Rafael Benítez: Still Hanging On

No-one ever said being a football manager was easy nowadays—trying to massage the egos of all those highly paid professionals (or should that be prima donnas?) while working within budget constraints drawn up by chief executives terrified by the credit crunch.

Then having to meet all the expectations, realistic and otherwise, of the fans and the media and owners who firmly believe that, since they've poured in millions of pounds, dollars, rubles or dirhams, they're entitled to win trophies.

But anyone out there who is thinking that it might be a good way of earning a living should take a long, hard look at Rafa Benítez before they put their letter of application in the post.   

Find a photograph of Rafa when, as a fresh faced 44-year-old, he joined Liverpool from Valencia.   Then take a look at the current images in the press and try to convince yourself that only 5 years have passed!

It's not as if he could be labeled a failure, even—only by Manchester United fans eager to point out that his team still haven't won the league title since 1990.   

Champions' League winners, memorably, in Istanbul in 2005; finalists as well; and then an FA Cup, European Super Cup and runners up in the Carling Cup.   

It might not exactly be a return to the Glory Years of Shankly, Paisley, Fagan and Dalglish but it's still better than every other club in the country—well, almost every other club.

Poor Rafa must sometimes wish he'd never left Tenerife or Valencia, where his successes were, and still are, treasured and the man himself is revered.  He certainly must often think of the equivalent phrase in Spanish to 'be careful what you wish for'.   

After all, when his American owners came in waving their 'You'll Never Walk Alone' scarves and promising the earth, he must have thought that the great days were just a transfer or two away.    Instead, he's left to wistfully quote the words of the Liverpool anthem at a Press Conference before the away Champions League fixture in Lyons—clutching at the words in desperation.

For such a patently decent man, Rafael Benítez has had some woeful luck.    His transfer dealings have often been criticized when, in reality, they're no worse than any other manager's.  

It would be interesting—and fun for neutrals—to make up a team of Rafa's worst signings and pitch it against Sir Alex's disasters.   

And he really could have done that with Spain not winning the European Championships so that they subsequently took part in that nonsense competition in South Africa in the summer.    Torres then might have had the rest his body was needed and returned fresh for this season.     At least he can console himself with the thought that he won't be losing too many to the African Nations' Cup in the New Year.

If I am coming across here as too much of an apologist for Benítez, then so be it. I know he has made bad judgments—selling Crouch and not properly replacing him; not finding a natural successor to Sami Hyypia early enough; trying to play mind games with the acknowledged master, for example.    

But he is a 'football man' through and through.

As a fledgling manager, he took a year's sabbatical to study coaching methods in England and Italy before taking the job at Tenerife, where he immediately guided the Canary Island team into La Liga. He also landed Valencia's first league title for 31 years in 2002.

Thankfully, the majority of Liverpool fans still think they have the right man for the job and continue to give him their total support.   

I have no doubt whatsoever that, if the problems off the field are properly addressed, he could deliver to Liverpool the title just as he did to Valencia—if he can hang on.

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