Let’s not name names though we all know who they are. These pundits and journalists who are of the sincere opinion that English football is fundamentally different to any other nation’s football. That it is fundamentally better.

These – for the most part, with the odd exception – Brexity dinosaurs still cling to ancient stereotypes, that foreign wingers will go missing when the going gets tough, and that foreign coaches don’t ‘get’ the culture of our game, not like ‘Big’ Sam does, or Moyesy.

Now they are proper football men. If you cut them, they bleed passion, not data

 

Indeed, it is their genuine assertion that clubs these days employ fancy-pants coaches from overseas because it is a fad and they wish to be seen to be cutting edge.

This annoys our delicate dinosaurs because their appointments mean there are fewer opportunities for Frank and Stevie. You know, promising up-and-coming English gaffers who know our game inside, out. 

Okay, let’s name a couple of names, after all. Because it’s unavoidable.

Last September, high-flying Brighton were left in the lurch when the chief architect of their fabulous football Graham Potter upped sticks for Chelsea. Just ten days later, the Seagulls brought in Roberto De Zerbi, a coach who had recently performed wonders with Sassuolo in Serie A. 

“It’s a risk,” so said Graeme Souness on a popular radio station. “You’re taking someone who doesn’t know our game. If you look him up on Google, you’ll notice that he’s had seven jobs in nine years.”

There is an awful lot to get through from just three sentences, but let’s start with the insinuation that De Zerbi might plummet Brighton into the Premier League relegation betting because he didn’t watch FA Cup finals in his PJs as a kid. 

Moving away from such flippancy, a pertinent question must be asked, which is what is there to ‘know’ exactly?

The Premier League is a thoroughly cosmopolitan cocktail of ideas and approaches, played on lush green turf, and lit up by superstars from every corner of the globe.

In this regard it is homogenous with every other league across Europe and the days when English football was distinct, because it had a lot of mud and featured gnarly fist-clenchers in midfield, is so far removed from modern-day mores as to be absurd. 

Let’s quicky deal with the rest and move on. That Souness seems to be under the impression that Brighton merely picked a name from thin air on a whim. In fact, they had long had De Zerbi lined up as a potential successor to Potter because their philosophies were aligned.

And then there’s the staggering entitlement of a ‘football man’ to air opinions, and believe they matter, that derive from a swift bit of googling.

The Scot is hardly alone of course in being distrustful of foreign coaches. 

Recently there was a classic of the genre, when Richard Keys pushed for Frank Lampard to be given the Chelsea gig because he knew the club ‘inside out’ whereas the other candidate at the time, Julian Nagelsmann ‘rides a skateboard’, ergo was lacking in substance. 

Nagelsmann has won a league title in Germany and is widely considered one of the best young coaches in the world. Lampard categorically is not.

Then there was the uproar in the media when Pep Guardiola insisted his Manchester City team didn’t practice tackling in training, tackling being a quintessentially British pursuit.

He won’t last long, they crowed, coming over here and disrespecting our ways. What’s the betting he’ll be out by Christmas.

City have just won a historic treble, while retaining their title for a third year running.

The truth is, it’s a myth that foreign coaches don’t ‘get’ English football because the only things to understand belong in the past. And ironically, as the saying goes, the past is a foreign country. They do things differently there.


*Credit for all of the photos in this article belongs to AP Photo*

Stephen Tudor is a freelance football writer and sports enthusiast who only knows slightly less about the beautiful game than you do.

A contributor to FourFourTwo and Forbes, he is a Manchester City fan who was taken to Maine Road as a child because his grandad predicted they would one day be good.