I like strong players, magicians who are not just yes men...
BILIC: THE MAVERICK IN THE WEST HAM HOTSEAT
THE manager who hates to be called a rock star is limping around the Olympic Stadium. A day that started in Croatia is ending in his new home with his old colours.
‘I am quite tired but excited,’ he says. ‘ A lot has happened very quickly.’
In front of Slaven Bilic is the dusty straight where Usain Bolt won three gold medals. Beyond it is the field of dreams, covered in tools and mounds of sand. The transformation of a stadium and football club is occurring in tandem and the guitar hero from West Ham’s past is now essential to their future. He is still trying to make sense of it all.
‘The Olympics were straight after Euro 2012 and I had gone to Lokomotiv Moscow,’ he says. ‘I watched the Games at home and who would have had an idea that three years later I’d be here and talking about West Ham in the Olympic Stadium? This is very brilliant.’
He talks in whispers; he walks with a shuffle, the legacy of a fractured hip suffered beforeefore the 1998 World Cup. His link to this ‘cult club’ was forged across only one and a half seasons nearly two decades ago, a relationship built through the simple wisdom of Harry Redknapp and the aura of 1966. ‘There is more to it but I can’t explain properly,’ he says.
‘ The one thing about England is there are no small clubs — only big clubs and bigger clubs. On top of that, West Ham has something. I am not saying that because I am an explayer and now manager.
‘They have something special — a cult club. I always believed that. They are moving in a new direction, but they will always have that feel. I cannot quite describe it. It is not only about the West Ham players (from) 1966 — that was big. But there is more.
‘People in England might not know but in Europe it is seen as a special club. I am very, very happy to be back.’
Up he gets from the directors’ box and heads down to the dressing rooms. ‘Last time I was at West Ham we were struggling,’ he says.
‘Second season, in 1997, I think we were not safe until we drew 0-0 with Newcastle in the second-to-last game. I remember clearly because if we lost, we then had Manchester United away. Harry Redknapp was brilliant. He has a way of speaking that is perfect. He talks simple football. He can pretend to complicate things and say “This right back has great anaerobic capacity”. But no, not Harry. He just says, “That guy, he is quick”. He is a brilliant manager. I had a great time.’
Bilic moves on to his huge future office, which will have its own kitchen. He limps around it, always stepping heavily on his left side.
His World Cup in 1998 is remembered for how he got Laurent Blanc of France sent off, but there was the wider context of how he went there with a fractured left hip and played through the pain. He did not have the operation until 2012. ‘I feel no pain now,’ he says. ‘It’s okay.’
But there could be no worse time for West Ham to stumble. Their business plan depends hugely on still being a Premier League club when they enter their new home next year. They gambled by not renewing the contract of Sam Allardyce, a man who never quite won the fans’ hearts and minds.
Conventional wisdom says Bilic has that desirable something that folk at the club want — he likes attacking football and ‘magicians’, as he calls his playmakers.
‘If you want to be successful you can’t have just one way of playing,’ he says. ‘You need organisation and also flair players.’
The mystery is how far West Ham can go with a new style and bigger arena. Some predictions are for a Champions League future, though Bilic says: ‘Our aim is not the Champions League for now. That will be a miracle. But this club has the potential and if you don’t think about the possibility of that then you definitely will not do it.’
Allardyce’s case proved that results alone are not always enough. But Bilic, a 46-year-old with a knack for winning friends, comes with softer edges. When he got out of a car at Sabiha Gokcen Airport in Turkey earlier this month, he led the ultras of Besiktas in a farewell song. He ended up on their shoulders.
It fits the profile of this qualified lawyer and socialist who has a pierced left ear and a smoking habit (he used to get through 40 a day but has cut back). He wears a beanie hat on the sidelines and before Euro 2008 played guitar on a track called Fiery Madness.
It’s a warm reputation, but it is a talking point surrounding his appointment that has started to grate. ‘I think I am not different from any other football manager,’ he says. ‘People sometimes write about me that I am a rock star. I am not. I am just like anyone else.
‘I came here as a manager and I am a good manager. I do not want to talk about guitars. I like music, everyone likes music. I am only trying to be like me. I am not a boring person. But I have never played a concert — I am a manager.’
At the third time of asking, he is West Ham’s manager. He is earning a reported annual salary of £3million, having twice rejected them in 2008 and 2010 in favour of staying in charge of Croatia, where his wages were £80,000 a year. He spent six years in that job and walking out on his country was never an option.
‘It was never the case that I wasn’t happy with West Ham,’ he says. ‘It was just I had committed to my country. It was impossible to leave.’
Now he is back. He was not the first choice for this job but he is sure to be exciting, a boss who backs mavericks as much as he appreciates solid defending.
‘Every manager would love players who will nod at whatever you say,’ he says. ‘But to go to an away game in front of 60,000 people booing, you have to be special. I cannot point at a blue chair and say “Look at that purple chair” to someone special. If he is strong on the pitch, he is strong off the pitch. I like those characters.’
Bilic is likely to be a different sort of character, whether he sees himself that way or not. The priority list for season tickets at the former Olympic Stadium is now open. Visit whufc.com