Status-hungry chairmen: the modern face of despotism?

Nigel Adkins: the latest unwitting victim to face the firing squad

"I'm what?"

Poor Nigel…poor, poor Nigel will be the sentiment of the weekend following his surprising - or really…when you think about it, not so surprising - dismissal on Friday afternoon. The ex-Southampton hero is the latest to be summarily executed as part of the relentless purge of managers by their capricious and demanding overlords.

There have been no fewer than 29 changes of manager across the leagues so far this season, which, staggeringly, means well over a quarter of all the clubs in the football league have seen different men being pushed, or voluntarily leaving through, the revolving door of football management. Blackburn and Blackpool have been the most notable victims of the managerial merry-go-round, each having no fewer than three managers so far this season. The odds on Michael Appleton finding himself at Bolton, Burnley, or even Bury by the end of the season must be ever-shortening.

It appears that this trend towards the frenetic has only increased in pace with the influx foreign chairmen whose arena is really the cut-throat world of international business: a world where, if the “vision” of the man in charge is not realised within the strict timescale laid out at yesterday’s head-to-head mega video conference meeting, then somebody is going to take the bullet…and it isn’t going to be the man in charge.

It strikes me, with a little imagination, that parallels can be drawn between the running of a modern football club and the running of Stalinist Russia in the 1930’s, or for that matter, many despotic regimes throughout history. The manager is in the unfortunate position of being the flunky in charge of entertainment as the volatile dictator looks on without expression, never giving away the slightest hint of emotion as their expendable minions desperately scurry around, beads of sweat creeping from their temples, hoping that they have done enough to please him.

Parallels can be drawn with these infamous figures because over the course of history the most obvious route for their megalomaniacal quest for wealth, power and status was absolute rule; political control. However, my rather flippant assertion is that in the perennially mystifying age that we live in, the modern outlet for such characters is business…and now football.

"Yikes."

Despots are used to getting what they want…and fast. If somebody is not getting the desired results, or is in some way perceived to be a threat to their omnipotence, they would simply have someone else unceremoniously shoot that person in the head and bury them in a shallow ditch in a nearby forest. Thankfully, Nigel Adkins has merely lost his job, and has been allowed to keep his head by Italian banker (yes, banker with a ‘b’), Nicola Cortese. However, with a win percentage of just 45% and four defeats in his first 16 games, Rafael Benitez may not be looking in the mirror each morning with the same surety.

The rule at Chelsea is, of course, the case in point. I can just envisage an emissary being sent to the Benitez household if they ejected from the League Cup by Swansea on Wednesday night. A car with blacked out windows rolls onto the driveway of Casa Benitez, a man in dark glasses walks up to the front door and rings the bell, the door opens:

“I am sorry Señora Benitez, Rafa won’t be home for dinner tonight…”

"Bring me his head!"

Pep Guardiola’s decision to announce his move to Bayern Munich several months in advance is probably the wisest thing anyone has done in football recently. If the agreement had not been in place so early, his next few months would be spent trying to resist the generous, but calculated overtures from the Tsar of Stamford Bridge. It has probably cost him a couple of islands, some fast cars, and all the fast women his heart desires, but he probably prefers to sleep at night.

Guardiola strikes me as a man who treats his role with the gravitas with which it deserves; an attitude to his craft developed through long years at a club whose ethos will hopefully always remain unsullied by the hands of any billionaire out to make it his play thing. He seems to be the sort of man who would not compromise his philosophy and become the puppet of anyone who tries to tell him otherwise.

The decision to snub the sordid arena of world businessman one-upmanship that is the Premier League for the reassuringly efficient and well-run model that is the Bundesliga is a refreshing statement of sobriety amid the delirious casino bubble that at times loses all grip on reality. Any headline this week could have easily read: “Theo Walcott, beardless 14 year-old, accrues 3 million pounds for signing name on piece of paper with further 5 million a year to run, at pace, after a leather-bound sphere.”

"Perhaps Gianfranco will get the job done."

Unfortunatley, in England we will not see Guardiola in action. at least for some time. Instead it will be Mauricio Pochettino, speaking through a translator, as the latest baffling executive decision sucks the spirit out of a resurgent Southampton. Meanwhile, the Russian oligarch's eyes turn to Watford, and the little Italian chap doing a marvelous job there: winning over fans with a pleasing brand of football; blending exciting overseas talent with homegrown players; presenting a positive image to the media; working effectively with a board that genuinely has the best interests of the club at heart. But with Guardiola bound for Germany, the media need another target to hound relentlessly, and Zola fits the bill completely.

Is Roman thinking the same thing? Who knows. It would certainly appease fans who will have felt completely ignored in recent months, however, despots are not famed for their listening skills.  In any case...over at Vicarage Road...the muscles tighten, the hairs on the back of the neck begin to rise, "Please, Roman, no!"...let the overtures begin.