wee moose in the hoose". Let him in, I say . . .
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