Finding a way

I love coaching. 

My dad was a coach back in Australia and I started coaching very young. I did a prelim badge when I was in Brentford’s youth team, in 1993. That first coaching course was led by the Crystal Palace coach, Alan Smith. It ignited everything for me.

I grew up in an Australian city named Newcastle, a street away from the beach. By the age of 15 I was playing against senior men, sometimes full internationals. I wasn’t the tallest, but I was a hell of a fighter and a skilful, technical player.

I came to England with an Australian representative team when I was 16, and a Brentford scout spotted me in a match against Tottenham. They offered me a deal, but my parents wanted me to come back and finish school. I had to wait 12 months until I joined Brentford as an apprentice. 

But that was it. I was besotted by football and went on to forge a playing career that spanned two decades. The highlight was my time at Rushden & Diamonds (above), where I played 166 games, winning promotion to the Football League and reaching the Third Division playoff final the following season. I worked hard to make it as a player in England, and that experience made me well-rounded and adaptable.

I never planned to be a manager, but I was always a good organiser. When I was 28, I started my own coaching business, so I could support myself and my family after my playing days were over.

I started off with one coach and built it up to 32. We coached kids in schools, holiday camps, Saturday morning clubs and advanced centres, throughout Northamptonshire and Milton Keynes. 

"I felt we breathed life into that group – and they breathed life into me"

In 2008, I was playing at Kettering and decided I would hang up my boots and concentrate on my business. I was always being approached to take on roles in football, though. That Christmas, I got a call asking if I could play three games to help out a local Northamptonshire team, Brackley Town, who were in the Southern Football League. I was such an organiser on the pitch that the manager asked me to take over!

I managed Brackley for six and a half years, taking them to the Conference North and the FA Cup second round for the first time. Soon after I finished there, I was asked to do the Under-16s at Northampton. I wasn’t too sure, but I said I’d train the lads for two weeks. I built a connection with them, so I took the role on. Typical me.

A year later, Justin Edinburgh was the manager and asked me to take on the Under-18s full-time. He was persistent, and I didn’t want to let him down. I adapted my business so I could still run it and do the youth team – that lasted for four and a half years.

Then the call came. In February 2021, the first team were second bottom of League One, adrift after 26 games. Keith Curle was sacked and I was asked to take over. I said I’d do it for a couple of games, as long as I could go back to my youth-team job. They asked me to stay on for a couple more games, and then to the end of the season.

Although we didn’t stay up, we pushed it close and I was offered the job on a permanent basis. I had taken over a group I was told were dead on their feet and would be lucky to get another point, but I felt we breathed life into that group – and they breathed life into me. I’d come alive again in that senior environment, bouncing off the players’ energy. It was now or never, so I took the now.

I wanted to know what the players could do, not what they couldn’t do, and I resolved to treat them like human beings. When I was a first-year pro at Swansea, I got punched pretty hard in a reserve game by a manager. It shocked me and I thought I would never, ever treat people that way.

"Rovers needed a five-goal swing. Minute after minute, the goals were coming, and I just knew. I knew" 

I wanted to improve the players as human beings on and off the pitch, as well as technically and tactically. And I asked myself, how can my coaching staff and I connect them as a team?

One way is to dearmour them. Players walk into a changing room with these big peacock feathers, but I try to be authentic, to be myself. If I can be me, I want them to be their authentic selves too. 

Recently, we did a ‘Three Hs’ exercise. Each player had to talk for five minutes about the hero, the highlight and the heartbreak in their life. Some of the stories were tragic, some of the stories were motivational, but it was all about telling their story. They took their armour off and connected. When you sit in a changing room, you might not speak to that guy over there – but if you know their story, you can see a bit through their lens. I feel that is important. 

The day after the last match of the 2020/21 season, I got to work. I recruited a recruiter, Martin Foyle, and set out how I wanted to play. I put together player profiles with six things I wanted from each position, including two non-negotiables.

And I was huge on leadership. The army did a three-day leadership programme for us. The first day, the players' beds were flipped at 6am by a big Fijian guy who was about 6ft 8ins, and we had to walk for eight miles. I thought I’d lost the players for a moment, but the programme knitted the group together.

Going into the final game of the 2021/22 season, we were set for automatic promotion unless Bristol Rovers bettered our result, or won by five goals more. We went three up at Barrow inside 23 minutes. Although we conceded just before half-time and Bristol Rovers went 2-0 up, they still needed that five-goal swing in the second half. I heard some murmurings from the crowd, and my assistant Marc Richards told me: “Mate, it’s 4-0.” Then five. Minute after minute, the goals were coming, and I just knew. I knew.

"I felt we had something magical around us, looked over by people who gave us power and strength"

The following pre-season, we asked the players to come back and tell us where they felt they could finish. They said top three, so we pinpointed statistically what was needed to achieve it. For example, in the previous campaign we’d only got two points coming from behind. We went on to get the most points in the whole of the EFL from losing positions.

Tactically, we were flexible in our shape and often found a way by being adaptable. Could we nullify any opposition threats? Could we exploit any weaknesses? A lot of the time we’d start with a certain shape and then find a different solution, but our principles remained the same. 

Sam Hoskins was our talisman. My first full season as manager had seen his best goal return in 11 seasons as a pro, with 13. As we pushed for promotion again, he scored 22. I did a lot of work with Sam on arriving in the box and getting more touches there. When I first took over, he divided opinion among the fans. Now people wanted a statue of him outside the ground. 

Sadly, the human element of our coaching approach became a major part of our 2022/23 campaign when my goalkeeping coach, James Alger, lost his wife suddenly. Bloody hell, that was tough. James has been a friend for many years, so it was very personal.

We had to play away at Crawley just after we got the news, and I’m 1,000 per cent sure James’ wife had something to do with what happened in that game. We weren’t the best, they scored first, then Sam equalised and held up a shirt to pay tribute to James and his wife. It went to 2-2, and young Kieron Bowie scored a winner for us with virtually the last kick of the game.

Then at Christmas, my assistant Colin Calderwood was up in Scotland for close to a month with his dad, who was quite unwell before sadly passing away. As the season progressed, I felt that we had something magical around us – that we were looked over by people who gave us power and strength.

"We were fourth in the table and I was offering guys minimum wage"

We needed that, because we had to cope with a lot of adversity. From the start of the season until Christmas, we had on average five to six first-teamers out per game. After, Christmas, that became 10 to 11. 

I had to bring in Max Dyche, a first-year pro who’d only played Conference North level before that. David Norman from Canada was scratching around looking for a club. I looked on Wyscout but couldn’t connect the Canadian league to what it’s like in League Two – only that I’d seen a couple of players from that league try to play in League Two and not quite do it. And Paul Osew was released by AFC Wimbledon. At that point, we were fourth in the table and I was offering these guys minimum wage. They took the opportunity. Without them, we weren’t getting over the line. 

In April we went to Carlisle, and I had a back three of Norman, Jon Guthrie and Jack Sowerby. Norman hadn’t played for six months prior to making his debut five days earlier, Sowerby is a 5ft 9ins holding midfielder who’d never played centre-half, and 20 minutes in Guthrie’s hamstring went.

I didn’t have a recognised centre-half on the bench, so Guthrie said: “Gaffer, I’ll stand here, bring the two centre-halves either side and get to half-time.” Then he played the second half, although he couldn’t move and couldn’t do anything on his left. Afterwards, we found out he had a grade three hamstring tear. Something special was happening that he got away with carrying on.

Two days later, Sam Sherring and Max Dyche were back on the grass – five weeks into two-month rehabs for rolled ankles. I was prepping the team for a match at Sutton the next day, with a back line of Norman, Sowerby and attacking midfielder Shaun McWilliams!

Sherring is a young centre-half we’d got from Bournemouth. He told me he would play at Sutton, one of the most physical teams in League Two. “I have a duty of care for you,” I told him. “I can’t let you do it.” But he was adamant – and Dyche insisted he could play, too. 

"You can't take liberties in football, but we had with the team we put out"

At Sutton, Sowerby pulled his hamstring after 20 minutes, so I put Dyche on. Within little more than five minutes, he flicked on a long throw-in and Louis Appéré scored. Sutton came back to 1-1, but early in the second half we got a second. Hoskins, our top scorer, was playing right wing-back because we had had to change shape; he went on the counter-attack, put a cross in and Mitch Pinnock scored (below).

With 20 minutes to go, Norman – who’d played three games in nine days after none in six months – was wobbling. McWilliams had to play centre-back for the first time, but we defended for our lives and saw the game out, 2-1. You can’t take liberties in football, but we had with the team we put out. We were organised, but it was still incredible.

A win in our penultimate game would secure automatic promotion. It was 1-1 at home against Bradford, and we were banging on the door. Then they got an innocuous free-kick, last kick of the game. Bang! Romoney Crichlow-Noble heads it in, 2-1. Body blow.

So it went to the last day. Again. This time, we needed a win at Tranmere. Anything less and Stockport – at home to already relegated Hartlepool – could condemn us to the playoffs. I sent the team out really positive, and Hoskins scored an incredible goal to put us ahead within five minutes.

Later in the first half, though, our left-back Ryan Haynes went down with a bad injury. Osew had to come on, and he’d only played 30 minutes since joining us. 

"I wanted us to do things right, especially after what happened the year before"

I didn’t really want to know what was going on at Stockport, but on the bench they told me they had a late penalty. I tried to exude calmness, but my head was in turmoil, thinking it could turn on a sixpence. But the penalty was saved, and when our fans heard that the Stockport game had finished they wanted to run on the pitch. I ordered them to get off.

Later, I saw Jeff Stelling had a joke on Sky about the way I did it – but I wanted us to do things right, especially after what had happened the year before. Then the whistle blew, and we’d done it.

You get asked by every other manager: “Are you enjoying it?” Not many of them come back with a real positive, but you have to try to enjoy it. If you don’t, you’re going to come out very bitter.

You’ve got to thrive on that pressure. My happiest time has been on that touchline. I feel free, I feel relaxed, and I enjoy watching my team play. I live for that, really.