He didn’t try to be hard – he just was!
ALAN Smith, the former Crystal Palace manager, was once asked to reflect on managing the young Chris Coleman.
“He was 21 when he came to us from Swansea,” said the 70year-old. “And what struck me straight away was his bearing. A lot of footballers grow up trying to be hard. Chris was hard. He didn’t need to pretend.”
Coleman was no cynical hatchet man, no Vinnie Jones or Ben Thatcher. Though physically imposing, his toughness lay in confidence and charisma. Nobody bullied him, on the pitch or in the dressing room.
It was Coleman’s duty to drill a back four. Then, he had to ensure no player overstayed their welcome in the pubs and clubs of Croydon.
No matter that many were a decade older. Coleman, says Smith, was already an authority figure – a leader of men.
Those qualities were honed early in life. His dad, Paddy, a Dubliner who died in 2014, was an encouraging parent who never raised his voice on the touchline. But, when it came to confrontation, the message to his son was uncompromising.
“If it’s a fight,” said Coleman, “my father always said to me ‘If you lose, you’ve got to be walking forward throwing punches back, not on your hands and knees crawling away getting kicked in the backside’. It stuck with me.”
Later, after home town club Swansea spotted him, boss Terry Yorath built on those foundations.
“Terry turned me into a man,” said Coleman, who made his debut for the Swans in a Division Four clash with Stockport in August 1987. “I was 16 when he put me in the first team. He really hammered home about being professional, acting like an adult.”
By the time he joined Crystal Palace for £275,000 in 1991, Coleman had played 200 times and was every bit the senior pro. As team-mate John Salako put it, the kind of man who said ‘That’s my bit of cake and I’m going to eat it’.
Charisma
Hewn of similar stuff was team-mate Gareth Southgate. Born just months apart, the pair would form a formidable defensive barrier and a lifelong friendship.
“Gareth was more thoughtful and studious,” said Smith. “He always looked immaculate. At first, he didn’t even swear!
“Chris was the original man’s man. Women liked him, men liked him. He'd be happy being chatted up, or staying with his mates for a few pints. He had this charisma that people just warmed to.
“But they had two important things in common. They were both exceptional defenders and both commanded respect.”
Though Southgate would ultimately forge the better career, it was Coleman who won the big move, joining reigning champions Blackburn in 1995. Though he loved working with Kenny Dalglish, injury and illfortune ensured an unhappy stay at Ewood Park.
Persuaded to join Kevin Keegan’s Fulham revolution – he was the club’s record signing in 1997 – Coleman proved a totemic figure as the Whites powered from Second Division obscurity to a place in the Premier League.
But, just when the big time beckoned again, disaster struck. In January 2001, Coleman was nearly killed when his Jaguar hit black ice and landed upside down in a ditch.
Firemen took an hour to cut him free and, at one stage, considered amputating his foot. Though the defender battled through surgery and rehab to make a brief return in 2003, retirement swiftly followed.
“It was a crying shame because Chris was at his peak when the accident happened,” said Kit Symons, a team-mate at Fulham who has since become an integral part of Coleman’s coaching set-up.
Best
“He was the best captain I ever played for and, as a player, he was getting better all the time. He took a massive gamble dropping into the Second Division and it was just about to pay off. Sadly, he was never able to reap the rewards of all the work he put in at the club.” Though, in a sense, he did. Just months later, Coleman became the Premier League’s youngest boss at just 32 with Fulham. He lasted 176 games before being replaced by Lawrie Sanchez. Subsequent stints at Coventry, Real Sociedad and Greek side Larissa proved more short-lived, but an SOS from Wales in 2012 reversed ailing fortunes.
Reeling from the death of friend and Wales boss Gary Speed, Coleman took the job with a heavy heart. An early 61 defeat to Serbia very nearly prompted resignation.
Gradually, though, Coleman hit on a system. Aware that Gareth Bale could win games on his own, Coleman poured all his efforts into improving the defence, on building an ethos of banter and bonds. The results, famously, were spectacular.
“The way they get on, the way they’re all up off the bench to celebrate a goal, that all comes from Chris’ manmanagement,” said Clinton Morrison, who played under Coleman at Coventry.
“Even if you aren’t playing, he makes you feel part of it. You’d go into his office angry but come out happy after what he’d said. He always knew the right things to say.”
According to Smith, international management also suited his old friend. “If he had a weakness in the Fulham days, it was the Monday to Friday churn of the job,” he said. “But on a Tuesday or Saturday, when we had a game, he’d be brilliant.”
Now he’s back in the churnat Sunderland, Coleman will need all that old toughness and so will his players. “If you’re committed, you’re in, if you’re not you’re out,” he said. “We don’t need any shrinking violets.”