Robbo for England!

By the BBC’s Derek ’Robbo’ Robson. 

The speculation is rife in the Blue Bell. Who’s going to fill the shoes of Steve Mclaren

Not that he didn’t fill them and everything else he was wearing last Wednesday when Carson waved the Croat’s first past.

Capello could be grabbed right away, but is he tarnished by the Juve experience? And is he ready to work with British numbskulls?

Benitez seems to be packing his bags, but could he resist a rotation or several? And frankly, I don’t understand Rafa.

Harry Redknapp could do a job, but could you look at them forlorn chops if things, much like his own comely visage, started to fall apart?

O’Neill’s ruled himself out, Klinsmann might listen to offers and must have been impressed with Bentley’s swallow-dive at Fulham yesterday.

Shearer? It’s got to be a bit cosier in that studio than it is under an umbrella in the pouring rain.

Mourinho? Yes, of course, especially if the FA gets sacked and replaced by a bunch of ladies.
Anyway, so we’re chewing all this over when Tony Thompson, five pints down but still coherent said what all drunks say at a moment like this. ‘All right, Robbo, if you’re so bleeding clever, you do it!’

Yep. ME.

Now before you all say you’re not taking this seriously, Robbo, let’s look at the evidence.

I’ve got no experience. This brings a fresh perspective. You know, ‘no fear’ and all that.

I’ve never won owt as a coach, but that didn’t stop Keegan, Taylor and Hoddle.

I’m from Teesside so I won’t take no s***, and I won’t be in a hurry to go back there either.

The name’s Robson which worked OK in 1990.

I’m English.
I’m cheap.
I’d be honoured.

So let’s go for it, eh? Here’s my manifesto pledges. I admit it’s unlikely I’ll get the post so these commitments will have all the sincerity that the Lib Dems can afford to give.

Big fish who outgrew Norway’s small pool

By the Times’s Gabriele Marcotti. Despite not having played professional football, he is in my opinion one of the best football pundits around unlike most of the other guys around who weren’t very good players and certainly aren’t very good analysts.

For a while they were the epitome of Champions League longevity. Which is remarkable when one considers who they are and where they come from. Rosenborg, the Norwegian champions who face Chelsea on Wednesday, hail from Trondheim, a city with a population of a shade more than 150,000 and a ground, the Lerkendal, holding nearly 22,000.

The money men did not have Rosenborg in mind when the Champions League concept was hatched in the early 1990s, yet they reeled off 13 domestic titles between 1992 and 2004. Perhaps more impressively, they qualified for the Champions League proper on eight consecutive occasions, a record that stood until 2004 (and it took none other than Manchester United to surpass them).

Their presence made a comparatively small club familiar to a far wide audience. Along the way came plenty of highlights, including victories away to AC Milan and Borussia Dortmund, as well as a 2-0 win over a Real Madrid team who went on to win the European crown in 1998. And then there are their feats from this season: holding Chelsea to a draw at Stamford Bridge and beating Valencia at home and away.

When I think back to those teams, my mind is filled with images of a bunch of white-clad, unshaven giants (with the exception of the 5ft 6in Jahn “Mini” Jakobsen), most with unkempt hair. They had names like Erik, Bent, Frode, Vidar and, most memorably, Roar, as in Strand, who is in his thirteenth season at the club.

Such sustained success is remarkable, not least because when clubs of Rosenborg’s stature make a splash on the European scene, bigger clubs normally raid their squad. And yet this has not happened to any significant degree. Some, such as John Carew and Vegard Heggem, did move on. Others, such as Harald Brattbakk, left twice only to return shortly afterwards both times. Most, like Strand, stuck around for the ride, forsaking higher wages and greater exposure elsewhere.

Conventional wisdom cites two key factors behind Rosenborg’s success. The first is Nils Arne Eggen, the long-time manager. He was in charge from 1988-2002 (with a year’s sabbatical in 1998) and has twice returned as a special adviser. Eggen is one of those monumental figures who often surface in football’s provinces – think of Guy Roux at Auxerre. He was a creative thinker and a sterling man-manager.

His unorthodox 4-3-3 formation, which often featured wingers the size of target men, and his sudden counter-attacking surges are the stuff of tactical legend. Man for man, most of the players who have pulled on a Rosenborg shirt over the years have been unremarkable in terms of ability. Yet there they were, fighting on equal terms with Europe’s giants.

Rosenborg won a further two domestic titles after Eggen’s departure, but there were signs that things were not right and, in 2005, they finished in mid-table. They won the title again in 2006, albeit after a turbulent season during which they had three managers. Despite their Champions League success, this year was again disappointing domestically: another managerial change and a fifth-place finish.

Eggen has loomed in the background, but at 66 he has no interest in a full-time role. The highly respected Trond Sollied is expected to take over next year and that may be Rosenborg’s best hope of moving forward.