The defining image from the brief Sam Allardyce era may well be the England manager putting a napkin over his face.
Allardyce had shown up to meet the people – at Wing’s restaurant in Manchester, where else? – who would turn out to be undercover reporters, perhaps attracted to the idea that there was some easy money on offer, but he recoiled when the subject turned to “paying people to help secure business”.
Allardyce, the Telegraph reported, “put a napkin over his head and said, ‘Oh, oh, you’re not, do not, I haven’t heard that. I haven’t heard that, you stupid man. What are you talking about? You idiot. You can have that conversation when I’m not here’.”
The careers of all England managers end in failure, but Allardyce’s has begun and ended in failure, a man with a record of played one, won one, before he threw it all away.
Every England manager eventually slopes off with a napkin over his face, shamed by a sting, stupidity or simply the failings as a manager which are so ruthlessly exposed.
Since Glenn Hoddle had his contract terminated for his views on the transmigration of souls, the England manager seems to be doomed to fall thanks to his own vulnerabilities.
Kevin Keegan resigned in a Wembley toilet, brought down by his own impulsiveness, while it was the lure of women and rich men that ultimately tarnished Sven Goran Eriksson. Steve McClaren’s time ended with him taking cover under an umbrella, a man lampooned because he didn’t want to get his hair wet.
Fabio Capello, the fundamentalist, resigned when the FA interfered, as he saw it, with his work when John Terry was removed as England captain before he stood trial accused of racially abusing Anton Ferdinand.
Capello had already stripped Terry of the captaincy once, after Terry allegedly had an affair with the girlfriend of a former team-mate, but he couldn’t countenance the interference from his employers.
Roy Hodgson was brought down by his lack of ambition, a lowering of expectation which, combined with his indecision, ensured that England would try to make failure routine during his reign.
Hodgson arrived at his resignation press conference and summed up his time as manager with the statement, “I don’t know why I am here.” Even at that stage, it seemed like a rallying cry.
The search then began with the FA’s chief executive Martin Glenn promising that, “it has to be the best man or woman for the job; more likely a man,” and it has ended two months later with the best man or woman as the FA saw it leaving in disgrace.
Sam arrived, determined to make people feel good about themselves. The media received a letter which let them know how much he was looking forward to working with them. He was determined to show that there was more to him than caricature before he was brought down by the stereotype, brought down by the constant craving for easy money.
Having discussed how you could “get around” FA rules on third-party ownership, Allardyce explained how he saw his role with the fictitious firm on his days in the Far East.
Sam promised to be committed to his position when he would arrive to do his stuff.
“I don’t come in like a lot of them, come in, right bang, you’re off. Do you know what I mean? That’s the end of that, done that, I’m off. I’m going to stand at the bar, have a few social drinks.”
He would have his few social drinks and the people he was in an arrangement with would feel they were getting their money’s worth. For a few social drinks and his role as a “keynote speaker” – “Keynote speaking, that’s what I’d be doing, keynote speaking. I’m a keynote speaker” – Sam would be paid £400,000 a year.
“I’d want a million pound but I mean you’re not going to pay that,” his agent Mark Curtis told the undercover reporters, before unilaterally agreeing a fee of £150,000 per trip as well, naturally, as first class tickets to Singapore or Hong Kong.
Some would look at the money being proposed and think, for that kind of money, there must be something more going on, but those who understand English football would appreciate, in fact, it may demonstrate that there was nothing going on at all, except the promise of a few social drinks and commitment not to go “right bang, you’re off”.
This is a world of money for nothing, a world grown fat and bloated by the wealth in the English game which combined with a tendency from certain football men to make as much as they can, as many ways as they can.
Sam and his advisers made it clear there were lines they would not cross while Allardyce was England manager. The belief they had that they were engaging in legitimate business was made clear when they told the undercover reporters that the FA would have to sign off on any deal.
“There’s no way he will do anything that would compromise himself,” Curtis told the reporters. “Or the position that he’s got – bring any embarrassment on any employer.”
Back to the drawing board on that one.
Allardyce discussed the methods of bypassing the FA’s rules on third party ownership in his meetings with the reporters, but these were almost throwaway comments.
It was Sam himself who was the prize and Sam who couldn’t resist trying to cash in on himself, especially with the added value that being England manager brought to his own brand.
People will wonder why, but being England manager was a short career and Sam couldn’t resist the opportunity to make a bit of extra money while he could. It was an even shorter career on Tuesday when the FA terminated his contract.
They explained why but they could have simply pointed to the picture of the man with a napkin on his face, sighed and said it was inevitable, that all England managers end up revealing themselves.
