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Guest MattP

I don’t know how much I earn. My motivation is my love of football, says Ranieri.

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Posted

Nice interview with Matthew Syed in The Times.

 

http://www.thetimes.co.uk/edition/sport/i-dont-know-how-much-i-earn-my-motivation-is-my-love-of-football-says-ranieri-trv39w520

Quote

 

May 2, 2016 will always be remembered as one of the most magical nights in the history of sport. This was not a one-off victory of an underdog in a cup competition, or the sucker punch of a no-hope boxer.

 

No, this was a club – whose entire turnover was less than Manchester United’s kit sponsorship, who had never won a major trophy in their 132-year history, whose starting XI cost a quarter of the transfer fee of Paul Pogba, who had been on the verge of relegation months earlier – triumphing in the ruthless 38-game round-robin meritocracy of the richest league on the planet.

 

When the final whistle blew between Chelsea and Tottenham Hotspur (Chelsea scored twice in the second half to draw), handing Leicester City the title, the nation went into meltdown. Twitter traffic soared by 86 per cent. People poured through the streets towards the King Power Stadium. The Raw Dykes Road and Aylestone Road were turned, as the football writer Jonathan Northcroft put it in his memoir of the season, into “the world’s happiest traffic jam”.

 

At Jamie Vardy’s house in Melton Mowbray, a crowd of about 3,000 gathered outside, aware that the squad were watching the match on a flat-screen television inside. The players were celebrating deliriously, the scenes captured on the phone of Christian Fuchs, and beamed around the world. Such was the pandemonium that the TV was broken in the mêlée.

 

Some distance away, however, a very different scene was unfolding. At his home, Claudio Ranieri was watching the television with Rosanna, his wife of 40 years. When the whistle blew for full-time, did they dance? Did they party? Did they sing? Perhaps the most remarkable coda to that startling night is that they did none of these things. “Nothing,” is the way Ranieri tells it when we meet at the Leicester training ground on Belvoir Drive, his wizened face crumpling into a smile of a thousand lines.

 

“You don’t believe me? I was at home, with my wife and two Italian assistants. When the match finished, my assistants went home and me and my wife sat there watching the television. We stayed out of the celebrations of the players, of the city, we were not involved at all. We are the champions and we stayed home. And the next day our friends said to us: ‘How did you celebrate?’ And we said: ‘We went to sleep and nothing more.’ ”

He notices my look of surprise. “We are very strange,” he says simply. “When, as a young man, I led Cagliari to the Serie C title [he would eventually take them all the way to Serie A], all the city was celebrating. But I never go to celebrations. I am always on the outside. That day, my little daughter was five years old. I put on some sunglasses, put my daughter on my shoulders, so I could watch people celebrate. I like to stand at a distance. It is strange. I am feeling joy. I am happy. But it is difficult to show emotions … I left after one hour because somebody recognised me, so I went home.”

 

On the surface, Ranieri is warm and avuncular, but there is depth and complexity too. If he is so skilled at concealing his emotions after victory (a rather British trait, it has to be said), I wonder, what about when he loses? He smiles again. “It’s unbelievable. When we lose, after the match, I go home and immediately I sleep … My eyes just close. If you kill me, blood doesn’t come out because I am so very sad with the players … Actually, it’s not so much when we lose. I don’t mind if we lose when the players fight. When we lost against Arsenal last season [Arsenal scored in the last minute of stoppage time], we played fantastic. It wasn’t important that we lost. I said: ‘Don’t worry, keep going this way’… No what I can’t take is when the players don’t fight together, pull together, give it everything. That kills me.”

 

This imperative of determination, of collective commitment, becomes the dominant theme in the conversation. It is, he says, the essence not merely of football, but of life. “I like movies with strength,” he says. “Gladiator, Braveheart, where they link together, where the group stays together in battle … In football, when 11 players fight together and help each other, they are difficult to beat. Most teams, only seven or eight have this attitude … It was fantastic when [Riyad] Mahrez or [Shinji] Okazaki would come back to help their team-mates last season. I said to them: ‘When we attack you are free to go, but it is important that someone goes back. It doesn’t matter who. But we have to protect the castle.’ ”

 

The cohesion of Leicester last season was a beautiful thing to behold. It seemed as if they were knit together by an invisible force. How, I wonder, do you build such spirit in a group of disparate professionals? “When I arrived at Leicester, I just watched,” he says. “I don’t need to change things for the sake of it … It is my character, my spirit to say: ‘Show me.’ The team worked so well that I changed very little. I brought my assistants, but I kept the staff who were already here … Sometimes people show their authority by changing a lot. I don’t need to change when things are already working … This gave the players confidence.”

 

He also talks about combating the fear that so often holds players back, particularly when the pressure intensifies, as it did for Leicester in the final third of the season. “When we got closer to the goal, I watched the players to see how they reacted. In tennis when you approach match point, your arm can get stiff. It could have been the same with us … I said to the players: ‘This is the year. This year, never more. No regrets [he is banging the table now]. If you lose, you lose, but we have to believe… It’s not important if you make mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes. I make mistakes… But you have to try.’ ”

 

One is reminded of the words of Chris Coleman moments after Wales soared into the semi-final of the Euros. “If you work hard enough and you’re not afraid to dream and you’re not afraid to fail,” he said. “Everybody fails. Don’t be afraid to fail. I’ve had more failures than successes, but I’m not afraid to fail.”

 

Ranieri is in full flow, now, as if pouring out his philosophy. He moves on to the vexed issue of money: being motivated solely by money, being envious when others earn more. He thinks it is a problem in football. “Inside of the human character, every person is different,” he says. “My motivation is not money. Believe me. The money can stop now. My motivation is my love of football, my love of players. To try to do the best … I don’t remember how much I earn every year. I don’t go every day to train my players because I earn money. I go on the pitch because I am a lucky man … and I am doing what I always wanted to do.

 

“How many great champions earn a lot of money [enough to live in comfort for ever], but continue to fight, continue to win. It’s not the money. It’s the passion; it’s the love. It’s the ambition. That’s it. I meet so many players with a lot of skill and they make good money for one or two years and then they go down. Down! Why? Because they are only about the money, to be famous. That is not where the strength of man comes from.”

 

His energy is infectious, his humanity transparent. I am gaining the impression of a man bereft of ego, who seeks to inspire through persuasion rather than force, whose concept of leadership is about enriching others rather than belittling them. He can crack the whip when necessary — he famously marched into the hotel room of Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink and yanked out the TV cable, worried his star striker was staying up too late — but this is a last resort. His approach tallies with much modern psychology and contrasts with the dictatorial sergeant major act that so many managers, of first and youth teams, seem to revel in.

 

It is no surprise that the job he hates most is selection. “It’s not easy,” he says. “Of course, I am very sad every time I have to choose the first XI and put someone on the bench and someone in the stands, because when you have a fantastic group who work so hard, and deserve to play, you don’t want to choose. But you have to do this … It is part of your job.”

 

This season has, so far, been mixed. Some have pointed to the loss of N’Golo Kanté to Chelsea; others argue that rival teams have become wise to the counterattacking tactics that Leicester deployed to such devastating effect last season. There is also the sense that you cannot expect a miracle to continue indefinitely. But it would be wrong to say that Leicester are fizzling out. They are still punching above their weight, not least in the Champions League where they have played three, won three.

 

Whatever happens this season, however, nothing can overshadow the miracle of 2015-16, when a small club in the east Midlands shook up the world. “When I came, I felt electricity in this place. The owner is fantastic. I gave the energy to the players. They gave the energy back to me. Slowly, slowly they were getting better. Slowly, slowly they believed more in my words. Something magic happened. I gave love to them, and they gave love to me.”

 

I wonder if there has been a moment since that subdued night on May 2 when the enormity of what he and his team achieved has caught up with him. He smiles and his eyes finally begin to water. “I received a football management award in Italy,” he says. “They showed what we did on a big screen. The highlights of the season. And I cried. I cried. And I said: “Ooh f***ing hell. What we did … What we did!’ ”

 

 

Posted

The idea of Claudio walking around effing and jeffing amuses me no end.

 

 

 

 

Posted

I don't think it will ever sink in. I still laugh when i catch radio stories reference Leicester being Champions. Surreal.

 

Claudio can do no wrong as far as i'm concerned. What a man :wub:

Posted
2 minutes ago, Tuna said:

The idea of Claudio walking around effing and jeffing amuses me no end.

Love his nickname for Vardy.

 

"You are always talking, you are like a radio. You are a radio w@nker!" lol 

Posted

this man should never be sacked regardless of the players performance.

Posted
6 minutes ago, lgfualol said:

I feel teary eyed when I think back to that night we won it. Don't know if it will ever stop. Good times. 

 

 

 

I went to that Foxes exhibition at New Walk Museum and there was a video playing of when the Hazard goal went in and then scenes of the celebrations in the streets of Leicester - it choked me up again there and then. 

 

Such a brilliant memory.

Posted
1 hour ago, Larry_LCFC said:

Easy to say you don't know or care about how much you earn when you know you are earning an obscene amount. 

You'd think so, but that's not the attitude most players have sadly.

It's always more, more, more.

Posted

he probably has learned to appreciate football and life after all the ups and downs from being disgaurded by Chelsea and other clubs to the shambles of managing Greece to all of a sudden at the very top with Leicester city.

Posted

what a time to be alive when you don't even know how much you get paid because you get paid so much 

Posted

I struggle to imagine his lack of 'celebration' on that night, just like it happens every day.

 

Would have loved to see his reaction if we were playing that night, I'm sure he wouldn't have been as casual about the whole thing.

Guest Lako42
Posted
34 minutes ago, Dr The Singh said:

I wish I was that alive!!

If money is what makes you feel alive then you are already dead my friend.

Posted
27 minutes ago, Ted Maul said:

What an honour it is to have this bloke managing our club.

It's much better and refreshing for the league to have him, and Klopp + Wenger, to have someone who is respectful and caring than the miserable likes of Mourinho, Moyes and Pochettino.

Posted

I don't think that it will ever sink in.

 

I'm just loving the idea that in 20 years time a random tv advert will come on advertising a 'you won't believe this' documentary on how a bunch of nobodies turned the sporting world on its head by achieving the impossible.

 

we will be enjoying this long after that though!

Guest Lako42
Posted
1 hour ago, Ted Maul said:

What an honour it is to have this bloke managing our club.

Yep, shame its only took a few away defeats for people to turn on him.

Posted
4 minutes ago, Lako42 said:

Yep, shame its only took a few away defeats for people to turn on him.

I think it's just the frustration surrounding the manner of the defeats- they were pretty pathetic at times, but I'm not sure many genuinely turned on him.

 

These 'conserve our energy for the CL', 'sacrifice the 3 points in games we may have lost anyway' tactics may turn out to be a masterstroke. We have done okay in the games we are expected to win, and could be in the last 16 of the CL this time next week. If we can fully focus on the league between Nov-Dec, we have a lot of very winnable games in that time. We could quite easily go on a run and be in European contention by Christmas, and everyone will see the logic in throwing the difficult games.

Posted

Everything this man does is thoughtful and sincere, and that certainly comes through in the interview.

 

The day of the PSG friendly, my brother and I saw him sitting by himself and typing away on two phones in the club's hotel lobby in Santa Monica. We approached him and thanked him; he looked at us for a few seconds and said, "Thank YOU!" We had a pleasant chat, took a few photos and wished each other well. Proud to have him as our manager, and if a Ranieri statue is ever unveiled outside the King Power, I'm flying over for sure. Haha

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