WHEN THE PHONE STOPS RINGING IT’S A DARK PLACE
Sacked by Ross County just six days before Christmas, Stuart Kettlewell has been forced to confront the mental health challenge of losing his job — and purpose — in the middle of a pandemic
THROWN off the managerial merry-go-round midseason, Stuart Kettlewell jokes that he’s now joined the circus. Locked down i n the Highlands with wife Katie, an eight-week old baby and three older children, the former Ross County boss is comforted by the chaos around the family home.
Without it, he knows things might get dark.
The 36-year-old admits he’s still processing his sacking as Ross County manager, an event that arrived just three weeks after he led the club to a first-ever win at Celtic Park.
Dismissed by chairman Roy MacGregor immediately after a Premiership defeat to Hamilton on December 19, his 11-year association with the Dingwall club remains in limbo. There is a public promise from MacGregor that a job is open for him within the club’s academy set-up but, for now, that idea remains unfulfilled.
‘Roy has always said there would be something there for me but there have been no discussions on specifics,’ says Kettlewell. ‘There will come a day where I will want to finalise things but I’m taking my time to think.
‘My mind has already changed in umpteen ways but we’re in a pandemic. It might not be up to me and what I want to do…’
Like so many during these days of Covid, Kettlewell has been using regular exercise to clear his mind and stave off cabin fever.
Twice a day he sets off from his home i n Conon Bridge for a four-mile run, often with Leo the family’s pet labradoodle galloping by his side.
‘The first few days it was constant, I had a lot of calls and things didn’t feel too different,’ he says. ‘But, as many people warned me, when the phone stops ringing it’s a dark place.
‘On the Saturday afternoon you get the itchy feet. You’re used to being embroiled in picking and preparing the team, dealing with press, all the things you thrive on.
‘It’s a lonely place. It’s only been a couple of weeks but there have been several peaks and troughs and I know it’s probably going to get worse further down the line. People probably do overlook the personal and mental health side of it.
‘I’m lucky enough that my house is like a circus. Kids, the dog and all that stuff going on.
‘But in those moments when it goes quiet you start to wonder what comes next.’
As he pounds the pavements, he’s taken to thinking of how his energy could more immediately be used for the betterment of others.
‘Today, I probably have an urge to go out and volunteer,’ he states. ‘I’ve made a lot of good connections with the charities up here in the Highlands and I’m really open to that, even if I can only make a small impact.
‘One of the things I hate in football is a misplaced ego. I love that story of the All Blacks World Cup-winning captain (Richie McCaw) picking up a brush and sweeping the dressing room.
‘I’m a big believer in that. For my own sense of purpose I’ll make a few phone calls to see if anybody needs any help, a little bit of manpower.
‘Longer-term, I’m desperate to be involved in football. But this is a time where I get a chance to reset.
‘I’m thinking about what I did right and wrong, and think about how to go forward.
‘I’ve certainly not earned fortunes from the game that would allow me to retire today. I need to put food on the table for my family like anyone else.
‘I worked in a bank for five years before I was a full-time footballer, so none of that scares me.’
Kettlewell’s banking work overlapped with his stint as an amateur at Queen’s Park, where he came under the wing of Billy Stark, a strong influence to this day.
It was then on to a short stint with Clyde in his hometown of Cumbernauld, a year that ended in relegation and financial disarray.
‘Billy taught me everything, how to conduct myself and think about the game a bit more methodically
rather than be a raving lunatic running around the pitch wanting to fight with people.
‘That year at Clyde was tough and, as captain, I took a lot of flak and felt sorry for myself. But these are the experiences you learn most from.’
In 2009, he joined Ross County and within a year he was involved in a Scottish Cup final, later earning promotion to the top flight under Derek Adams and helping the club to a third-place finish in its first season.
Beset by a hip injury, he left the club at 30 and, after a brief stint at Brora Rangers, joined County’s coaching staff and won the SPFL’s development league title in 2017, an achievement that paved the way for his ascent to first-team management after the sacking of Owen Coyle a few months later.
Just 33 when asked by MacGregor to join Steven Ferguson in a co-management team, the pair saw out the season and then presided over a promotion-winning campaign.
When Covid hit, MacGregor restructured the club and moved Ferguson into the role of chief executive, leaving Kettlewell in sole charge.
‘I look at what has happened over the last six years as the biggest whirlwind,’ he reflects. ‘I have crammed a lot in and some of the milestones keep me perked up.
‘That development title, taking on the co-manager role, winning a promotion, winning the Challenge Cup, keeping the club in the league last season albeit in unusual circumstances.
‘I absolutely loved the co-management with Steven. We have a brilliant friendship first and foremost but we developed our football relationship working in a wee cupboard.
‘We felt our partnership was a real success and those were probably the moments I enjoyed most. I don’t have an ego. People told me I would enjoy being the main man but I don’t need to have people looking at me that way. ‘But even up to the last couple of weeks, getting the club’s first victory at Parkhead, there were so many highs.
‘I’m thinking about the lows at the minute because I have just lost my job. It’s so important that you’re not too proud to admit you got it wrong. ‘One of my pet hates in the game is when you walk in a dressing room and there are players pointing the finger at each other.
‘You have to take ownership. People have said to me the players needed to take responsibility for wha t happened at County. ‘I’m not a guy for that. I point the finger at one person. Myself. ‘I believe everybody has a
Steven Ferguson and I have a brilliant friendship but we developed our football relationship working in a wee cupboard
responsibility to look yourself in the mirror. But is the game like that generally? I’m not so sure.’
For a team that turned in the perfect counter-attacking performance against Celtic in the cup, County’s league form was oddly lacking in conviction and bottomed out in that defeat to Accies, a fourth loss in a run that also saw the team exit the Betfred Cup to Livingston at the quarter-final stage.
Although MacGregor’s decisionmaking was sudden and brutal, it spared his manager any drawn-out speculation over his future.
It also afforded Kettlewell the chance to say a classy goodbye. There would have been no shame in retreating quietly to the family home that evening but, instead, Kettlewell decided to fulfil his usual round of post-match media interviews and break the news himself.
In the hours and days that followed, he experienced a wave of sympathy and encouragement.
‘I’m a big boy and I felt as if I dealt with the scenario as well as I could, I tried to leave with my integrity intact,’ he says. ‘I’ve had some incredible contact, calls and text messages that overwhelmed me. I couldn’t believe it.
‘One came from a really highprofile manager, who I’d rather not name. His message was almost a congratulations on what I have achieved, which I thought was a really good spin on the usual condolences.
‘Being critical of myself, I’m not good at communicating like that. I don’t do social media, I’m not involved in that world.
‘I’m one of these guys who picks up the phone rather than dropping texts or posting something online.
‘This has probably made me sit up and take notice. Go and show some appreciation. Don’t get stuck in this bubble, being in Dingwall, thinking the world revolves around Ross County.
‘Seeing Stephen Robinson leave Motherwell makes me want to reach out and congratulate him for the job he did.’
Kettlewell continues to draw encouragement from the knowledge he gleaned from conversations with the likes of Robinson and Brendan Rodgers, who took time to host he and Ferguson for a post-game summit at Celtic Park just weeks into their caretaker tenure
When MacGregor unveiled John Hughes as County’s new manager, Kettlewell immediately called up to voice his support to the new man.
‘I wished John well and I’ve been watching the games on club TV,’ adds Kettlewell. ‘I want the team to do well, those young players I’ve worked with. Seeing Harry Paton and Oli Shaw score against Hibs, I was really happy for them.’
Yet having focused on the players under his charge for so long, it’s important he now devotes some time to daughter Olivia (16) and sons Ethan (10), Reece (5) and new arrival Kai.
‘Anybody in management realises that there are two certainties — either you get sacked or you move on to something else,’ he admits.
‘In the back of your mind you always realise it is a possibility. People say the timing wasn’t great because I have a young family but look at the circumstances around the world. So many people don’t have a job. I’m a part of society not just a football person.
‘I have taken so much time away from my family, so I need to take some time to be a dad.’
At an age when most coaches are taking their baby steps, Kettlewell is entitled to feel well ahead of the game in career terms.
Yet as Covid continues to exert a tight grip on the game, the offer of a secure job back at County may prove irresistible in the short term at least. He adds: ‘We’ve not had a whole load of contact but that’s fine because everyone knows the relationship I’ve had with Roy over the years. If I feel the correct job for me is at Ross County, I certainly wouldn’t go back with any spite.’