“I had been around a long time and I thought I would like to have a rest, spend more time with my family and maybe get a bit more fun out of life. While you love football, it is a hard, relentless task which goes on and on like a river.”
Those words come from Bill Shankly’s autobiography and pertain to his resignation as Liverpool manager 50 years ago in July. Shankly, then 60, made his decision in the wake of the FA Cup final victory over Newcastle when, sitting down with a cup of tea and a couple of pies at Wembley Stadium, he felt not elated but simply “tired from all the years”.
Half a century on, the equivalent of Shankly’s shock resignation came, for a new generation of Reds fans, with Jürgen Klopp’s January announcement that he will depart this summer. “It is that I am, how can I say it, running out of energy,” explained the 56-year-old, even if he looked anything but that on the day of his youthful team’s League Cup final win over Chelsea.
Trends come and go, and technology carries us on into tomorrow, yet human connections remain vital. And in an era when the manager’s shelf life is ever shorter, the kind of deep connection forged by Klopp over nine years on Merseyside feels all the more precious. It calls to mind other examples of long-serving managers saying goodbye – and the timing of their departures. The legendary Auxerre coach Guy Roux ended his 44-year reign fresh from winning his fourth Coupe de France in 2005. “I’ve reflected for a few weeks on the moment to stop – before the decline, sooner rather than later,” said the then 66-year-old.
Not everyone gets their timing right. Brian Clough departed Nottingham Forest, at 58, upon their relegation from the top flight in 1993. Though he had won two League Cups in his later years at the City Ground, those two European Cup miracles were already gaining a sepia hue. Arsène Wenger, who bowed out at 68, won three league titles in his first seven seasons with Arsenal but none in the remaining 14 prior to his 2018 farewell. There were FA Cup successes and Champions League qualifications (vital to pay for a new stadium), yet the glory years had passed and fissures of supporter dissatisfaction had grown.
By contrast, Sir Alex Ferguson bowed out as a league champion with Manchester United aged 71. It is insightful to read his recollection, in his second autobiography, of his change of heart after prematurely announcing his retirement in 2001 when faced with the “psychological barrier” of turning 60. He quickly realised he had made an error and, to his dismay, saw how some of his players had “slackened off”.
“I had been around a long time and I thought I would like to have a rest, spend more time with my family and maybe get a bit more fun out of life. While you love football, it is a hard, relentless task which goes on and on like a river.”
Those words come from Bill Shankly’s autobiography and pertain to his resignation as Liverpool manager 50 years ago in July. Shankly, then 60, made his decision in the wake of the FA Cup final victory over Newcastle when, sitting down with a cup of tea and a couple of pies at Wembley Stadium, he felt not elated but simply “tired from all the years”.
Half a century on, the equivalent of Shankly’s shock resignation came, for a new generation of Reds fans, with Jürgen Klopp’s January announcement that he will depart this summer. “It is that I am, how can I say it, running out of energy,” explained the 56-year-old, even if he looked anything but that on the day of his youthful team’s League Cup final win over Chelsea.
Trends come and go, and technology carries us on into tomorrow, yet human connections remain vital. And in an era when the manager’s shelf life is ever shorter, the kind of deep connection forged by Klopp over nine years on Merseyside feels all the more precious. It calls to mind other examples of long-serving managers saying goodbye – and the timing of their departures. The legendary Auxerre coach Guy Roux ended his 44-year reign fresh from winning his fourth Coupe de France in 2005. “I’ve reflected for a few weeks on the moment to stop – before the decline, sooner rather than later,” said the then 66-year-old.
Not everyone gets their timing right. Brian Clough departed Nottingham Forest, at 58, upon their relegation from the top flight in 1993. Though he had won two League Cups in his later years at the City Ground, those two European Cup miracles were already gaining a sepia hue. Arsène Wenger, who bowed out at 68, won three league titles in his first seven seasons with Arsenal but none in the remaining 14 prior to his 2018 farewell. There were FA Cup successes and Champions League qualifications (vital to pay for a new stadium), yet the glory years had passed and fissures of supporter dissatisfaction had grown.
By contrast, Sir Alex Ferguson bowed out as a league champion with Manchester United aged 71. It is insightful to read his recollection, in his second autobiography, of his change of heart after prematurely announcing his retirement in 2001 when faced with the “psychological barrier” of turning 60. He quickly realised he had made an error and, to his dismay, saw how some of his players had “slackened off”.
It is equally interesting to read Sir Alex’s comments on the difficulties faced even by a man who won as much as he did. “There is a fear of failure in a manager the whole time and you are on your own a lot,” wrote the Scot, who clearly did not enjoy the “added complications brought on by agents, contracts, the mass media” towards the end of his career.
Managers today will tell you that those pressures have only increased in the decade since. In the Premier League, media commitments have more than doubled in that time, while social media has intensified the noise around the game. At big clubs, every fixture is not a match but an event, and the calendar is unrelenting. Though they have more staff, match preparation is more detailed amid the great flood of data. As Unai Emery has quipped, “These days, working in football requires plenty of time – I’d say 24 hours.”
It makes for an intriguing dichotomy. A 60-year-old today may seem younger and healthier in certain respects than one born in 1913 like Shankly, who spent two years of his youth working down a coal mine. There is more support available, but the pressure is greater and youthful energy can still help.
A football historian friend argues most managers have a peak period of a decade in their career; those working with a certain philosophy may not survive as football fashions alter. That said, the very best find ways to adapt. Carlo Ancelotti, 64, has never been wedded to a philosophy. Diego Simeone, now in his 14th year at the Atlético de Madrid helm, is all about finding ways to win.
Elsewhere in Spain, the news of Xavi Hernández’s decision to leave Barcelona this summer prompted Pep Guardiola to declare that “it’s a thousand times harder” at the Camp Nou. Xavi himself says of being coach there: “You fight everyday against everything and that wears you down. You can’t enjoy your daily life.” Little wonder that Guardiola needed a sabbatical after leaving in 2012.
Whether Klopp’s break is a sabbatical or something longer, only time will tell. Some managers return with a point to prove; others struggle to redirect their energy. Still today, Wenger admits “I miss the intensity,” and this leads us back to Shankly. After handing over the Liverpool reins, he would initially still turn up at Melwood each morning and jog around the pitch with his old players. Eventually, a phone call from the chairman stopped that habit. As a result, for several years Shankly would pop into Everton’s training ground, around the corner from his house, for a daily cup of tea and chat with the physio and groundsmen. We can safely predict that, in this aspect at least, Klopp will not be following in Shankly’s footsteps.
“I had been around a long time and I thought I would like to have a rest, spend more time with my family and maybe get a bit more fun out of life. While you love football, it is a hard, relentless task which goes on and on like a river.”
Those words come from Bill Shankly’s autobiography and pertain to his resignation as Liverpool manager 50 years ago in July. Shankly, then 60, made his decision in the wake of the FA Cup final victory over Newcastle when, sitting down with a cup of tea and a couple of pies at Wembley Stadium, he felt not elated but simply “tired from all the years”.
Half a century on, the equivalent of Shankly’s shock resignation came, for a new generation of Reds fans, with Jürgen Klopp’s January announcement that he will depart this summer. “It is that I am, how can I say it, running out of energy,” explained the 56-year-old, even if he looked anything but that on the day of his youthful team’s League Cup final win over Chelsea.
Trends come and go, and technology carries us on into tomorrow, yet human connections remain vital. And in an era when the manager’s shelf life is ever shorter, the kind of deep connection forged by Klopp over nine years on Merseyside feels all the more precious. It calls to mind other examples of long-serving managers saying goodbye – and the timing of their departures. The legendary Auxerre coach Guy Roux ended his 44-year reign fresh from winning his fourth Coupe de France in 2005. “I’ve reflected for a few weeks on the moment to stop – before the decline, sooner rather than later,” said the then 66-year-old.
Not everyone gets their timing right. Brian Clough departed Nottingham Forest, at 58, upon their relegation from the top flight in 1993. Though he had won two League Cups in his later years at the City Ground, those two European Cup miracles were already gaining a sepia hue. Arsène Wenger, who bowed out at 68, won three league titles in his first seven seasons with Arsenal but none in the remaining 14 prior to his 2018 farewell. There were FA Cup successes and Champions League qualifications (vital to pay for a new stadium), yet the glory years had passed and fissures of supporter dissatisfaction had grown.
By contrast, Sir Alex Ferguson bowed out as a league champion with Manchester United aged 71. It is insightful to read his recollection, in his second autobiography, of his change of heart after prematurely announcing his retirement in 2001 when faced with the “psychological barrier” of turning 60. He quickly realised he had made an error and, to his dismay, saw how some of his players had “slackened off”.
“I had been around a long time and I thought I would like to have a rest, spend more time with my family and maybe get a bit more fun out of life. While you love football, it is a hard, relentless task which goes on and on like a river.”
Those words come from Bill Shankly’s autobiography and pertain to his resignation as Liverpool manager 50 years ago in July. Shankly, then 60, made his decision in the wake of the FA Cup final victory over Newcastle when, sitting down with a cup of tea and a couple of pies at Wembley Stadium, he felt not elated but simply “tired from all the years”.
Half a century on, the equivalent of Shankly’s shock resignation came, for a new generation of Reds fans, with Jürgen Klopp’s January announcement that he will depart this summer. “It is that I am, how can I say it, running out of energy,” explained the 56-year-old, even if he looked anything but that on the day of his youthful team’s League Cup final win over Chelsea.
Trends come and go, and technology carries us on into tomorrow, yet human connections remain vital. And in an era when the manager’s shelf life is ever shorter, the kind of deep connection forged by Klopp over nine years on Merseyside feels all the more precious. It calls to mind other examples of long-serving managers saying goodbye – and the timing of their departures. The legendary Auxerre coach Guy Roux ended his 44-year reign fresh from winning his fourth Coupe de France in 2005. “I’ve reflected for a few weeks on the moment to stop – before the decline, sooner rather than later,” said the then 66-year-old.
Not everyone gets their timing right. Brian Clough departed Nottingham Forest, at 58, upon their relegation from the top flight in 1993. Though he had won two League Cups in his later years at the City Ground, those two European Cup miracles were already gaining a sepia hue. Arsène Wenger, who bowed out at 68, won three league titles in his first seven seasons with Arsenal but none in the remaining 14 prior to his 2018 farewell. There were FA Cup successes and Champions League qualifications (vital to pay for a new stadium), yet the glory years had passed and fissures of supporter dissatisfaction had grown.
By contrast, Sir Alex Ferguson bowed out as a league champion with Manchester United aged 71. It is insightful to read his recollection, in his second autobiography, of his change of heart after prematurely announcing his retirement in 2001 when faced with the “psychological barrier” of turning 60. He quickly realised he had made an error and, to his dismay, saw how some of his players had “slackened off”.
“I had been around a long time and I thought I would like to have a rest, spend more time with my family and maybe get a bit more fun out of life. While you love football, it is a hard, relentless task which goes on and on like a river.”
Those words come from Bill Shankly’s autobiography and pertain to his resignation as Liverpool manager 50 years ago in July. Shankly, then 60, made his decision in the wake of the FA Cup final victory over Newcastle when, sitting down with a cup of tea and a couple of pies at Wembley Stadium, he felt not elated but simply “tired from all the years”.
Half a century on, the equivalent of Shankly’s shock resignation came, for a new generation of Reds fans, with Jürgen Klopp’s January announcement that he will depart this summer. “It is that I am, how can I say it, running out of energy,” explained the 56-year-old, even if he looked anything but that on the day of his youthful team’s League Cup final win over Chelsea.
Trends come and go, and technology carries us on into tomorrow, yet human connections remain vital. And in an era when the manager’s shelf life is ever shorter, the kind of deep connection forged by Klopp over nine years on Merseyside feels all the more precious. It calls to mind other examples of long-serving managers saying goodbye – and the timing of their departures. The legendary Auxerre coach Guy Roux ended his 44-year reign fresh from winning his fourth Coupe de France in 2005. “I’ve reflected for a few weeks on the moment to stop – before the decline, sooner rather than later,” said the then 66-year-old.
Not everyone gets their timing right. Brian Clough departed Nottingham Forest, at 58, upon their relegation from the top flight in 1993. Though he had won two League Cups in his later years at the City Ground, those two European Cup miracles were already gaining a sepia hue. Arsène Wenger, who bowed out at 68, won three league titles in his first seven seasons with Arsenal but none in the remaining 14 prior to his 2018 farewell. There were FA Cup successes and Champions League qualifications (vital to pay for a new stadium), yet the glory years had passed and fissures of supporter dissatisfaction had grown.
By contrast, Sir Alex Ferguson bowed out as a league champion with Manchester United aged 71. It is insightful to read his recollection, in his second autobiography, of his change of heart after prematurely announcing his retirement in 2001 when faced with the “psychological barrier” of turning 60. He quickly realised he had made an error and, to his dismay, saw how some of his players had “slackened off”.
It is equally interesting to read Sir Alex’s comments on the difficulties faced even by a man who won as much as he did. “There is a fear of failure in a manager the whole time and you are on your own a lot,” wrote the Scot, who clearly did not enjoy the “added complications brought on by agents, contracts, the mass media” towards the end of his career.
Managers today will tell you that those pressures have only increased in the decade since. In the Premier League, media commitments have more than doubled in that time, while social media has intensified the noise around the game. At big clubs, every fixture is not a match but an event, and the calendar is unrelenting. Though they have more staff, match preparation is more detailed amid the great flood of data. As Unai Emery has quipped, “These days, working in football requires plenty of time – I’d say 24 hours.”
It makes for an intriguing dichotomy. A 60-year-old today may seem younger and healthier in certain respects than one born in 1913 like Shankly, who spent two years of his youth working down a coal mine. There is more support available, but the pressure is greater and youthful energy can still help.
A football historian friend argues most managers have a peak period of a decade in their career; those working with a certain philosophy may not survive as football fashions alter. That said, the very best find ways to adapt. Carlo Ancelotti, 64, has never been wedded to a philosophy. Diego Simeone, now in his 14th year at the Atlético de Madrid helm, is all about finding ways to win.
Elsewhere in Spain, the news of Xavi Hernández’s decision to leave Barcelona this summer prompted Pep Guardiola to declare that “it’s a thousand times harder” at the Camp Nou. Xavi himself says of being coach there: “You fight everyday against everything and that wears you down. You can’t enjoy your daily life.” Little wonder that Guardiola needed a sabbatical after leaving in 2012.
Whether Klopp’s break is a sabbatical or something longer, only time will tell. Some managers return with a point to prove; others struggle to redirect their energy. Still today, Wenger admits “I miss the intensity,” and this leads us back to Shankly. After handing over the Liverpool reins, he would initially still turn up at Melwood each morning and jog around the pitch with his old players. Eventually, a phone call from the chairman stopped that habit. As a result, for several years Shankly would pop into Everton’s training ground, around the corner from his house, for a daily cup of tea and chat with the physio and groundsmen. We can safely predict that, in this aspect at least, Klopp will not be following in Shankly’s footsteps.
“I had been around a long time and I thought I would like to have a rest, spend more time with my family and maybe get a bit more fun out of life. While you love football, it is a hard, relentless task which goes on and on like a river.”
Those words come from Bill Shankly’s autobiography and pertain to his resignation as Liverpool manager 50 years ago in July. Shankly, then 60, made his decision in the wake of the FA Cup final victory over Newcastle when, sitting down with a cup of tea and a couple of pies at Wembley Stadium, he felt not elated but simply “tired from all the years”.
Half a century on, the equivalent of Shankly’s shock resignation came, for a new generation of Reds fans, with Jürgen Klopp’s January announcement that he will depart this summer. “It is that I am, how can I say it, running out of energy,” explained the 56-year-old, even if he looked anything but that on the day of his youthful team’s League Cup final win over Chelsea.
Trends come and go, and technology carries us on into tomorrow, yet human connections remain vital. And in an era when the manager’s shelf life is ever shorter, the kind of deep connection forged by Klopp over nine years on Merseyside feels all the more precious. It calls to mind other examples of long-serving managers saying goodbye – and the timing of their departures. The legendary Auxerre coach Guy Roux ended his 44-year reign fresh from winning his fourth Coupe de France in 2005. “I’ve reflected for a few weeks on the moment to stop – before the decline, sooner rather than later,” said the then 66-year-old.
Not everyone gets their timing right. Brian Clough departed Nottingham Forest, at 58, upon their relegation from the top flight in 1993. Though he had won two League Cups in his later years at the City Ground, those two European Cup miracles were already gaining a sepia hue. Arsène Wenger, who bowed out at 68, won three league titles in his first seven seasons with Arsenal but none in the remaining 14 prior to his 2018 farewell. There were FA Cup successes and Champions League qualifications (vital to pay for a new stadium), yet the glory years had passed and fissures of supporter dissatisfaction had grown.
By contrast, Sir Alex Ferguson bowed out as a league champion with Manchester United aged 71. It is insightful to read his recollection, in his second autobiography, of his change of heart after prematurely announcing his retirement in 2001 when faced with the “psychological barrier” of turning 60. He quickly realised he had made an error and, to his dismay, saw how some of his players had “slackened off”.
