ROCK STAR TAKING ON JOSE
He is the Mustang-driving, wannabe rock star manager taking on Mourinho
GARETH AINSWORTH has left his orange 1969 fastback Ford Mustang in a car park a few streets away. He is not wearing the lucky red snakeskin boots he rocked for the League One play-off final at Wembley last year when his Wycombe Wanderers team were promoted to the Championship, either. He is not wearing his open-necked skin-tight black shirt. Or his leather jacket.
Instead, Ainsworth is standing alone on the pavement outside a coffee shop in the centre of Henley-on-Thames with a takeaway cup in his hand, wearing neutral colours, sensible shoes and an elegant overcoat, just right for a walk by the river in regatta country. If it wasn’t for his long hair, he might almost look inconspicuous.
We walk for a while among the dog owners who are wrapped up against the squalls and the joggers on the Thames Path heading towards the little footbridge that skirts the roiling weir. It is very different from the social life he used to lead: the crowded bars; busy restaurants; playing to rock fans or football supporters; holding them there; keeping their attention.
It is a long way from rock and roll out here. Sometimes, it feels as if we can lose sight of Ainsworth the football man in our enthusiasm for Ainsworth the singer for his band, Cold Blooded Hearts.
In our thirst for difference; for character, there is a danger we overlook the quality of his work. ‘In one breath, people say “There are not enough characters in the game any more”,’ says Ainsworth. ‘ Then the same people will look at my hair or my jacket and say “Look at the state of him”. They can say what they want but the lesson is that it is really important to be yourself.’
AINS WORTH ,47, is not some managerial fly- by- night. He has been in charge of Wycombe for more than eight years, which means he has the longest current tenure as a manager in the League. You don’t rescue your small, underfunded ded side from relegation from League Two then win two promotions to the Championship without being very good at your job.
You don’t mastermind that rise without ever paying a transfer fee and knowing how to improve players and striving every day to do it. ‘Actually,’ says Ainsworth, wryly, ‘there is a debate about whether we paid something for Michael Harriman in one of my first seasons but if we did, it was about £3,000, so we can’t really count that.’
You don’t prosper in the cut-throat world of the English lower leagues just because people take a shine to you because you have never renounced your love for Guns N’ Roses and Motley Crue. You don’t take a team like Wycombe into the second tier and an FA Cup fourth-round tie against Jose Mourinho and Spurs tomorrow without belief in yourself and your value system.
‘I don’t want to conform,’ says Ainsworth. ‘I don’t want to blend in. I never have. I enjoy it when people criticise me. I enjoy walking around in my leather jacket just to see the l ooks you get off people. The question for me is always “Why?” People say “Cut your hair” or “Be a bit smarter”. My question i s, “Why?” Because I don’t believe there is a reason why you shouldn’t be you.
‘The way I look, the way I dress, it doesn’t make any difference to my performance. If my boys were going to win every game because I had short hair, I’d cut it because
I’m a winner and I want to win games but I know i t wo n ’ t ma k e any difference. There will be a c hai r man who might say: “I want to employ him but he doesn’t look the part.” And t hat’s OK, he’s missing out, that’s his choice.
‘ Am I an attentionseeker? I like the attention. I don’t go out and seek it. it I wouldn’t class myself as an attention- seeker. That’s narcissistic. It has a negative connotation. I’m not afraid of attention. I love being on stage. I’m confident. I’m a people person. With football and music, you’re on the stage. There’s definitely a crossover there. The influence you have over a crowd. The energy you can give the crowd. That’s what I buzz off.
‘I feel fortunate to have this job. I never take it for granted. I just go in to the training ground and try and make these players better than they are every single day, tell them they can achieve things that even they don’t think they can every single day. And that’s my way. That’s my style of management. I think some of our success has been down to the players being allowed to be themselves. They are allowed to express themselves and not just in football. I hear discussions on the bus sometimes or at lunchtime where they will be debating politics. We won’t conform at Wycombe. There was a time when players like Graeme Le Saux would have the mickey ripped out of them for reading The Guardian. We are a hundred million miles away from that.
‘ People respect each other at Wycombe no matter what they are into. We have the biggest social media player in the lower leagues in Adebayo Akinfenwa and then we have a player doing a Masters degree in psychology and my job has been to bring them together when they might never have come across each other in our society. That diversity is a huge advantage. You can solve more problems when you have a bigger spectrum of problem solving.
‘Some people worry about going into a room full of people they don’t know. They shrink. That’s not me. I buzz off seeing how much energy I can give these people. It is a challenge for me. How can I influence these people? That’s the challenge as a manager too. If my players can show off and be the
I’ve so much respect for Jose Mourinho. Some say he’s a narcissist, but it’s all geared to winning