Brave New World

by Guillem Balague

  When it comes upon us, it can cause bad moods, negativity, inattentiveness and a lack of clarity. We no longer see what a player is or isn’t capable of. Our problem-solving capacity goes to the dogs – and we become erratic, whereas consistency is key when you’re leading a group of fifty-plus people.

  And, worst of all, we stop seeing the extraordinary in the seemingly ordinary – which is one of the things that sets us apart as humans.

  Although I consider myself a good delegator, and Karina and Jesús are there to help keep my life in order and screen out many things, the demands are relentless. I have to liaise with the chairman, agents and the academy. Recently I’ve concluded that individual meetings with players are very productive. I’ve also got to ensure Miki, Jesús, Toni and I are all on the same page.

  Arsène Wenger once said that ‘a coach’s face is a mirror of his team’s well-being’. Sir Alex Ferguson has stated that he spent more time looking after his people than taking care of himself, and that he sometimes regrets it. A manager’s first responsibility, he asserted, is to himself. If you don’t eat well and stay fresh, it’s impossible to keep your emotions on an even keel.

  But it’s easier said than done when you love what you do and a modus operandi has been established – one which I endorse – under which all decisions are elaborated collectively, even though the final decision is mine.

  Of course, there are times when I feel like my mind is bogged down and, as a consequence, I get the impression that I’m no longer being creative on the pitch. Amid so many meetings, my ability to devise new ways to work with the group, new exercises, is impaired. The other day, John McDermott told me something that stuck with me, which he had heard Graham Taylor say: ‘Make sure you’re not too tired to think.’ Graham used to give his staff a week off during the season in which they weren’t allowed anywhere near the training ground. He deemed it essential so that they would have sufficient energy come April and May. It takes strength to lead by example like that. Perhaps I’ll have to give up this profession in six or seven years. I enjoy my job with an almost child-like enthusiasm, but the frenetic pace can be hellish.

  It’s when you feel exhausted that mental fortitude kicks in: are you capable of continuing to make decisions until you’re on the mend? It’s not so much about taking days off; the group comes first and I’d practically have to be on my deathbed to stay at home. Rather, to combat tiredness, you have to do things like find a place where you can recuperate.

  The training ground is our HQ and it’s very comfortable but, inevitably, it’s awash with emotional, physical and psychological noise. That’s why sometimes I need to go somewhere quiet to recharge my batteries.

  When I turn up at the academy manager’s office out of the blue and plonk myself down on the sofa by the window, which is slightly hidden from view, he knows what I’m doing there, that I need to unwind. We either chit-chat or don’t talk at all.

  There are other ways of getting away from it all and taking your mind off things. I found spare hours that I didn’t think I had to watch a fascinating television series, House of Cards. I recommended it to everyone. My wife and I binged on it; it’s TV at its finest. It contains examples of leadership, both good and bad, plus lessons in strategy and politics. And then there’s Claire Underwood. Every man’s dream. All the staff are big fans of Claire.

  The chairman has arranged a trip to Argentina after the game at the Emirates. The change of scenery will do us all good. It remains to be seen whether or not we head there on a high.

  I’m going to leave this diary behind – like a thief in the night, it too is robbing me of rest.

  *

  While we’re struggling to perform at the level to which we aspire, Arsenal are on form: they’ve won 11 of their last 12 games in all competitions. They’re three points ahead of us at the top of the table. I’ve just been told that this is the best start Tottenham have ever made to a league season and that we’re the only unbeaten side in all four divisions. I haven’t lost any of my four meetings with Arsenal so far and no manager in Spurs’ history has gone five without defeat. How necessary perspective is – and what sweet reading statistics can sometimes make.

  The build-up has been bumpy, just for a change. Ben Davies has an ankle niggle. Érik Lamela, formerly a nailed-on starter, is going through all sorts of difficulties and won’t be back for a while. And it doesn’t stop there. After the Leverkusen game, I decided that we needed reinvigoration. When the players are flagging, you’ve got to switch things up tactically. We’re having trouble going forward, we keep attacking down the same side and the full-backs aren’t delivering everything they’re expected to, so I thought it would be a good idea to change formation.

  We watched some footage of Arsenal, picked the line-up and then did a tactical session to prepare the players for certain things that could happen in the match and explain how the new system should work. But then, in the last few minutes, Dele Alli got injured. It was important to react well and I asked the remaining ten players to continue with the tactical drills. It was my way of telling them that they were doing well and nothing had changed.

  The good news is that Harry Kane is back. I’m going to throw him into the starting XI: we need a breath of fresh air.

  At my pre-match press conference, I highlighted the fact that Arsenal, despite all the criticism of Wenger, deserve praise. They are one of the most consistent clubs in world football, because they’ve been at more or less the same level for the last two decades. We, on the other hand, are still progressing as a club and team – we’re at totally different stages.

  One more thing. Miki, Jesús, Toni and I tip our hat to Arsène and all his staff. Arsenal are perhaps our biggest enemy in footballing terms but we’ve never had any problems with them. They behave excellently on the touchline. Having been doing this for 20 years, Wenger could conduct himself arrogantly or believe that he’s above the rest, but he’s shown us nothing but respect.

  *

  6 November. We’ve just played against Arsenal.

  Although Dele Alli said he was fit, we didn’t want to run any risks with him. One of the other players hadn’t slept well, another had a stomach ache and another’s foot was bothering him. And we didn’t know whether Harry Kane would be able to manage more than an hour. Kick-off was at 1 p.m. and in the morning we were still plagued by doubts. Some of them were eradicated in the warm-up. In the meantime, we had to keep calm – both outwardly and inside. We knew we could deliver a good performance.

  In the end, things went almost entirely as we’d hoped. We came out strongly, didn’t back down and created chances, whereas they didn’t have many and the ones they did have were largely the product of us giving the ball away and making mistakes.

  We went for a three-man defence against Arsenal. Without Lamela, we’re short on attacking wide men. The injuries to Alli and Alderweireld have weakened us through the middle. Rose and Walker can operate perfectly well as wing-backs. A 3-5-2 also meant that Kane wouldn’t be isolated, as he’d have Son Heung-min up top alongside him. The risk of getting exposed at the back was minimised by our pressing effectively when we lost possession.

  The new-look formation left a good taste in our mouths. Now there is talk of us having a plan B, or even a plan C. Before people used to criticise us on that front, saying that the team always played the same way, but that’s not true. We may have continually lined up in a 4-2-3-1 to begin with, but through non-stop movement and positional interchange, how we attacked would vary depending on the opposition and the state of play.

  We went behind just before the break, but we didn’t feel we were being outplayed – far from it. Harry Kane, who ended up playing 73 minutes, equalised from the penalty spot early in the second half. And we had clear chances to win the game. In any case, the most important thing was to give a better account of ourselves after the disappointing display against Leverkusen.

  At my press conference, I was asked to describe Mousa Dembélé �
�� who had to come off in the first half of the Champions League match, but was magnificent today – in one word. When he’s on his game, he gives us something different, so I went for ‘genius’. Now we’ll have to make sure he keeps his feet on the ground. I’ll give him a little clip round the ear when I see him.

  *

  One last entry before I take a break from this diary for a few days. I love having my people around me. Seeing Toni, Miki and Jesús nodding off on the plane brought to mind one night back in Southampton, at the hotel where we lived for the first six months. It was an intense period, an enjoyable apprenticeship. Our workdays began at seven in the morning at the buffet and ended at nine or ten at night. The hotel didn’t have satellite TV, so we had to make use of obscure websites in order to watch football matches. Since the Wi-Fi signal wasn’t great everywhere, sometimes we’d set up shop with the computer in the middle of the restaurant, the four of us hunching over the screen trying to decipher what was going on in a game. We watched as much football as we could. One Thursday, the Europa League was being shown on terrestrial television and I suggested we go and watch it in my bedroom. Jesús sat on the couch, Miguel was in a chair and Toni lay next to me on the bed. Five minutes later, we had all fallen asleep. When I woke up, the other three had left. That story epitomises those days.

  Jesús was the last addition to the gang. Every coach needs someone who they can trust implicitly – an extension of themselves in the dressing room, on the training pitch, in the gym and in everyday life to boot, because ultimately a rapport like that can’t just be built through work. Ramón Planes brought him to Espanyol and from day one I felt comfortable sharing my knowledge with him, and my vision for the future. He has gone on to become one of the key figures in my career.

  He initially joined the club to provide methodological assistance to the youth set-up and the Under-21s, but it wasn’t long before he started working with first-team players who were coming back from injury or needed extra conditioning. At the beginning of the following season, the person responsible for editing videos of the opposition left for Barcelona. I’d paid for an analysis programme, which featured cameras and whatnot, out of my own pocket and I asked him to help me with it. Little by little, my way of thinking rubbed off on him. This was a time when he was arguably lacking a bit of love for football – he saw it as just a job. Right away, I realised that he had a great work ethic and was hugely adept at understanding new things. It just so happens that I parted company with the fitness coach I’d been working with – Feliciano Di Blasi, who was from the old school – and so I brought Jesús into the fold.

  ‘What do you want to earn?’ I asked him early on.

  ‘Whatever you give me. I know you will always value me well. I will never give you a figure.’ And that is how we have worked since then.

  Jesús humbly says that when he came on board, we were already on course, but I’ve grown a great deal since I met him, and especially since we put together our current group. Together, the four of us have risen to a whole different level. Their commitment and intelligence continually push me to better myself and challenge me. We’re a humble group which is free of egos, which is essential in order to constantly be improving. In football, you never get the ideal scenario – there’s always something amiss. That’s why we’ve got to adapt to what we’ve got, which is something they help me do.

  Certainly, the leader of a group is usually the person who embarks on a path, before being joined by others along the way. But the beauty is that it’s not the ‘Mauricio Pochettino method’: it’s a group effort. We are a coaching team who believe in a way of working, a way of playing and a way of living; that’s what matters most. The goal isn’t to feel safe or protected, but rather to enjoy what we do, and to share emotions and ideas, and when it comes down to it, I have the final word. It’s fundamental that we safeguard all these things from day to day.

  On occasion, people have asked me whether I would be better served by shaking up my coaching staff in search of new stimuli and to avoid becoming so enamoured with our philosophy that I refrain from constantly putting it to the test. But I’m surrounded by three guys who are hungry to improve and learn, so I don’t need to make changes.

  Miki has been a great friend of mine since our teenage years. We met in Newell’s youth ranks when we were 17 or 18; we shared many a moment when we were both dreamers. Our girlfriends later met one another and we’d spend long days together eating and watching football and basketball together; it was the Chicago Bulls’ heyday. I had a car and I’d go and pick him up on the way to training. Miki says that those journeys to Bellavista from the centre of Rosario, where we lived, were always a lot of fun – in spite of the music we listened to, which I’d always choose. One day he broke the door of my Fiat Uno. As we were about to get out of the car, I said to him, ‘Careful, Miki, it’s windy.’ He opened the door and the wind ripped it clean off! Truth be told, it was about as sturdy as a toy car, but for years I jokingly went on at him about how he’d broken the door of my Fiat and never reimbursed me for the damage.

  He, too, experienced those interminable training camps organised by Marcelo Bielsa at the Funes Military College, on the outskirts of Rosario, which we only left in order to play matches. We used to talk to the fitness coaches a lot; physical preparation is something that’s always interested us, and to which I always pay careful attention with my teams. Our favourite pastimes were ping-pong and a couple of other games; we also had restricted use of a television and VCR, meaning we were able to watch films once in a while. It wasn’t easy to be away from our families for such long periods. Nowadays I try to ensure my players can be at home as much as possible – there’s nothing like the comfort of sleeping in your own bed.

  Those fitness coaches were the old-school sort, the type that ‘punished’ you. The sessions were really tough. When I got promoted to Newell’s reserve team, who were coached by Marcelo at the time, I was placed in the hands of a fitness coach by the name of Trusendi, who told me I was a little chubby and made me train wearing a sweater on top of my shirt. Pre-season was in January, so it was extremely hot and muggy in Rosario.

  Still, Miki and I laughed a lot together in that prison.

  Karina and I served as witnesses at his civil wedding ceremony. Then followed a period when we went our separate ways and he spent time in Ecuador, Mexico and France, but the idea of working together one day was always in the back of our minds. When opportunity knocked, I offered him a job at Espanyol, asking him to film our training sessions. At the training ground we built a tower made from scaffolding pipes so Miki could start filming. It is still there. Gusts of wind would always be blowing and there was Miguel clinging on for dear life while recording. His reward for putting himself through this major health and safety hazard was coming with us to Southampton.

  Jesús is tasked with channelling all the information we get from the sports science and medical departments, and handling a whole host of things so that they reach me in a digestible format. I also have him by my side at press conferences in case there’s something I don’t understand. He’s present for most of my conversations with club staff. Miki, meanwhile, runs the analysis and scouting operation, and Toni is in charge of everything related to goalkeeper training.

  My relationship with Toni is a whole other story – an up-and-down journey that I’ll return to later.

  Toni lives with his wife, Eva, near the training ground. He has a 32-year-old son, Enric, who lives in Granollers; another son, 22-year-old Toni Junior, who has been based in Southampton for a while; and a daughter, Cristina, 16, who lives with her parents in London. Miki’s wife, Carina, and their seven-year-old son, Thiago, are both with him in England. And Jesús also moved over with his wife, Olga, and their two daughters: Paula and Marta, aged nine and 14.

  Life has brought us all to England.

  Naturally, Toni is coming with us to Argentina. We’re off to Lago Escondido.

  *

  It’s Monda
y and we’re about to land in London after one of the most extraordinary trips I’ve ever been on. We had gone away bruised following a tough month and a half, albeit happy with the draw against Arsenal. But, while in Argentina, we were able to reconnect with dormant energies and with the people around us. I think whatever we achieve this season and in the years to come will be the upshot of what we said to one another, saw and shared in Lago Escondido.

  As if that wasn’t enough, Miki almost died.

  It was Daniel who suggested that we should go to Lago Escondido one day. It’s owned by Joe Lewis. Daniel and Joe own ENIC, which owns 85 per cent of the club. Joe has an estate there and told Daniel that we should come over and take advantage of it. That was a while back. I said that it sounded great to me. A couple of months ago, before our bad run, Daniel brought it up again. I told him that November would be a good time, because it’s the beginning of spring in Argentina and the weather would be good. And so it was the four amigos plus the chairman and Allan Dixon, who assists the first team players, who set off at 10 p.m. on Sunday, the day of the draw with Arsenal, on a British Airways flight from London to Buenos Aires. Beforehand, I had one fear: if we got a bad result that afternoon, who knows what the flight would be like? But in the end we even deserved to win and suddenly the trip seemed like a good opportunity to stop and take stock of what was going on, as well as to spend seven full days with the chairman.

  We whiled away the time on board watching films and drinking mate. People gave us some weird, quizzical looks: mate on a plane?

  We touched down on Monday morning. They were expecting us, so we were fast-tracked through security and then went to a private terminal where a jet was waiting to take us to Bariloche, from where we travelled on to Lago Escondido in two minivans. Nicolás, the caretaker of the estate, was in one of them. I told him all about the land I own in Arelauquen, by Lago Gutiérrez, one of a number of lakes we passed on the way to Lago Escondido (‘Hidden Lake’) from Bariloche. I also mentioned my ranch in Murphy which stretches across 500 hectares, and is home to some 3,000 cattle. It is a haven of peace, a place for family barbecues. It’s been five years since I last set foot there.