Harry's Games (28 page)

Losing to Real Madrid in the quarter-final was no disgrace and Redknapp could rightly claim Spurs' first Champions League adventure had been a great success. The team hadn't been overawed, had competed with the best of the best and, if or when Spurs again qualified for the Champions League, no side would look forward to being drawn against them. The fly in the ointment was the ‘if' part of re-qualification. As well as the team had performed in Europe, Spurs' form in the Premier League tailed off badly towards the end of the season. ‘At times we had played some of the best football I have seen in my forty-six years of going to White Hart Lane,' says long-term supporter Pete Crawford, ‘yet at others we had played like a Sunday morning pub team. We lost out on a Champions League place after only gaining fifteen points from our last twelve games, with only
three wins in that period. We ended up in fifth place, six points adrift of fourth.'

Redknapp had never had the easiest of relationships with many Spurs supporters who objected to the way he always referred to them as ‘you' or ‘they' and never ‘we'. In many ways, this was just a statement of fact. Redknapp wasn't a supporter, he was a manager. Football was his business and he could have – and had – been in charge of any number of different clubs. His job was to get that team playing the best football it could and, if he didn't, he would be out on his ear. There were no loyalty points on offer and none was expected.

Almost every other manager knew better than to point out the exact relationship between club, manager and supporters that starkly; etiquette demanded that a manager should always make the fans feel included and important – not least because having the fans on side could buy a little breathing space in a bad patch. Redknapp never bothered with this; not as an act of deliberate provocation, but because his egocentrism never allowed him to put himself in the fans' shoes. The relationship was what it was, and there was no need to call it any differently.

When the team was playing well this wasn't an issue, but when it wasn't there was conflict. Matters came to a head when Redknapp responded in public to supporters who had criticized him on a sports radio phone-in. ‘The reaction doesn't hurt me,' he said. ‘The reason I don't listen to phone-ins is because you're talking about idiots. Who rings up a radio station? They're idiots who don't even watch football. They say, “We were rubbish today.” The guys on the radio ask them if they were at the game, and they say, “No, I heard it on the radio.” When I start worrying about what they think, I'll be in trouble. Ninety-ninepoint-nine per cent of people who go to Tottenham have loved everything they've seen. That's all that matters. Maybe expectations have been raised, but they don't have any brains, they don't
understand. If they think we should have Champions League football every year, then what's been happening during all those years we didn't qualify? It's so hard to get into the top four now.'

This was yet another variation of the familiar ‘You've never had it so good' Redknapp refrain – one that, as Adam Powley points out, was becoming increasingly ironic ‘given that Redknapp had never had it so good to be managing Spurs at this stage in his career'. It was also one that he couldn't get away with any more without looking unnecessarily antagonistic to the fans and defensive about his managerial capabilities. His Spurs team had exceeded expectations but there had also been some very obvious and worrying self-destructive lapses, many of them Redknapp-related.

One of the reasons that Redknapp cited for the team's failure to sustain its challenge for Champions League qualification was injuries – in particular, one to Bale that had ruled him out for the previous five games. Yet, as was to be the case the following season, being down to the ‘bare bones' was to a large extent self-inflicted as it was Redknapp's job to make sure there were players available to fill in when needed. The apparent lack of players whom Redknapp thought good enough raised questions both about his transfer targets and his decision to withdraw the reserve side from competitions two seasons previously.

Traditionally, the reserve team had acted as a stepping stone for emerging players to get a taste of competitive professional football and for first-team players to ease themselves back to match fitness after injury. Redknapp did away with a reserve team, arguing that the young players would be better served playing tailor-made fixtures. ‘I just think it gives you the option of fixing up a game where and whenever you want rather than being tied to a fixture schedule which can sometimes prove difficult around first-team games,' Redknapp said. ‘This way we can create our own schedule and play games when we want to. There are always
clubs looking for games so I think this will suit us better. The youngsters need to go out on loan and get playing like they did last year. It was a great experience for those lads who went out, so we will be looking to do the same again this season.'

In theory, this might have seemed reasonable but, in practice, the policy hadn't worked. Youngsters who might have been ready to break through to the first team were nowhere near White Hart Lane, and keeping tracking of just how well each and every player who was out on loan was performing was a logistical nightmare. More importantly, though, it sent out the same message that Redknapp had given at his previous clubs; namely, that whatever he might say to the contrary, he wasn't terribly interested in bringing on youngsters himself. His focus was the first team and you were either in or out. When injuries did require Redknapp to pick his less fancied players, it was self-fulfilling that they looked out of their depth.

Most concerning of all, though, was that Redknapp didn't seem to be aware of a failing that had been blindingly obvious to everyone since long before Christmas. Spurs' problems weren't, for once, a leaky defence; it was a strike force that couldn't score enough goals. Redknapp didn't rate the Russian striker, Roman Pavlyuchenko, and insisted on playing Peter Crouch up front ahead of Jermain Defoe, despite Crouch being unable to buy a goal in the Premier League, where defenders didn't give him the same space as they did in European competitions. The consequences were felt throughout the season as – for the want of a striker – Spurs lost league games they should have drawn and drew games they should have won. It was baffling that Redknapp hadn't bought another striker in the January transfer window or had varied his tactics by rotating his squad and starting with Defoe more often. His public courting of an ageing David Beckham had brought most fans out in a cold sweat.

Crouch was shuffled off to Stoke at the end of the season, so
Redknapp can't have been unaware of his limitations, but his replacement – Emmanuel Adebayor, who was signed on loan from Manchester City shortly before the end of August – was again primarily a Daniel Levy deal. Scott Parker and forty-year-old goalkeeper Brad Friedel were Redknapp's. Parker was a nobrainer, a bargain at £5.5 million, while Friedel was another example of Redknapp's knack of spotting players whom others thought were past it.

As for handling the speculation over high-profile players potentially leaving the club, Redknapp's approach was erratic. The Modric ‘Is he going to Chelsea or not?' saga is a case in point – it had been ongoing since the end of the previous season when the Croatian announced he wanted to leave Spurs. Redknapp would have been better advised to say nothing rather than offering frequent and not necessarily informed updates. But then Redknapp had never been one to keep quiet and, once Levy had outmuscled Modric and forced him to stay, his team began to play some of the best football in the Premier League and get the results to match.

The only blot on the horizon was Redknapp's trial, which had finally been scheduled for the following January, and the strain of that appeared to have told when he was admitted to hospital for a heart operation in early November. Typically, though, Redknapp tried to play it all down. ‘I have a running machine at home and run or jog for around half an hour several times a week to help stay fit,' he told the
Sun
newspaper. ‘But this time I went on and had been running for no more than about two minutes when I felt pains in my chest. I had hardly got going when it went tight and I was struggling to breathe. As soon as that happens you know the best thing to do is stop immediately, which I did. I wasn't that frightened if I'm honest, but it was clearly a warning sign from within. I just stopped running there and then and I went to see the club doctor at Spurs. He got me in to see a
specialist on Saturday and by Monday I was in hospital. I've had narrow or blocked arteries for some time. I've been taking tablets for it just like a lot of people my age do. It's no big thing. They didn't even put me out. This isn't going to stop me doing the job I love. I love my football and won't be walking away any time soon. I can assure everyone I'm doing OK.'

And so he was. Within ten days he was back at White Hart Lane where his side were maintaining their early-season run of form and being talked about not just as certainties for Champions League qualification, but as possible Premier League title contenders. It was an incredible achievement for a club that was being run on a shoestring compared to the other contenders – Manchester City, Manchester United, Arsenal and Chelsea. Even his policy of not taking the Europa League seriously so he could concentrate on the Premiership – a decision that had annoyed many Spurs fans who reckoned the club was not yet so overloaded with success it could afford to be picky about which competitions it tried to win – seemed to be paying off. By and large, Redknapp had been forgiven. To top it all, Fabio Capello had announced he was planning to step down as England manager directly after Euro 2012 the following summer and no one was looking any further than Redknapp to replace him. At the age of sixty-four, Redknapp was within a now well-regulated heartbeat of achieving everything he had ever dreamed of in football . . . and a great deal more.

What could possibly go wrong?

May–December 2012

The fall from grace was spectacular. From being the clear favourite to replace Capello, the Football Association hadn't even bothered to interview Redknapp for the job. Whatever Redknapp might – or might not – have had to say about the England job and what he thought he could bring to it, the FA weren't interested in listening. Given the delay and speculation over the appointment – not to mention the very obvious effects they had had on both Redknapp and Tottenham – it was, at best, tactless not to go through the motions of talking to Redknapp even if the board had made a decision. It would have saved face for Redknapp. And them.

Redknapp responded magnanimously as required. ‘I'm history with that job,' he said. ‘Roy deserves it, he's got it and I just hope he makes a great job of it. I'm not disappointed at all. It's saved me a decision, if I'm honest, because I'm very happy at Tottenham. I'm lucky I'm managing a great club. I've come up the ladder from Bournemouth, I get very well paid and I have a fantastic job. I don't feel as though anyone owes me [an explanation]. Roy wouldn't have gone for the interview with the FA if they were going to be interviewing someone else, and neither
would I. That wasn't going to work, going back to your club with your tail between your legs. They wanted Roy, and that's good enough.'

The generosity didn't make the statement any more believable. Redknapp was disappointed; the notion that being interviewed for a job you didn't get was somehow more humiliating than not being interviewed at all was laughable and he was most certainly owed an explanation. Hodgson wasn't a totally left-field appointment – he had had international experience, having managed the Finnish, Swiss and United Arab Emirates national teams at various stages in his career – but he hadn't been a front-runner, and his time in charge of Liverpool, his only really big job in England, had been a disaster. And yet the FA never said a word other than to express its support for its new manager.

Within days, rumours began to circulate that it had been Sir Trevor Brooking, the FA's director of development and one of the three-man selection panel, who had stuck the knife into Redknapp as a result of ongoing animosity between the two men, dating back to when Redknapp replaced Billy Bonds as West Ham manager. Brooking had been a close friend of Bonds and is believed by many to have regarded Redknapp taking his job as an act of disloyalty. Brooking dismissed this as mere gossip. ‘I've heard the whispers and I've seen one or two things which have been written, and it's just outrageous,' he said. ‘That business has got to be, what, nearly twenty years ago, hasn't it? Sure, I wasn't happy at the time, but I made my points then. To suggest I could be so petty is just absurd.

‘I've met Harry many times since then and it doesn't even cross my mind. I never give it a thought. Listen, if you can bear a grudge for nearly twenty years, then it's time to take a look at yourself. There were a number of candidates discussed and I had no problems with any of them. It wasn't an issue.' He went on to say that, as the only ex-professional footballer on the selection
panel, his role was bound to come under sharper scrutiny and that he didn't believe the timing of the appointment had been at all disruptive. ‘It happens,' he said. ‘You've just got to deal with it, because the general reaction to Roy has been really good. We knew his peers would be supportive, but the rest of the country seems to have reacted well. And Harry has conducted himself with a lot of dignity. By getting Roy in now, he's got a month with the squad to prepare. And a month is what an international manager only gets every two years.'

Brooking wouldn't have been the first person in football to hold a grudge for twenty years, and his idea of the timing not being disruptive was myopic to say the least. But even taking his explanations at face value, it was still difficult to explain why Redknapp had fallen so quickly out of favour. If he had never been in favour, the FA could have saved itself and everyone a great deal of trouble by ruling him out months ago. So what had gone wrong for Redknapp? Had Spurs' poor end to the season exposed previously hidden limitations in Redknapp's managerial skills? Hardly. The limitations had always been on show, as had his many capabilities. Had the FA begun to doubt his willingness to take an active interest in the England Under-21 side? If so, it was a bit late in the day to realize that youth-team football had limited appeal for him. Was the FA worried Redknapp might have other skeletons in the closet that would come back to bite him? Possibly. Redknapp had insisted he had had nothing to hide at the Stevens inquiry, but that hadn't stopped HMRC from later taking him to court, although as the police must have scoured every available document for evidence, the prospect of any future criminal proceedings would have been vanishingly slim.