Foot Soldiers
The players that others refer to as the foot soldiers, the workhorses or the ‘water carriers’ – they are the ones to whom I’m closest. This kind of player has the character I value the most, because when I played, I had more or less the same skill, the same ability as they have.
The foot soldiers are the players who give their heart for the team – every time, in every game and training session – so I don’t need to spend a lot of time with these kind of players. They are the low-maintenance team members who allow you the time to spend on the high-maintenance ones. They self-motivate 100 per cent of the time.
I remember all these players as much as the superstars, because without them there are no superstars. It’s a cliché, but it really is a team game. At Reggiana, for example, the hardest worker in midfield was Leonardo Calucci, while at Parma I had Roberto Sensini. With Juventus it was Antonio Conte or Edgar Davids, who had a lot of personality. These were players who were also stars, but they had a soldier’s mentality, and sometimes it was easy to forget their talent and needs.
The first time I met Davids I told him, ‘I’m happy to be your manager because you are fantastic. You are strong and aggressive – you are always giving 100 per cent.’ He looked at me and said, ‘I am also a talented football player.’ I had made the classic mistake of assuming that great players do not work hard. These players are sometimes not recognized by the fans and the owners, but they are by those who lead them.
At Chelsea the soldiers were Branislav Ivanović and John Terry, at Paris Saint-Germain it was Alex and at Madrid the soldier was, in my last year, Toni Kroos. I had Gennaro Gattuso at Milan and I also had Clarence Seedorf. People do not see him as a soldier but he is very strong.
Seedorf is a player that you have to delegate things to. You have to tell him, ‘Take care of this,’ and he will do it, but if you are not specific he has such a strong personality that he will want to do everything. The key was to move him to where I thought he would have most value, and I had to convince him of that.
When he arrived at Milan in 2002 Seedorf fought a lot with his teammates. He’s such a strong character that he was behaving like he was in charge of the other players. Eventually, they said to him, ‘You are not the manager – you don’t have to talk like this.’ The reality was that Seedorf could be the soldier and the leader, but Paolo Maldini was the leader in the dressing room, so we had to create a balance to get the best from Seedorf. What he was doing was not intended to be bad – he was just overexcited and passionate about how to play. He had interesting ideas but he was too forceful when explaining them to the others. We had to find the way in between. I told Seedorf that he had to be more polite and patient when explaining certain things and to the others I said that they had to understand he had my confidence in what he was doing. I would say to Seedorf, ‘This is a good idea, but a bad way to convince people. We have to educate the other players more slowly.’
Seedorf is one of those players I always want in my team. Ultimately, this kind of player is a reference point to his teammates. Leaders are chosen by the group, not the manager or the president, and, in the end, Seedorf was a leader. He learned to tone things down and the players wanted his personality and his confidence in the group. Character is often more important than technique.
The Opposition
In the top level of global football there are a very small cadre of top managers and I have been privileged to compete against them all at various stages of my career. Knowing how they work and how their teams play is essential for me when my teams play against theirs – but it is also important so that I can learn from them.
I am asked about other managers a lot but I don’t necessarily know them personally, so I can only really talk about their teams and how they play. Of course, you could argue, as many do, that their teams reflect the mentality and personality of the manager. For example, Arsène Wenger’s teams will always be attacking, but on a sliding scale. As attacking as the ‘Invincibles’ were in 2003–04, they were also very strong when not in possession, with Patrick Vieira in the centre of midfield in front of Sol Campbell and Kolo Touré at the back. They were big – close to three centimetres taller on average than the current team. Like they say in boxing, a good big ’un will always beat a good little ’un. Can this be Wenger constantly trying to achieve the perfect attacking balance? Is that who he is? Certainly, his teams seem to reflect that.
When I play against teams like Arsenal that like to have the ball, you have to be tough. You have to be stronger in the challenges and you must be patient and not too afraid when they have the ball, because that could actually be to your advantage on the counter-attack.
José Mourinho’s style is different. He doesn’t like to concede anything. Mourinho will stay 0–0 for a long time and be waiting, waiting. He’s not worried about it staying 0–0. Again, the analogy is boxing – his team plays like a counterpunching fighter. He’s prepared to go eleven rounds to tire you out, so he can knock you out in the twelfth round. His teams will work you to death and then, when you’re tired, he’ll go in for the kill.
With Pep Guardiola, you know that possession is key for him. His team will have the ball and you know this and must accept it. You can’t compete against Guardiola’s teams in terms of possession, but this is not all bad. When you don’t have possession, you have fewer problems to solve. When you have the ball, you have more problems because there is more complexity in creating than in destroying. Destroying is easier, it is about organization and discipline and anybody can be taught this. Creativity is more difficult to teach.
When we prepared for the Champions League semi-final first leg against Bayern Munich, everyone at Real Madrid was worried about the possession of Bayern. They had beaten Barcelona convincingly the season before, so we knew they would be strong. In the meetings before the game, I concentrated on convincing my players that our opponents’ possession was actually key to us winning the game. I told the players not to worry if Bayern had a lot of possession at the start, because we could gradually work our own game in and control without the ball, as long as we stayed calm and were always in position. It was vital not to lose position. In the first twenty minutes of the match we barely touched the ball, though we somehow managed to score. I tried to get a message on to say that we could worry a little bit if we didn’t touch it again for the next twenty minutes. At half-time I said, ‘OK, I didn’t mean don’t worry at all.’
With Sir Alex Ferguson’s teams the game is always open. The key against Manchester United was to understand that what was important for them was not so much the tactics, but the rhythm of the game – the power, speed and intensity. Of course, Ferguson developed tactically over his time at United, and he learned to be very effective in the Champions League. If you played against a Ferguson team, you knew you must try to disrupt.
Diego Simeone is very similar to Mourinho. In Spain, his style of play is to be passionate, aggressive, strong rhythm and with team spirit.
All managers have their own way, their own style, but for me it pays to be flexible. I need to have some room to adjust – some elasticity. For others, this is not their way. One of the coaches I most admired was the Ukrainian Valeriy Lobanovskyi. He had no elasticity at all outside of his system. Within the system, he would say, anything is permitted; outside of the system, nothing is permitted. For him it fitted that there could be flexibility in discussing the system and discussing how they were going to play – but once the decision had been made, that would be final. If the plan was to commit five midfield players forward on the understanding that the ball would be played into a certain position, then it was unacceptable to him for the ball to be played anywhere else.
I once watched a training session run by Lobanovskyi when I was a player with Roma and the sheer intensity was unbelievable. He would use the whole length of the pitch, playing with three groups of seven. The first two groups would play attack against defence and when the defending team won
the ball, they had to pass and move through midfield and play against the other seven. He played like this for forty-five minutes, repeating the exercise over and over again. I tried it at Madrid and the players managed only fifteen minutes. It was crazy.
Lobanovskyi’s Dynamo Kiev teams didn’t have many great individuals – they had Oleh Blokhin, Igor Belanov, Andriy Shevchenko and Serhiy Rebrov at various stages – but it was all about the team. The team always came first. Lobanovskyi’s rule was iron – within the system, anything; outside the system, nothing.
THE PRODUCT: THE QUIET WAY
Know your business. Those you lead expect nothing less. If they observe less, they won’t be led by you for long.
Don’t ignore the foot soldiers in an organization just because they’re low maintenance.
Everyone goes through ups and downs; treat even the quiet talent with the same level of concern and consideration as the star talent.
If you hit upon a great idea by accident, go with it.
Interview the organization to ensure that you’re aligned with the identity they want to create or maintain. Do your due diligence before you agree to join – what is the governance structure, to whom do you report, who reports to you? The answers to these and other questions will be central to your ultimate success or failure.
Always be thinking about winning; developing a winning mentality across the entire organization is the only way to guarantee success over time.
Treat every day as if tomorrow is the day your talent will implode. This ‘positive paranoia’ will force you to understand their dynamic development and anticipate the REAL issues that derail them.
Let the product / talent breathe on your problems. Include them, encourage them to be active participants in finding a solution. If there is a stalemate on the final direction then the leader has the final decision.
Remember, there are no great coaches or leaders. They are only as great as the talent they seduce and lead and how much permission this talent gives them on a daily basis to deliver their ideas.
In Their Own Words … The Opponents
Sir Alex Ferguson on Carlo
My first experience up against Carlo was the 1999 semi-final of the Champions League, when he was coach with Juventus. I didn’t really know him at all, but because I was quite friendly with Marcello Lippi I asked him, ‘How is the new guy, Ancelotti? Should I have a drink with him?’ He said, ‘Oh, he’s a great guy, but if he comes for a drink after just make sure it’s a good one.’
We didn’t have that drink. These things happen in a European tie. After the semi-final in Turin, there was so much euphoria in our dressing room at getting to the final for the first time since 1968 that you forget a lot of things. I didn’t see him in the end, but then over the years he would pop up in different places. I’ve always known that his teams were very difficult to beat and that they played with expression.
The one occasion I must talk about – because I thought he behaved with unbelievable dignity – was when he was with Chelsea and he came into my dressing room at Old Trafford after the match. When he sat down, I knew there was something wrong. I thought he might have had some bad family news, but it was Abramovich. When Carlo had returned to the dressing room, Abramovich was waiting because they’d lost. He told Carlo in no uncertain terms what the consequences would be. Carlo was really upset, so I said, ‘Just forget it. He can’t get rid of you in the middle of the season.’
In retrospect I think Carlo was right to worry. Abramovich had made his mind up. Carlo had taken off Fernando Torres and put Didier Drogba on, who scored right away. Eventually, we won the game 2–1, and the tie 3–1 on aggregate. Abramovich had bought Torres for fifty million pounds. Do you remember that? What a waste of money – an absolute waste of money. But because he had paid all that money out and they had lost and Carlo had subbed Torres, I think Abramovich had already decided Carlo’s fate.
Carlo must have known that he’d get this sort of a death at Chelsea, but he composed himself after. We had a glass of wine and he settled down fine, but he knew the inevitable was going to happen. In his last game he was at Everton and they had a car waiting for him and he never went back to the team. But when he arrived back in London the Chelsea boys – Frank Lampard and the rest – took him out for a farewell dinner, which is brilliant. That’s exactly what you’d expect for someone that’s played a part in their lives.
We’ve been friends since that time. He’s a gentleman, but a gentleman with a purpose. He has this quiet manner about him, which allows him to really listen. People who know how to listen properly take a lot in. He’s not a guy who will dominate the room, but when he does say something, it’s always worth hearing.
Carlo is a good man and a great coach. I had hoped that he would come to Manchester United, but it didn’t quite work out. Another time, maybe.
8. Data
In sport, as in business, organizations are constantly searching for new ways to gain an advantage over the competition. This competitive edge is invariably sought out in the analytical and the psychological sides of the business. The consensus of opinion in sport seems to be that we ‘get’ the physical side of the business – we are all more or less on the same lines in the areas of conditioning, training, etc. – but with the data and the mind of the player, there are multiple new approaches, techniques and technology still to be developed.
Of course, we rarely get the future right, but we have to start somewhere. Plans never work out perfectly, but having no plan at all is even worse. It means you have no direction and are forced to be reactive instead of proactive.
Analytics
Statistical analysis can often frighten leaders more used to trusting their own, often instinctive judgements. But ever since Moneyball – Michael Lewis’s book which traced how the evidence-based, statistical approach of Billy Beane’s Oakland Athletics challenged baseball wisdom – the analytics of sport have become more acceptable. They are still threatening to some, however. I know of managers who wilfully ignore the data produced by the analytics departments, but this cannot last for ever. If a club is forced to choose between an entire department they have poured money into as part of a long-term strategy and a manager, it will not be a difficult decision to make.
At Madrid we used statistics mainly for the physical aspects of the players. For me, their most important use is to control the physical elements of training – tiredness, fatigue – so that a potential injury to a player can be avoided. This is what the GPS data does. I know that clubs also use the numbers for recruitment purposes, but I’m not as involved in this and it is not used so much for coaching.
To be honest, even if we receive analytics and data that’s saying that the team is deficient in some way, we still don’t use it as well as we might. It is my fault as much as anyone’s because I’m not convinced that the numbers regarding technical data, by which I mean what the player does with the ball – shooting, crossing, heading, passing – has as much value as is claimed. This is another area where I can learn and develop myself. How often do I, as the head coach, ask the analytics guys to find me data, to interrogate the data? The answer is, probably, not very often. We will all need to get better at utilizing all of the data, because if we don’t, others certainly will.
It is equally important not to get too carried away with the numbers. They are a tool – they shouldn’t become an obsession. At one time it was all about possession, with all the analysts concentrating on that. Why? Because it was something they could measure. But as Albert Einstein reportedly said, ‘Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.’ Possession alone, of course, doesn’t win the game. There is only one piece of data that always correlates with a victory and that is goals. If you score more goals than your opponent, you win.
The technical data is only about the minute or two that the player has the ball. I want the physical data about what he is doing for the other eighty-eight or eighty-nine minutes. I
need that for tactical reasons. How quickly can players recover into defensive positions at certain times in the game? If I know this, then I can know how far forward I can commit players and still give them the chance to recover.
If we go back to Arrigo Sacchi, my managerial mentor, and look at the system he played, it is clear that he would have been helped by the physical data showing the amount of work the players do to recover their correct positions in his system. If you play at high intensity, like Jürgen Klopp’s teams at Dortmund and now Liverpool, this will also be very important. Here, the question is not, ‘Is the system right,’ but rather, ‘Is it sustainable over a whole season, or two, or three?’ Will the players be able to sustain such energy output and the strain on their bodies?
I have people delivering data to me all the time when I’m managing. At Chelsea, it was Mike Forde and Nick Broad. These were young guys who valued the data. But I also had Giovanni Mauri, who was more old school. He was the necessary counterbalance to the numbers analysis. I have confidence in Mauri because he trusts his instincts, which have been acquired through years of experience. We need both analytics and instinct because eventually those who do not understand the data will be eaten by it.
Nick would analyse distances covered and work out if players were more vulnerable to injury. He would tell me that if a player did certain things at a particular time in the game, they would be more likely to score. He would have this information for both our own players and the opposition’s. Again, this kind of information, the physical data, would help me make tactical decisions.
At Madrid, before we played Atlético, my analysts told me that on average Diego Costa would run eight kilometres in a game, mostly with long runs at speed, into the space behind the full backs. However, occasionally he would only run half that amount, and in those games Atlético lost. So, tactically, could we stop him making those runs? I told the full backs to drop back and deny him the space behind them and force him to go short to receive the ball at his feet, with his back to goal. We didn’t always beat Atlético, but we denied Costa most times.
Quiet Leadership: Winning Hearts, Minds and Matches Page 17