SHARUKO ON SATURDAY

0303-1-1-DIRTY OLD FOX 1LIKE BIRDS OF THE SAME FEATHER, PASUWA AND RANIERI HAVE BEEN FLOCKING TOGETHERFOR me, the English summer of 2003 proved quite special, one of the reasons for this being that I finally met my idol, legendary sportswriter and commentator Christopher Martin-Jenkins, a thoroughbred sports journalist widely acknowledged as one of the finest of all-time. Simply known as CMJ by his colleagues, he was the journalist whose work had played a massive part in planting the seeds of attraction, which would eventually seduce me into the trenches of this profession and ignite my endless love affair with this profession.

Ten years later, he would be dead, gone at the age of 67, after losing his battle against cancer.

But, there was more to that tour of duty, which made it unforgettable than just meeting an idol I would lose 10 years down the line and the beauty of covering Test cricket tours is that you always have plenty of time to sample the sights and sounds of your host country.

And England, in the summer of 2003, provided a lot for that unlike on my previous visits for the Commonwealth Games in Manchester in 2002 or with Blackpool in ’95.

The Zimbabwean community in England had grown substantially and, after work, I used to take the train ride to various places and developed a particular liking to Leicester, a city where Murape Murape had now pitched his residence as part of a significant population of people from home who now stayed there.

They even had a pub, in the centre of town, which they called “Machembere” and it used to be my first port of call, if I wanted to see a group of my fellow Zimbabweans hanging out at night in Leicester back then, having a drink or two and regularly taking nostalgic journeys to the real home sweet home thousands of kilometres away.

For the natives of Leicester, the summer of 2003 was also very special.

I arrived in their town to witness a city having a massive party, celebrating their beloved football club’s stunning journey from tragedy into triumph, from slipping into the chaos and possible destruction that came with administration, after sinking into a pool of debt in excess of $46,4 million, before a rescue package saved it from imminent collapse.

And, just eight months after being rescued from possible ruin in October 2002, Leicester City sensationally secured a ticket into the Premiership in May 2003, after finishing second in the old Division One championship race to Portsmouth, and I arrived in the City of the Foxes to find a town celebrating their football team’s miraculous story.

Since then, charmed by those beautiful and unforgettable moments I shared with the residents of Leicester in the summer of 2003, the Foxes have retained a special place in my heart.

For some, among Leicester town’s new generation of residents like Murape Murape, the Foxes’ blue-and-white home colours provided a connection to a club they had left back home, the DeMbare of their dreams, and that they found a reason to support Leicester City was as predictable as it was sentimental.

And last year, we watched in amazement as a club that was almost ruined by financial challenges in 2002 rose to become English Premiership champions.

That this miracle was masterminded by a then 64-year-old coach who, in 30 years of coaching some of the world’s most powerful football clubs — Napoli, Fiorentina, Atletico Madrid, Chelsea, Juventus, Roma, Inter Milan and Monaco, had failed to win a top-flight league title, dismissed by his critics as a man who was past his sell-by-date, made Leicester City’s success even more remarkable.

A JOB WHERE YOU LIVE

AND DIE BY YOUR RESULTS

So popular was Ranieri that his lookalike, an unemployed Scottish electrician from Glasgow made the trip to Leicester and took advantage of the Italian’s popularity, in the madness of the celebrations triggered by the team’s success, to sleep with 26 women in the town who believed they were dating the coach.

Ranieri didn’t only turn himself into the King of Leicester, but he also won various awards, notably the English Premier League Manager of the Season, World Soccer Magazine Manager of the Year, English Premiership’s League Managers Association Manager of the Year, the BBC Sports’ Coach of the Year, ESPN Coach of the Year and FIFA’s Coach of the Year.

But, just nine months after celebrating his finest hour, with his team’s triumph attracting a quarter-of-a-million people onto the streets of Leicester to watch their open-top bus parade, Raineri was gone.

Fired by the owners of the Foxes as the club flirted with relegation.

Jose Mourinho leapt to the defence of Ranieri, which was probably expected given the Portuguese gaffer was also fired just months after leading Chelsea to a league championship.

But, for Ranieri to believe he would always be protected by the championship he won, for a modest club and the awards he collected after that, was certainly as foolish as it was flawed in the brutal reality of what football has become today and in a Premiership where relegation has serious financial implications.

Just being in the Premiership next season guarantees the Foxes more than £100 million in revenue from the TV deal, a further £10 million at every home Match Day in earnings, which is far more than the £100 million they won for being champions, while a drop into the Championship would see them getting just £3 million, from TV money.

And, for club which just 14 years ago flirted with financial ruin, this was just unacceptable.

Something had to give and, in this case, Ranieri paid the price.

If we are to credit the Foxes’ incredible success to Raneiri, which is fair because he was the coach who picked the team and made all the calls, then we should also be able to credit the team’s stunning fall from champions into relegation trouble to the same coach because that is the way this game works.

If we give him credit for introducing N’Golo Kante, which he deserves, why then should we also not fault him for not finding another Kante, or anyone close to the Frenchman, with the player he signed as a replacement failing badly to make an impression he has virtually been phased out of the team? Would we be wrong to suggest Kante’s influence, and not Ranieri’s tactical brilliance, was probably the difference between winning and losing the title?

It’s the coach’s job to nurse and manage the egos of his players, many of which became inflated because of the success, and here the Italian was a colossal failure because it’s something he hasn’t handled before and once opponents found a way to deal with his one-dimensional approach of counter-attacking football, and thereby neutralising Jamie Vardy’s threat, Ranieri’s shortcomings were brutally exposed.

When, like Ranieri, you are feted like a king by being named FIFA Coach of the Year, you would have set certain standards and you can’t let those levels drop, just months after scaling those heights, and as much as football was fair to reward the Italian for his success last year, the game was also fair to condemn him for his failure to maintain those lofty levels.

He raised the expectations of the people of Leicester, made them live their dream and believe they could no longer be considered as just another average community with an under-achieving football club and, for that he should be saluted and — as someone who knows that town well — I can understand the impact this had on the city.

But when the standards plummeted so rapidly and they are soon turned into a punching bag, under the watch of the same coach, then the gaffer also has to bear responsibility because his only responsibility can’t only be measured when times are good and then he escapes scrutiny when times are horrible.

George Graham — who won six trophies with Arsenal, including the championship, back in the days when the Gunners were a proper heavyweight football club that didn’t spend a dozen years without being champions and still celebrate such mediocrity as a queer model of success — provided a refreshing analysis that was a departure from the usual glowing words of comfort provided by coaches when one of them loses a job.

“If he was a CEO in charge of a company that made £5 billion one year but just about broke even the next, he would be sacked. There isn’t too much difference,” Graham told The Daily Mirror of England.

CLAUDIO AND CALLISTO, WHAT A STRIKING TALE OF TRIUMPH AND DIVORCE

Ranieri’s finest hour came in the same year that Callisto Pasuwa also celebrated his greatest achievement by guiding the Warriors to the Nations Cup finals after 10 years of repeated failure which had traumatised a nation that has always loved its football team despite its frustrating habit of disappointing them on regular basis.

Where a German and Brazilian gaffer, and two of the most highly-rated local coaches, had failed as the Warriors staggered in the gloom of failure in exactly a decade, Pasuwa changed the script and ended that nightmare, at the first time of taking charge of the team, by masterminding his men’s return to a dance with African football’s aristocracy.

To many of those who believed in him, Pasuwa was the very clone of Sunday Chidzambwa — the most successful Zimbabwean coach in history — the one they had been waiting for all along, and his achievements with winning four straight league championships with Dynamos, which provided a throwback to an era when the Glamour Boys ruled the domestic football scene, provided them with a reason to believe in him as their Messiah.

And he backed their belief in him with results, very, very big results, eliminating Cameroon by holding them in their backyard as he took his country back to the African Games for the first time in 20 years, qualifying for the CHAN finals and, more importantly, dominating his 2017 Nations Cup qualifying group which his men won with a three-point cushion to become the first troops of Warriors to top their AFCON qualifying group in 36 years.

That he could achieve all that despite going for months without being paid, as he served his nation, without the aid of what his opponents took for granted, like regular friendly internationals, and leading a volatile battalion whose focus was regularly affected by revolt by players demanding their unpaid dues, made Pasuwa’s achievements very, very special.

And, more importantly, he was just like the guy next door, a laid-down character who didn’t court any controversy, who was comfortable with seeing his face on the back pages of newspapers and who didn’t consider himself a celebrity but just a servant for his people, just another guy from Chitungwiza who was fighting for the cause of his country and who delivered, despite all the challenges he faced, made him such a loveable character.

He was also deeply religious, a devoted family man who believed in God, and in a country that treasures those who love the Lord, Pasuwa was the coach sent from heaven to deliver his nation to the green Canaan fields of success, our football Moses who would pluck us from the slavery of failure and deliver us to the Promised Land.

What a humble guy, the one you always wished to see succeeding.

But, just like Ranieri, he wasn’t faultless, because no one is, and while some of his worst critics are lucky that their shortcomings don’t play out in the public gallery, that they don’t get the regular tests he faced in his tough job, for they will never be given a national assignment where their fault-lines can be dissected by an entire nation, Pasuwa never shied away from responsibility and considered it a privilege.

And, as far as I’m concerned, Pasuwa was a huge success with the Warriors and, while I respect those who feel otherwise, I feel some of the abuse he has taken has been very, very unfair and can only come from shameless critics who live in a reality world that would make the Khadasians green with envy and probably should consider rehearsing for Big Brother Africa, where everything is smooth-flowing, the next time the show comes along.

But, having said that Pasuwa, on reflection, should also acknowledge — for the sake of the future of a career that still promises a lot for him — that he was badly exposed in Gabon, he still has a lot to learn for him to realise his potential and believing the lie of those who tell him he is the best thing that ever happened to football coaching, will not help him develop into the coach that he can become.

He also needs to choose his backroom staff wisely, investing in people who can help him when the going gets tough and his coaching abilities have been tested to the limit, as was the case in Gabon, rather than settle on lightweight assistants because he want those who cannot threaten his job, who can possibly replace him, because the glory will always be his.

He also needs to concede that the game has turned scientific, where reading the strengths and weaknesses of your opponents is as important as selecting the best XI who will fight your battles and — on reflection — he would have done a better job in Gabon if he had listened to George Mbwando’s advice rather than retreat into a shell, camouflaged by the lies of those who told him he couldn’t learn anything from a man who doesn’t know what it means to coach Dynamos, let alone win four straight league titles with the Glamour Boys.

Those who said where was George Mbwando when Pasuwa, with his two-in-one blanket, was taking that long and dangerous road trip to Blantyre with his troops for a Nations Cup qualifier they won after just arriving hours before the contest against Malawi.

Callisto reminds me a lot about Claudio, two coaches who did incredibly well but could only go so far and, when push came to shove, they were both exposed badly — the Italian being undermined by the loss of just one influential player and the Zimbabwean being undermined by a stubborn refusal to concede that the AFCON finals, unlike playing Malawi and Swaziland, would be a different ball game, a different level altogether.

And having Saul Chaminuka as his trusted lieutenant, his go-to-guy when the going got tough, was as much a huge mistake as some of his election options like investing his trust in a player for a central defensive role whose confidence was at its lowest ebb after a season crippled by injuries.

But, he will always be a coach I respect because, after all my idol CMJ told me ,back in those days to always, always judge people you write about fairly.

TO GOD BE THE GLORY!

Come on Warriors!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Khamaldinhoooo0oooooooooooo!

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