Nearly Famous

MALCOLM Allison, who died last week, aged 83, was fondly remembered by all the national newspapers, and rightly so. For a trade which is the embodiment of power without responsibility, particularly in what the late, great Ian 'Dan' Archer used to refer to as: "the comics section", i.e. the sports pages, 'Big Mal' was a gift.

He arrived on the scene just as the celebrity manager became popular. The hitherto near-anonymous boss, tribly-wearind, besuited, probably a pipe smoker, was being replaced by the new-style track-suited boss. Tommy Docherty, Bill Shankly, Don Revie, Bill Nicholson, Jock Stein - mostly post-war players, who, even as managers, still thought like players, were replacing the previous generation - foremen were taking over from managers if you like; or perhaps the officer class: Busby, Symon etc were ceding power on the training field to ncos.

Allison was a big man with a big personality, who provided "good copy" to the papers, who were, back then, fighting to hold on to their near-monopoly on football coverage from the ever-encroaching tentacles of TV. The papers needed managers who were outrageous and Allison, like Docherty and Brian Clough, fitted the new bill.

Allison was, let there be no doubting this, a good coach, maybe a great coach - working on the training field, he could improve individual players and make a good team better. However, he wasn't much cop as a manager.

In this country, his best work was done as number two to Joe Mercer, one of the officer class (albeit having risen through the ranks as it were). Mercer could temper his assistant's more-outlandish statements and ideas with more than a little common sense; he could also come up with good copy for the press, without, as Allison never managed, straying into the realms of the ridiculous.

Allison also did reasonably well abroad, where they don't have British-style managers, but coaches who primarily coach, with the running of the club and the general direction left to a general manager. But, the grim fact is, when he was Honcho at a British club, he was hopeless.

He was perhaps a better number two than number one. There just might be an erudite book in analysing great British managerial pairings.

Would Bill Shankly have been as good without the input of Bob Paisley? As the successon continued, how might Paisley, like Shankly before him, have managed without the boot room 'think tank' putting in their two-penceworth? Just how big was Jimmy Murphy's largely-unheralded part in creating the legend of Busby? How come Cloughie didn't do as well without Peter Taylor?

Great coaches and innovators such as Allison sometimes go too far, they need a steadying hand to rein them in, Mercer did this so well, nobody else could.

Today we celebrate managers more than ever. But, as they have become almost as big as, and in some cases, such as Fergie and "The Chosen One" bigger than their players, the fact is, managers no longer have the power to influence clubs as they once did.

Managers such as Willie Maley, Bill Struth, Herbert Chapman, "Sailor" Hunter at Motherwell, reigned for decades; they were allowed to set the complete agenda for their clubs. The directors, usually local small businessmen or entrepreneurs, enjoyed the benefits of their status at the local Masonic Lodges, Conservative Clubs and the like; their was largely a hands-off role, leaving the running of the club to the manager.

Today, basking in reflected glory down the Lodge or at the golf club isn't enough for the directors. In different economic times, they have to spend more time checking-out their investments; the players might still be barely-educated working-class boys, but they are now as rich as, if not richer than the directors. Being a director is harder today, the fans want instant success, which transmits into added pressure coming down on the manager from the board room.

Guys like Malcolm Allison brought this about - maybe he should have stuck to coaching players on the training park, he might have had an easier life.

But, we, the fans, would have lost out on reading about the adventures and mis-adventures of a one-off.