Pitch Black (25 page)

Some clubs offer coaching roles to players as an inducement to sign. Former players, especially captains or star performers, are often given managerial positions. Former managers, especially those who had some success, are reap-pointed by the very people who sacked them first or second time round. When a manager is sacked or resigns, it’s often the case that clubs are bombarded with requests by agents to promote their clients. Newspaper articles are strategically placed linking out-of-work managers with jobs, with managers at other clubs expressing flattery at being linked with
such a fantastic job but explaining that they have no plans to move from their current role, so that within twenty-four hours, the chief executive has already decided on the identity of the new manager.

The current rate of attrition of managers outside the Premier League should be a warning to the game that successful appointments cannot be made when a manager is in place for an average of only thirteen months. This is particularly true when, as is sometimes the case, managers are given responsibility for vast areas of the club that require long-term development and attention. As head of youth development at Notts County, Michael Johnson created a youth system from scratch and developed a successful programme, only for a new first-team manager to be appointed and be allowed to overhaul the system. When supporters express concern about boardroom decisions or lack of investment in the side and demand the sacking of the board, the board responds by sacking the manager. Onuora has pointed out that top European sides have a philosophy of recruiting former players into senior administrative roles. Bayern Munich have a number of former players who are key administrators for the club, while Barcelona, Real Madrid and Ajax all have similar structures allowing former players who are familiar with the traditions of the club to be involved, thus harnessing their expertise to make good football decisions.

And when a manager is appointed they usually bring their tried and trusted lieutenants with them, who share their footballing philosophy and outlook. All this renders absurd the idea that managerial appointments are based on merit – and, clearly, this militates against greater numbers of black coaches being employed within the game. There are few black decision-makers in boardrooms and in administrative
roles to see past stereotypes and consider a black coach as a viable candidate. At the present time, the system dictates that very often the appointment of the most important employee of a multi-million-pound concern is made on the whim of an individual owner, not all of whom understand the game.

As Iffy Onuora said,

The lack of black coaches is mirrored by the lack of black faces in senior positions across British industry and institutions. What they lose is the potential for good ideas, talented people and different perspectives – not to mention vital role models. When, in 2008, Paul Ince was appointed as manager of Blackburn Rovers, becoming the first black British manager to manage a Premier League club, there was hope that his appointment would leave the door open for others to come through. In hindsight, however, for this to have happened, Ince would probably have had to achieve unprecedented success at Blackburn, as unfair as it seems to add the responsibility for the future of black British management to the considerable pressures of Premier League management. In the event, he lasted less than six months in the job and was sacked.

On 22 July 2005, Jean Charles de Menezes was shot seven times in the head on a crowded Tube at Stockwell station
after being mistakenly identified as a terror suspect by armed police. In the immediate aftermath of his death, police reported Menezes had acted suspiciously and was wearing a padded coat with wires sticking out on a summer’s day; that police had challenged him and he had refused to co-operate; and that he had vaulted the ticket barrier to escape police in pursuit of him. Over a period of several months, it emerged that none of the allegations were true and that, in the words of his family’s solicitor, ‘He was just unfortunate enough to be living in a block of flats that was under surveillance and to look slightly brown-skinned.’

With the de Menezes family continuing to seek justice, and with the shooting and other instances of alleged police brutality ingrained in the consciousness of a sizeable section of young people in London and beyond, the shooting of Mark Duggan, a resident of the Broadwater Farm estate, in August 2011 was the spark that ignited the biggest and most widespread disturbances ever seen in the UK. The disturbances began in Tottenham and quickly spread across London and the rest of the country and, after a week, there had been five deaths, several injuries and millions of pounds of damage and looting to property.

As in the de Menezes case, police briefed journalists with misinformation that there had been a shoot-out and Duggan had fired first and that he was a senior member of a street gang with links to Yardies and Manchester gangsters.

The events of the summer of 2011 and the disturbances that had occurred in the 1980s were similar in terms of police action. While the 1980s disturbances could never be characterised as ‘race riots’ in the sense of pitched battles between black and white people, or a white police force, there had been a racial dimension in so far as the protests were a result of
police racism. Although issues of police racism also appeared to be a factor in the later riots, the issue of general policing of inner-city communities and the view of the police as a visible and hated embodiment of the establishment singled the force out for the fury of large numbers of young people, united less by issues of race than by commonality of geography and social class. The speed at which the disturbances spread was fuelled by mainstream media outlets, 24-hour rolling news reports and social media. However, the ferocity of the pitched battles by young people against the police, which 21st-century media development helped to convey, gave an insight into the mindset of those who took part.

A year later, all across England, a very different kind of protest took place. The protests were precipitated by the accusations of racism against Luis Suárez and John Terry, and the reactions of the two players’ respective clubs raised questions about English football’s commitment to fighting racism. Chelsea had supported their captain, Terry, in allegations that he had racially abused Anton Ferdinand, QPR defender and brother of Terry’s centre-back partner in the England team, Rio Ferdinand. Terry had been cleared in the High Court of racist abuse, but was subsequently fined and banned by an FA hearing after an inquiry. The report highlighted the lengths Chelsea would go to defend their player, as illustrated by allegations that their chief executive had encouraged Terry’s teammate Ashley Cole to provide false information to the subsequent investigation.

As the annual fortnight-long Kick It Out campaign began in October 2012, a number of prominent black players refused to wear the organisation’s warm-up T-shirts, in protest at the lack of action against racism on the part of football’s authorities. The previous October, Liverpool had proudly
sported the T-shirts during the weeks of action, only to wear new T-shirts in support of Luis Suárez, who had been accused of making racist remarks, two months later. That example illustrated how the weeks of action had become little more than a photo opportunity in many cases, allowing the wider game to congratulate itself on its commitment to promoting T-shirts, without actually taking action over racism.

Led by Jason Roberts of Reading, the nephew of Cyrille Regis, the dissidents were supported by others including the Ferdinand brothers, Joleon Lescott and Victor Anichebe. The older generation of retired players, many of whom were by now involved in a number of anti-racist initiatives with the PFA, Kick It Out and others, were caught off-guard by the actions of their younger and distinctly more impatient counterparts. It was the first time that black footballers had taken a co-ordinated stand against racism in the game’s history and their actions brought them briefly into conflict with the older generation who had sought to bring about change through the traditional channels of negotiation and discussion via the FA, Football League and Premier League’s committee structures and formal and informal networks. Frustrated at the slow progress being made against racism at home and abroad, the leaders of the boycott generated wide discussion as to how much progress English football had made. In the immediate aftermath, there was talk of a breakaway black players’ union, although the idea was never seriously promoted. Sir Alex Ferguson spectacularly backed down in the days following the boycott after it had initially seemed that his captain, Rio Ferdinand, would be censured for his part in it. After a meeting between the two, Ferguson was backtracking at a rate of knots.

Michael Johnson is convinced he would not still be in the game if it weren’t for the fact he had a nine-year relationship with Birmingham City, thus proving the old adage of ‘it’s who you know’. This culture militates against black players, because their contacts are limited, but it also militates against actively seeking to hire the best.

After his career at Birmingham City, where he had proved to be a popular figure amongst the fans, Johnson was transferred to Derby County, then of the First Division, in 2004. A good organiser and vocal presence in the City dressing room, he had captained the side during their 2001 League Cup run against Liverpool, when they’d lost the final only after extra time and penalties.

He was captain of the Derby side when they were promoted in 2007 under manager Billy Davies. Even as Derby were beating West Brom in the play-off final there was considerable tension between Davies and the Derby County board, which derailed the start of their Premiership campaign. County’s season had been extended due to the play-off campaign and they weren’t in a position to take the gamble of buying new players in order to meet the considerable challenges of a Premier League campaign. By the time of their Wembley final defeat of Albion to win promotion to the Premier League, their rivals already had four or five weeks’ head-start on Derby in making plans to bring in new players to strengthen the squad. This lag was further compounded as the internal tension between Davies and the board descended into out-and-out warfare, with the result that an additional two weeks went by without any plans being made to add to the squad.

The play-off final and Premier League promotion had been one of the greatest moments in the club’s recent history.
Derby had a proud history and had reached the semi-final of the European Cup in 1973. The club were entitled to feel that given their history, traditions and fan base, the Premier League was where they belonged. In keeping with most promoted teams, Premier League survival was Derby’s number one priority and they would be favourites for relegation. Everyone associated with the club would need to pull together to successfully negotiate what was undoubtedly going to be a difficult campaign, but valuable time was already being wasted as individual egos enveloped the needs of the club as a whole. Things looked ominous.

They eventually brought in Zambian-born, Wales-raised Rob Earnshaw, a Welsh international, amongst other signings, but the new signings were either of questionable quality or were unproven at Premier League level. Nonetheless, the league campaign started reasonably well, with a hard-fought 2–2 home draw against Portsmouth. In their next game they narrowly lost 1–0 away at Manchester City and then suffered a 4–0 defeat at Spurs, at which point the club dropped into the bottom three relegation places. They lost their next game at home to Johnson’s former club, Birmingham City, and then were thrashed 6–0 away to Liverpool. At this point one bookmaker agreed to pay out on bets for Derby to be relegated. They were only five games into the season and it was only September in a campaign that would last till May.

Off the pitch, there were additional tensions and arguments within the boardroom itself as various parties wrestled for control of the club. In circumstances where boardroom strife exists, the instability eventually filters through to the players, even when they rationalise that the boardroom situation is out of their control and they should concentrate on playing and performance, which is within their area of
influence. Players begin to wonder about which direction the club is heading. Some are being offered opportunities at other clubs; others wonder what impact the instability will have on their contracts, particularly if new management is brought in. Eventually, the instability began to affect Derby’s performances and the team went from bad to worse. Amazingly, immediately after the disastrous Liverpool result they won their first game of the season at home to Newcastle, but from then on, confidence drained from the players. Of their next eight games, they drew two and lost six, including two 5–0 defeats, one of which was at home to West Ham.

At this point, fans were openly demonstrating against the board for lack of investment in the club and, by way of a response to this, in time-honoured fashion, the manager was sacked. New manager Paul Jewell came in and couldn’t stop the rot. They lost five of the next six games and, by the end of the calendar year, they knew it was all over. The players still had much to play for: fans were desperate to see another win; players were playing for professional pride; some were playing for new contracts. In the January window, a raft of new players were brought in, as the manager tried new personnel and different formations to stem the tide. On 29 March, Derby drew 2–2 with fellow strugglers Fulham to confirm their relegation, making them the first team in Premier League history to be relegated in March. As club captain, Johnson had overseen a league campaign that was a source of personal and professional embarrassment. They ended the season with just eleven points – a record – and just one win in thirty-eight games – also a record.