Moore can be the exception to prove value of Rooney Rule

The progress of black managers has been held back and it is time for game to address issue

If ever you doubt that race remains a tinderbox issue in Premier League dugouts, consider this: until this season, there had never been a single black winner of Manager of the Month. The latest campaign, mercifully, has yielded two: Chris Hughton, for his wizardry in ensuring Brighton’s survival, and Darren Moore, who achieved the unenviable distinction of claiming the prize on the very day West Bromwich Albion – harmed irreparably by decisions made long before his appointment – were relegated.

Football might like to take a respectful pause, though, before slapping itself on the back. For it would be far more comforting to know that Moore’s elevation arose from careful, long-term deliberations, rather than a rush to find a unifying dressing-room figure to stave off the drop.

It is not even as if Moore has guaranteed himself the permanent position, despite shepherding his team from the mayhem of Alan Pardew’s reign – complete with an allegedly stolen taxi – to victories over Tottenham and Manchester United. In spite of all his proven talent, he could yet be recorded only as the Hawthorns’ convenient caretaker, a stopgap in a tracksuit.

There is a logical solution to the systemic brake on aspiring black managers’ progress, and it traces its roots to a scene 11 years ago in a Pittsburgh boardroom. Dan Rooney, then owner of the Steelers NFL franchise, championed the principle that any team looking to recruit for an executive role should interview at least one minority applicant. And when Mike Tomlin, a 34-year-old black defensive specialist from Virginia, presented himself in 2007 as a candidate to take over from Bill Cowher as head coach, he impressed so instantly that the Steelers decided they had found their man. In that one seamless act of succession, the Rooney Rule was forged.

Two years later, Tomlin became the youngest coach to lead his players to a Super Bowl triumph. He remains one of the most charismatic, respected and gifted figures to grace his sport. Surely the fact that he is black has long since ceased to be even a footnote.

Think again. In a fascinating profile of Tomlin published this week, writer Tom Junod argues: “Talk to African-american players who play for a black coach and they will tell you that the colour of their coach’s skin matters deeply, powerfully, necessarily and unavoidably. It matters, just for starters, to them.”

Junod posits the problem as one his entire country must confront: that while many white Americans talk of race being irrelevant, black Americans demand that such a force is acknowledged openly. But this disjuncture is not a US problem alone. In English football, a worrying complacency holds sway that just because over a third of Premier League players today are of black, Asian or Middle Eastern origin – as opposed to only 16.5 per cent in 1992 – the battle to kick issues of race to the margin is close to being won. The reality, as the predicament of a man such as Moore emphasises, is that it has barely begun. And yet as soon as any Premier League equivalent of the Rooney Rule is mooted, the debate descends into a repetitious squabble about meritocracy.

No quotas here, the detractors cry. You have the skill, ergo you will be given the job. Except, the evidence is overwhelming that you will not, if you happen to be black. Sol Campbell captained Arsenal, captained his country, has gained the highest coaching qualification possible in the form of the Uefa Pro Licence, and yet this year he could not even put himself in the frame as manager at Oxford United.

The most fervent advocates of meritocracy are invariably those who have enjoyed advancement themselves. It is all very well, for example, telling street children in Rio that they might one day make the Brazil team on merit, but it is hardly likely to happen if they do not have a pair of boots. By the same token, a prospective black manager has little hope of realising his potential if the system militates against him even receiving an interview. Adoption of the Rooney Rule has never been about the imposition of a quota but the granting of a foot in the door, a fair hearing, a chance.

Cricket, mercifully, appears further advanced in putting its house in order. After studying South Asian communities across the UK, the England and Wales Cricket Board decided yesterday that a minimum of one candidate from a minority ethnic background should be considered for every coaching vacancy with the men’s, women’s and disabled teams. How staggering, then, that the Premier League, where Moore has become only the seventh non-white manager in 26 years, still does not follow suit.

Moore’s rise should, by rights, be heralded as an unmitigated success story for the national game. At every step in his quest to drag West Brom back from the trapdoor, he has exuded grace, loyalty and humility. But the uncomfortable truth is that it required a period of acute turmoil at his club for him to prove he was up to the challenge. By no means does his tale illustrate that if you are good enough, you will make it, irrespective of colour or creed. Moore is, as the saying goes, the exception that proves the rule.