by Carson, Mike
Howard Wilkinson’s direct style lends itself well to tough conversations. It also inspired his team at Leeds to be direct in their dealings with him, and with each other. In the League Division One (then the English top flight) title run-in in spring 1992, Wilkinson’s Leeds side looked to have lost all chance of winning when they conceded four goals at Manchester City, leaving Manchester United ahead on points and with games in hand. ‘I went in on the Monday and said, “Here’s my plan for the next five games. We can win four; we’ve got to draw the other one, at Liverpool. On the penultimate game of the season we play Sheffield United in the morning, and Manchester United have to go to Liverpool in the afternoon. If we do what I say, we may just put pressure on them to get a result from that game and I don’t think they will. So I’ll pick the same team every week, unless we get injuries, but against Liverpool I’ll make one change.” The next morning Gordon Strachan, who was captain, came in and said to me, “I’ve come to save you the embarrassment and tell you to leave me out when we play Liverpool. Don’t give me any bull**** about you want to keep me fresh for the home game. We need one point there as you say, and you’re right I’m not the best person to get one.” Wilkinson had been direct with the team, and Strachan had been direct with him. The clarity was inspiring, and all was well in the Leeds camp. Strachan was on the bench for the Liverpool match, they got the draw and Leeds won the title.
If for any reason it becomes impossible to have the tough conversation, matters can spiral rapidly out of hand. Martin Jol describes such a situation. ‘I always try to speak to my players individually. Sometimes I don’t like a player because I know he doesn’t like me – but I still invite him into my office. With one player it went:
Me:
Come into my office ...
Player:
I won’t come into your office.
Me:
We have to talk about the situation.
Player:
I don’t want to talk about the situation.
He basically stopped talking to people, and if you stop talking to people you can’t play any more.’
Direct clear feedback given in the moment is a light form of tough conversation. It prevents something festering and growing into a bigger problem. Wilkinson appreciated the way his great goalscorer, Lee Chapman, went about his business: ‘I used to use statistics in my feedback. Lee Chapman is an intelligent man, and he knew how many crosses we needed for him to get a goal. So he was red hot. He’d come in at half-time and he’d be saying to a teammate, “You should have crossed it. If you’d have got it in, I could have scored. I need more of those.” This created trust in the dressing room. The player comes back with, “No, actually I couldn’t” – and he explains why, or he says, “Yes, you are right – sorry.” Fine ... end of argument. The two agree. You need that level of honesty in order to be able to conflict and resolve. Because then he’s dealing with the problem – otherwise it’s left to fester. For me, that’s Lee Chapman taking hold of his own career a little bit and saying, “I’ve got ownership. I know what I need to do, but I also know what others need to do.” And then they by their token can say, “I know what I need to do but I know what you need to do, Chappy.” This sort of live feedback is gold dust to a team.’
When the manager gives feedback, though, the key is to remember why you’re giving it. Dario Gradi is committed to the growth of players and uses his feedback for this purpose: ‘When managers talk to players, they should make sure it’s the players that feel better for the conversation and not the manager. The manager has got something off his chest and he’s pleased, but if the bloke feels attacked then he is worse off. When you shout a name and the player responds, he’s effectively saying “I want the knowledge – what are you going to tell me?” It might be that he’s playing too far up the pitch or needs to play a bit quicker. You don’t say “What the bloody hell are you doing that for? You’ve just given that away!” He knows he’s given the ball away, and shouting at him is not going to help him at all.
‘That’s the key thing: can you say something of benefit to the player? That’s very difficult to do. It’s a very passionate game, and when managers are leaping about on the sidelines, I don’t think it helps their players. Commentators say, “Oh, he’s showing great passion, players must be impressed by that.” Actually, a lot of players pretend they haven’t heard the manager when he’s shouting from the sidelines! They’ve done that to me. They don’t want to hear me, and I’ve spoken to them about it afterwards, but I’ve got past that. I think most of them now appreciate that I’m trying to help them, which perhaps I wasn’t in the past. We all still get it wrong sometimes, but at least if we’re conscious of the fact that it’s not the best way of behaving, we might be able to do something about it.’
Build a strong dressing room
Feedback helps to build a strong dressing room. This is a place where players feel at home, can speak honestly, are unafraid, don’t get beaten up.
Wenger is committed to a strong dressing room – through a strong captain: ‘The captain is basically the messenger of the manager. I always think that when a relationship between a captain and a manager is strong, it makes the team stronger and it makes the manager stronger. When that relationship splits, the club is in trouble because there is nothing worse for the team than to get two different messages from two different leaders. That’s why I believe that for a manager it is important to spend time with the captain. We speak about what he thinks the team needs, and about any special difficulties inside the dressing room. He mustn’t tell you everything, and usually they don’t – there are normally some things they don’t want to tell you that belong specifically to the dressing room and I respect that. However, there needs to be trust and that trust is built by going through a season together. That relationship is the difference between losing six games on the trot and only losing two or three – with that solidarity, they get together to turn it around.’
David Moyes admits his gratitude to former Everton captain Phil Neville for strong leadership: ‘I found him an incredible leader behind the scenes with the players. He’s somebody who I could speak with. I could ask how he thought things were; I could ask him personally what did he think about what we’d done. But more importantly he is the one who would keep the players in line; he’s the one who would lead from the front of the training. He trains every day, does his best every day. So there is an example being set by this player for all the young players to look to and say: “This is the standard and the level I have to train at and the level of professionalism if I want to play internationally. And if I want longevity as well, I have to look after my body, make sure my training is correct, listen, and learn.”’
Martin Jol builds a strong dressing room by creating a team spine: ‘It can be the goalkeeper – it doesn’t have to be but it could be – it’s always at the centre at the back, it’s in midfield and it’s up front. So it’s a spine, and in my spine I always try to have strong, experienced players. In the perfect world I would get my spine of players in for a conversation every three or four weeks. (Last year it happened only twice!) Then, of course, the captain is important. You can’t always choose your own captain, of course. In Germany I could, but at Tottenham, Ledley King was already the club captain. He’s a very good guy, so I absolutely didn’t want to change it – but I can imagine that if [the existing captain] is a strong fan of the former manager, you could end up with a problem in creating a new, different football culture.’
The Guide
A lot of work is done behind the scenes, and the world will see only a very small part of it. It is no surprise that – just like complex organisations – human beings are more complex than the small part we get to see. But how should a leader work productively with that complexity? Wenger’s answer to the problem is clear and simple: ‘For me, being a football manager is being a guide. A guide is someone who leads people somewhere. That means he has to identify what he wants in a clear way, convin
ce everybody else that is where we go together and then try to get the best out of each individual. Overall if you want to be a guide you have to question yourself, be somebody who can get the best out of people, and be convincing.’ While the watching world is seeing the outcome, guides take time to think and work at all levels of the iceberg. Here are the lessons from guiding leaders in the world of football.
1. Think first of the root causes, not the behaviour itself:
When seeing a behaviour – especially a disruptive one – it is easy just to confront it at face value. Far more powerful is to work below the water line of the iceberg.
2. Work with people on an emotional level:
As Wenger says: ‘There are times when words are not important – it is like a dance.’ Too many leaders dismiss emotions as time-consuming and irrelevant. But emotions are a powerful driver of behaviour. And the leader who can tap into them can inspire feelings of contentment, self-worth and even elation.
3. Establish your own values:
A leader who can articulate and act out strong principles from an early stage will find that they permeate his organisation, providing clarity and meaning. People have stronger radars for values than we think. They pick up on a leader’s values, and know intuitively when they are pursuing or departing from them.
4. Know your own motivation and seek it in others:
Wenger is motivated by the game of football itself and by a personal quest for excellence. He looks for the same thing in others – and those who share these beliefs are drawn to him. Perhaps more strongly than anything, this is at the heart of Arsenal’s success.
5. Address deep needs head-on:
A leader who can create belonging and fulfilment in the work of his people will affect them at the deepest level, get the most out of them and inspire deep loyalty.
6. Set clear boundaries and empower people to live within them:
Back at the top of the iceberg, a leader establishes guidelines in the spirit of creating clarity and expecting personal ownership. As Hope Powell says: ‘I’m not their mother!’
7. Have the tough conversations:
When values are ignored and behaviours are getting out of hand, the organisation will be in danger of disruption. The guiding leader then needs to have the tough conversation that will clear the air and get the team back on track.
CHAPTER FOUR
BUILDING HIGH-PERFORMING TEAMS
THE BIG IDEA
In football – as in business, government and all places where significant tasks fall to teams of people – leadership is a complex challenge. Tactically, the modern game is in continuous change; physically, mentally and emotionally it is ever more demanding on teams and individual players.
In many businesses today, more and more is demanded from existing (or even declining) resources, and in times of great economic challenge, the need for transformation is overlaid on the daily round of business as usual.
The senior professionals do not do it alone. They build, develop, nurture and sustain a leadership team, and together that team leads an organisation to deliver against the demands of the business. Whether that team is in football or a global corporation, the core leadership challenges remain the same.
THE MANAGER
Sam Allardyce began his professional football career in the Bolton Wanderers defence in 1973; and it was back at that same club that he came of age as a manager. In the eight seasons from 1999–2007, Bolton were transformed under his leadership from a small but proud club to genuine European competitors. Fielding such luminaries as the World Cup-winning Youri Djorkaeff, former Real Madrid Captain Iván Campo and the excellent Jay-Jay Okocha, Allardyce’s side regularly defeated their more illustrious English neighbours, finishing sixth in the Premier League in 2004–05 – level on points with Rafa Benitez’s European Champions up the road in Liverpool. After Bolton, Allardyce managed at Newcastle briefly and then at Blackburn Rovers for three seasons, before joining West Ham in 2011. In his first season at Upton Park, he guided the Hammers back to the Barclays Premier League via a play-off final victory at Wembley against Blackpool.
His Philosophy
The man they call Big Sam is truly a big man in every sense of the word. Big frame, big heart, big vision, big ideas. Surprisingly self-effacing, he is nonetheless rock sure in his opinions. He knows where he wants to take a club, and will pursue his vision with passion and determination just as long as his employers will back him. Perhaps his most telling attribute, though, is the manner with which he welcomes change. From new technology to new psychologies, Allardyce wants to be at the cutting edge. And far from feeling concerned about how leadership teams seem to have grown, he brings expert colleagues on board with eagerness and expectation.
The Battle
For the manager, the day-to-day can feel like a battle royal. Forces are amassed against you. Opposition tactics, media challenges, public expectation, disciplinary issues, a hectic schedule, uncertainty, anxiety, injuries and exhaustion. It raises the question: why would you try to deal with all this on your own?
Allardyce sees his work very much as a battle, and his core response has been to establish a close-knit leadership team around him that he can rely on without hesitation. At Bolton, their headquarters was known as the ‘war room’. ‘We had our dreams and our war room; and we established a siege mentality, with an aim to break out of the Championship while everyone was trying to stop us. We turned the challenge to our own advantage, and the confidence of the club grew.’ As we shall see, Allardyce’s approach to creating a high-performing playing team is to create a high-performing leadership team.
Like Allardyce, Tony Pulis looks to close colleagues to support him in bearing the burden of enormous expectation – especially in the heat of the battle. He says of his time at Stoke: ‘I was very fortunate to have had my coaching staff with me for quite a few years. I trust my staff and if I were to miss anything I would hope that the staff would see it and pick up on it. That 90 minutes is a very emotional time, and when I watch myself on TV on the touchline sometimes I can’t believe what I am doing! I just get so wrapped up in the game. I want to win so badly for everybody, and the weight of expectation for the city of Stoke was enormous. Sometimes I feel as if it comes down to just me to get the result that everybody wants. I have to be able to control the emotion, work with it, manage it and stay focused. My staff help me a great deal.’
Football managers speak of three core areas of challenge where teamwork can have real impact: complexity (problem-solving leadership), technology change (expert leadership) and people (values-based leadership).
Complexity
There is a great deal of complexity in the modern game. Governance, stakeholder interest, societal pressures – all are significantly more demanding and harder to unravel than in any previous era. And right at the heart of the manager’s trade, the game is evolving too. Changes to rules, attitudes and information mean that football – much like the world around it – is constantly shifting. Howard Wilkinson is excited by the changes: ‘Since 1992–93, when the Premier League began, there have been many gradual changes in football. There have been changes to the rules, starting with the back-pass rule, then the tackle from behind, then the offside rule. At the same time, standards of fitness and preparation have gone up; in tandem with that the quality of players has gone up. Even the pitch has got bigger. The whole game is tactically more complex. Teams can outperform the competition for a short time, like Chelsea’s finish to the 2012 Champions League – determination, a solid organisation and a smattering of luck. But you couldn’t play like that for a season.’ World-class teamwork is essential for real success in such a changing and complex environment.
Allardyce’s own experience at Newcastle United is a salient example of complexity. Fresh from his long-term success at Bolton, he signed a three-year contract for the historic and passionate Tyneside club in May 2007, but a series of poor results led to his resignation just eight months later. Reflect
ing on the experience, he says: ‘Newcastle United was the right club at the wrong time for me. I wanted to build something like I’d built at Bolton – to take the same long-term view. But I knew that 95 per cent of my energy would be spent convincing the Newcastle supporters that this team was going to improve. They’d finished 14th the previous year – when I left Bolton, we were fifth. That’s why I got the job – because they had Michael Owen and other quality players and should have finished higher.
‘In the initial stages I did win over the fans, but then it went downhill. Newcastle had always blessed their manager with a decent transfer budget, but had never really achieved expectations. Then they have 52,000 highly motivated, but also highly critical fans every week. So it was going to be a big challenge, and I knew I needed to restructure everything on the football side. Most of the staff from Bolton wanted to follow me, and we knew we could attract the balance with good recruitment policies. Then we needed to improve what was already a relatively good side, adding players and creating a high-performing team. But as we were getting started, suddenly the club was sold and then the transfer budget of £30 million came down to £14 million due to the club’s debts at the time of sale. European football had recovered, transfer fees had gone way up and you have to pay foreign players a lot to attract them to the location – Newcastle isn’t as attractive as Manchester and Manchester isn’t as attractive as London. That became a very difficult thing to deal with and in the end, Mike Ashley took the line of, “I never picked him anyway – he wasn’t my manager.” So in the January, that was it.’