We haven't reached the end of August and yet the sword of Damocles is already hanging over the heads of several managers in British football. Traditionally, troubled Premier League clubs wait until the international break in November to make changes in the dugout; this time, it may be the first international break of the season instead.
If there's one saga which comes with a grain of sympathy, it's Nuno Espirito Santo's. Albeit hardly blameless having washed Nottingham Forest's dirty laundry in public, it's clear the circumstances around him have changed since finishing seventh last season, and he's no longer happy with them. That disillusionment could cost him his job.
Manchester United and Rangers Struggle
For Ruben Amorim at Manchester United and Russell Martin at Rangers, however, it's a lot more difficult to emphathise. They have both under-delivered on results, in Amorim's case for a significant period of time, they have refused to compromise, and they have tried to diminish their own responsibility by throwing players under the bus.
Russell Martin
But Amorim and Martin aren't isolated cases; there is a breed of manager in modern football who serve themselves before their clubs, by favouring personal virtues over collective results. And they all follow a pretty typical pattern.
The immediate distinguishable characteristic is the dress code. A simple smart suit or a training-ground tracksuit won't do; they must have an edgy element to their wardrobe, whether that's a relaxed silhouette, a plain white or black t-shirt with a suit jacket, or trainers with chinos, while their haircuts must somehow trigger reminiscence of the 1990s.
Meanwhile, the first thing that comes out of their mouths is always 'refreshing honesty', the kind of honesty appreciated by aging boomers who think footballers are too soft, too overpaid and too woke. Indeed, what footballers really need is someone to completely demoralise them with character assassinations in front of the baying media whenever they don't win 5-0.
And the most notable trend on the pitch is a religious belief in their own way of playing football, to the point of being completely inflexible to formational, structural or stylistic changes. Their philosophy is the absolute, unquestionable, best and only way of playing football. If you can't win while trying to play it, then it's time for some more of that refreshing honesty.
Martin Insists on Possession and Amorim Won't Change 3-4-2-1
ruben amorim-1
We have seen that cycle play out already this season. 10 games into his Rangers spell, Martin has already criticised his entire squad for a weakness in mentality, and named and shamed a player for apparently refusing to be subbed on, all the while employing the same brand of football that got Southampton hopelessly relegated last season and has already cost the Gers their place in this term's Champions League.
Likewise, Amorim has remained adamant that 3-4-2-1 is the ideal way to play football; a formation that no top team in the world currently use as their exclusive formation and that United don't have the personnel in midfield to effectively play. Even a defeat to Grimsby in the League Cup hasn't lead to suggestions of a change in setup; instead, Amorim has admitted with 'refreshing honesty' that he sometimes 'hates his players' and 'wants to quit' a job that ultimately appears a little too large for him.
Those thoughts are normal considering the situation United are in; it's clear not all of his ideas are rubbing off on the players, and thus a degree of frustration with the current situation is inevitable. But there is a bizarre obsession from both Amorim and Martin to transmit that information to external sources, despite its obvious potential to cause damage.
Because it's easy to be 'refreshingly honest' all the time; we all have the potential to tell everyone in our lives, from our bosses and our friends, to our partners and our children, exactly what we think of them, what we think of mutual acquaintances, what we think of our jobs, our hobbies, the paths our lives have taken. We can lay every intrusive thought out on the table, and I'm sure the freedom of doing that would feel incredibly freeing.
But there is a reason people don't. Those harsher thoughts and feelings can cause harm to others, and when they are publicly aired, they can be humiliating. Much harder than refreshing honesty is holding onto those thoughts and feelings in order to protect people, and to have the situational awareness to decide when and how to broadcast them, and to whom. That is the art of good communication, and that is a fundamental skill of a manager. It's not about black-and-white honesty; it's about good judgment.
Pep Guardiola and Carlo Ancelotti Adapt
Carlo Ancelotti and Pep Guardiola outside the Santiago Bernabeu
The same applies to tactical stubbornness. Even Pep Guardiola modifies his tactics based on the players he's working with and the league he's in. His title-winning teams at Barcelona, Bayern Munich and Manchester City all had obvious similarities, but they also had significant differences. There's game-to-game modifications based on opponent, too.
And then there's Carlo Ancelotti, perhaps the greatest actual 'manager' in football history. Not married to any specific philosophy or ideals, he has won every major European top flight across three different decades, often with little to no say over the players he'd be working with. He has used every formation from 3-5-2 to 4-3-3 and has always adapted to the squad and situation he's working in.
Failing Upwards Could be Coming to an End
Burnley boss Vincent Kompany watching on from the touchline
Amorim and Martin are young managers, the former being the oldest at 40, and it's perhaps it's the radicalism of relative youth that makes them so naively tied to specific ways of managing. Or perhaps it's because there is a curious trend in modern football of refreshingly honest, tactically stubborn managers failing upwards.
Vincent Kompany is the most classic example; his insistence upon possession-based football was a decisive factor in Burnley finishing the 2023/24 Premier League season with just 24 points - two less than now-League 1 side Luton Town. But while the Clarets found themselves dumped into the second-tier of English football, the former Manchester City defender took a job at Bayern Munich.
Martin's career doesn't follow as sharp a trajectory, but his reward for Southampton's relegation was a chance at Rangers, a club that could've been in the Champions League had he not overseen a 9-1 aggregate humiliation against Club Brugge.
In spite of those results, the combination of tactical stubbornness and refreshing honesty creates a narrative that those managers could be doing wonders at bigger clubs with better players, and paradoxically, the worse the results, the more people seem to buy into it. For Kompany, that theory has worked out, with Bayern winning the Bundesliga last season. But there are examples to suggest people are no longer falling for it.
Tottenham outsed Ange Postecoglou last season for a far more pragmatic manager in Thomas Frank, while Martin appears to have little friends left up in Glasgow, and time is running out for Amorim to turn things around at Old Trafford.
Perhaps we're all starting to remember that the art of management isn't insisting upon a strict set of non-negotiable rules and applying black-and-white thinking to every scenario; it's about adapting your beliefs to the situation and finding ways of making things work, communicating effectively both internally and externally, and most importantly, good judgment.
Martin and Amorim have lacked that so far this season, and it may soon cost them their jobs.