Reviewed: Harry’s Games: Inside the Mind of Harry Redknapp by John Crace

Win or lose, on the booze.

Harry’s Games: Inside the Mind of Harry Redknapp
John Crace
Constable, 256pp, £18.99

It was the morning after the night before. Tottenham Hotspur had experienced one of their rare and glorious Champions League triumphs, back in 2010, and I was walking to work along Ludgate Hill. The traffic had stopped and I noticed a couple of men waving frantically at a fat jeep waiting at the lights. The driver, it turned out, was Harry Redknapp and the opportunity was too rich to miss. I joined the well-wishers, and when my turn came inevitably panicked and gave the Spurs manager a cheery thumbs up.

A thumbs up! Not that Harry minded. He was waving and grinning and soaking up the good will and backslapping as though there was nowhere he would rather be than stuck in traffic being accosted by over-enthusiastic fans. As John Crace says in his new book about the jowly manager, there is something about Redknapp “that makes you feel as if you know him when you don’t; he has genuine charisma”. Most public figures shirk from encounters with the man (or woman) on the street, whereas “Redknapp gives the impression he enjoys it”.

I can’t call him Redknapp. No one can. He’s Harry (or, to be precise, ’Arry). He’s your friend, one of the boys, a wisecracking avuncular stalwart who you’d have a pint with after the game. Crace says he talks as if he knows you, “as if you’re an old mate with whom he’s sharing a confidence”. You get that feeling just watching him on television, in a post-match interview, when he ribs the journalist and almost winks at the camera. Perhaps my favourite Harry moment was after Spurs beat Man City a couple of years ago to qualify for the Champions League. In the middle of giving an interview to Sky, he starts to cower against the wall, having spotted off-camera a group of players brandishing an ice bucket, which they promptly empty over his head, on camera. Harry takes off his sodden jacket and wipes the rivulets of liquid off his head, smiling all the while. You can’t imagine Alex Ferguson reacting in quite the same way.

Crace shares the love he describes others having for Harry. His book is the work of a football fan: that devoted, tortured breed. I can’t claim to be a true fan – the game doesn’t make me feel pain or joy to that wonderful, ludicrous degree – but I’m married to one (also, like Crace and me, saddled with Spurs). There is something particularly agonised about the Spurs fan, the constant sense of near-greatness, then abject hopelessness; the annual tailing off. Spurs, if you’re not familiar, are grade-one bottlers. All this simply means that Redknapp, as a former Spurs manager, isn’t a straightforward subject for Crace, and Harry’s Game is no hagiography.

Crace’s object is to delve beneath that chirpy East End front, to discover the contradictions in the son of a docker who’d risen to great fortune. He does this not by talking to Redknapp himself but gathering evidence from those around him – the local Portsmouth reporters who followed his every move when he was manager of the club, old team-mates from his playing career, a writer who used to ghost a column for him. No one still close to Redknapp will speak on the record, so much of the book is a collage of sorts, pieced together from old interviews, recollections and quotes from Redknapp’s 1999 biography (in which, wonderfully, there’s chapter called “Win or Lose – on the Booze”, remembering his exuberant playing days at West Ham).

At times the book can feel like the result of someone trying to get dressed in the dark: a cobbled together collection of information from a mass of sources and voices. But it works: Crace succeeds in dismantling the facade of the kind of Olympic-level charmer, who even when in court for tax evasion can seduce a crowd (“this man could put a glass eye to sleep,” said Redknapp of the prosecuting QC). Detail by detail you realise that Harry is more complicated than he seems – he never really wanted to go into management and yet has been one of the most enduring managers in the Premier League; he just wants to be liked and yet has shown remarkable disloyalty to both colleagues and players over the years; he’s brilliant at signing players but bad at keeping them, or, as Crace puts it, “he doesn’t have a nose for stability”. The one consistent message of the book is his devotion to his family and his dogs (the famous Rosie, who lent her name to his suspicious Monaco bank account: “you would be a lucky man to have a wife as lovely as Rosie”).

Now Redknapp’s star has fallen somewhat. QPR, his latest club, has just been relegated and those heady days when he appeared to be a shoe-in for the England manager’s job seem remote. But, as Crace concludes, he’s still going, still managing, still Harry. “Only fans and romantics think that football is all about the glory”, he writes. “It isn’t – it is about survival”.

Rosie future: Redknapp looks on as QPR play Wigan. Photograph: Getty Images.

Sophie Elmhirst is features editor of the New Statesman

This article first appeared in the 13 May 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Eton Mess

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“We can’t do this again”: Labour conference reactions to Jeremy Corbyn’s second victory

Overjoyed members, determined allies and concerned MPs are divided on how to unite.

“I tell you what, I want to know who those 193,229 people are.” This was the reaction of one Labour member a few rows from the front of the stage, following the announcement of Jeremy Corbyn’s victory at the Labour party conference. She was referring to support received by his defeated contender, Owen Smith, who won 38.2 per cent of the vote (to Corbyn’s 61.8 per cent).

But it’s this focus on the leader’s critics – so vehement among many (and there are a lot of them) of his fans – that many politicians, of either side, who were watching his victory speech in the conference hall want to put an end to.

“It’s about unity and bringing us all together – I think that’s what has to come out of this,” says shadow cabinet member and MP for Edmonton Kate Osamor. “It shouldn’t be about the figures, and how many votes, and his percentage, because that will just cause more animosity.”

Osamor, who is supportive of Corbyn’s leadership, is not alone in urging her colleagues who resigned from the shadow cabinet to “remember the door is never shut”.

Shadow minister and member of Labour’s National Executive Committee (NEC) Jon Ashworth – not a Corbyn loyalist, but focusing on making the shadow cabinet work together – shares the sentiment.

Standing pensively in front of the now-empty stage, he tells me he backs shadow cabinet elections (though not for every post) – a change to party rules that has not yet been decided by the NEC. “[It] would be a good way of bringing people back,” he says. “I’ve been involved in discussions behind the scenes this week and I hope we can get some resolution on the issue.”

He adds: “Jeremy’s won, he has to recognise a number of people didn’t vote for him, so we’ve got to unite.”

The former Foreign Secretary Margaret Beckett, another MP on the NEC, is sitting in the audience, looking over some documents. She warns that “it’s impossible to tell” whether those who resigned from Corbyn’s shadow cabinet would be willing to return, and is concerned about talent being wasted.

“We have a lot of excellent people in the party; there are new people now in the shadow cabinet who have had a chance to show their mettle but you need experience as well as ability,” she says.

Beckett, who has urged Corbyn to stand down in the past, hopes “everybody’s listening” to his call for unity, but questions how that will be achieved.

“How much bad blood there is among people who were told that there was plotting [against Corbyn], it’s impossible to tell, but obviously that doesn’t make for a very good atmosphere,” she says. “But Jeremy says we’ll wipe the slate clean, so let’s hope everybody will wipe the slate clean.”

It doesn’t look that way yet. Socialist veteran Dennis Skinner is prowling around the party conference space outside the hall, barking with glee about Corbyn’s defeated foes. “He’s trebled the membership,” he cries. “A figure that Blair, Brown and Prescott could only dream about. On average there’s more than a thousand of them [new members] in every constituency. Right-wing members of the parliamentary Labour party need to get on board!”

A call that may go unheeded, with fervent Corbyn allies and critics alike already straying from the unity message. The shadow justice secretary Richard Burgon is reminding the PLP that, “Jeremy’s won by a bigger margin this time”, and telling journalists after the speech that he is “relaxed” about how the shadow cabinet is recruited (not a rallying cry for shadow cabinet elections).

“If Jeremy wants to hold out an olive branch to the PLP, work with MPs more closely, he has to look very seriously at that [shadow cabinet elections]; it’s gone to the NEC but no decision has been made,” says Louise Ellman, the Liverpool MP and transport committee chair who has been critical of Corbyn’s leadership. “That might not be the only way. I think he has to find a way of working with MPs, because we’re all elected by millions of people – the general public – and he seems to dismiss that.”

“If he sees it [his victory] as an endorsement of how he’s been operating up until now, the problems which led to the election being called will remain,” Ellman warns. “If we’re going to be a credible party of government, we’ve got to reach out to the general electorate. He didn’t say anything about that in his speech, but I hope that perhaps now he might feel more confident to be able to change direction.”

Corbyn may have called for cooperation, but his increased mandate (up from his last stonking victory with 59.5 per cent of the vote) is the starkest illustration yet of the gulf between his popularity in Parliament and among members.

The fact that one attempt at a ceasefire in the party’s civil war – by allowing MPs to vote for some shadow cabinet posts – is in contention suggests this gulf is in danger of increasing.

And then where could the party be this time next year? As Osamor warns: “We should not be looking at our differences, because when we do that, we end up thinking it’s a good thing to spend our summer having another contest. And we can’t. We can’t do this again.”

Anoosh Chakelian is deputy web editor at the New Statesman.