Archive November 5, 2025

The amount of data used by football clubs is one of the biggest differences between my time as a manager and when I first started out 33 years ago.

It drives a lot of modern sport, not just the recruitment of players, but also the care of them in both the sports science and medical departments.

Since I first started working in the dugout at Bournemouth in 1992, the same year the Premier League era began, there have been some amazing innovations made, but I would argue that there are many ways it has made a manager’s job harder, not easier, than what is currently viewed as old-school.

The chairman, secretary, and manager were the only three people in charge of the club when I think back to those early days.

It has completely changed now.

Along with the first team and reserves, there is a recruiting department, a medical department, a fitness team, and of course, an academy for boys and girls. An army of workers, led and led by department heads, can make up each.

They are all distinct entities striving to achieve their own goals, and data frequently guides their development.

And while they once had complete control, today’s managers or head coaches are frequently subservient to those in charge of these departments and make their decisions.

When the manager is fired, and given how much of an impact they have had on the club’s culture, what I find fascinating to watch how many of those people leave the club.

The director of football, who typically works particularly closely with recruitment, an area that is almost certainly data-driven, instructs and guides each department head.

Even though I signed hundreds of players as a manager for more than three decades, none of them were data-driven, unless you add the database I had in my own head.

Based on the information I personally collected each week, watching live league, reserve, and non-league games, and making contacts with various scouts and managers of all levels, was the basis of that database. Typically, managers would expect to arrive at training at 8 am each morning and return home after midnight.

Despite having a network of scouts spread out across the nation, we still frequently spoke with people about both young and old players they had seen.

I would always try to follow up a player’s recommendation by watching him at least three times, with the exception of two outings because I always believed that if a player had a good character, that aspect would shine more in away games.

The Rothmans Football Yearbook was my bible in those days before there was an internet connection, and it provided invaluable information on players from all league teams.

Under Harry Redknapp, I first learned the value of having that knowledge when I first started out as a player-coach at Bournemouth.

At all of my clubs, I oversaw the hiring process. I would let my scouts and coaches know what I wanted, then I would research their ideas and watch them get in action.

More noise would be made in this area from other members of the club as the years went on, but I always vowed to be the one to make the final choice.

My scouts and coaches were aware of the players I wanted for each position. I frequently saw talented players, but I never attempted to sign them because they defied the team identity I was in charge of at the time.

In the data-driven model that is used today, where the profile of signings is based on the club’s identity and what the manager needs, that kind of thinking should be applied.

There are some more well-known Premier League clubs that haven’t used it as effectively, but Brighton, Brentford, and Bournemouth are good examples of where it has worked brilliantly.

The Premier League has become a world league with over 65% of its players being foreign players, which is amazing how they discovered these players.

Being a dinosaur, I would still always insist on watching the player before signing them, and I’m sure most managers now would want that as well, despite the fact that data is an incredible resource for finding new talent.

I was more than happy to accept full responsibility for the player I signed if he or she did not fit the bill, and there were many.

However, it doesn’t always go that way anymore, and it has irritated me to learn that some of the players brought in haven’t even seen the manager.

You will never succeed unless everything is joined up.

Young managers today frequently don’t know anything about this, but when I speak with them about it, I always remind them that when your team is playing, you are in charge of the dugout, and that because it’s your job that’s in your hands, the team should be made of your own.

The same problems are present in most professional clubs’ sports science and medical departments.

I had a very straightforward and successful guide at the time of my management career to determine whether or not my fitness work was successful. I was aware that my players were working hard enough even if they were moaning and sweating.

Every department I’ve mentioned has grown both financially and physically. They each play a distinct and significant role, which is demonstrated by how much they cost the club, and it was important for me to hold each department head accountable for their actions.

I’ve always believed that sports science departments and fitness coaches should be challenged. They should bear responsibility for fitness levels and some injuries because they are crucial to the manager’s preparation.

For instance, knee, ankle, and joint injuries were always viewed differently from muscular injuries, which were unquestionably preventable, in my opinion.

Some fantastic doctors and medical teams knew what they were doing, but they never seemed to care about the club’s goals or the comfort of their ill players.

When we constructed a new training facility in Stoke, I thought about doing that. The medical room had five beds by the time they finished it, compared to the two I only wanted. What’s the issue, I asked the club’s chairman, Peter Coates, who was speaking to me. ‘.

Peter, I said to you, “If you have two beds, you’ll have two people injured there.” Because it serves as a comfort zone for those who are not members of the team and fosters the wrong culture, there will be five of them lying there.

In the end, I received my desired two beds, and I was not permitted to enter if I wasn’t hurt. I would continue to support that attitude if I didn’t want anyone to think that an easy-ozy attitude was acceptable.