Always Managing: My Autobiography

Always Managing: My Autobiography

Harry Redknapp

Language: English

Pages: 432

ISBN: 0091917875

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


The Sunday Times number one bestselling memoir from Harry Redknapp

From kicking a ball as a kid under the street lamps of Poplar and standing on Highbury's North Bank with my dad, to my first game at West Ham, I was born head over heels in love with football. It saved me, and 50 years on that hasn't changed one bit—I'd be lost without it…

Harry is the soccer manager who has seen it all—from from a dismal 1970s Portakabin at Oxford City and training pitches with trees in the middle, to the unbeatable highs of the Premiership, lifting the FA Cup, and taking on Real Madrid in the Champions League. With his much loved, no-nonsense delivery, Harry brings us a story filled with passion and humor that takes you right inside every drama of his career. Harry finally tells the full story of all the controversial ups and downs—the pain and heartache of his court case, the England job, his love for Bobby Moore, his adventures at Portsmouth with Milan Mandaric, the Southampton debacle, Tottenham and Daniel Levy, and not forgetting his years at West Ham or the challenges at his current club QPR. It’s the epic journey of one of the great managers and, along the way, the story of the British game itself over the last five decades. In an era now dominated by foreign coaches, Harry is the last of an old-fashioned breed of English soccer man—one who has managed to move with the times and always come out fighting.

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I wasn’t about to lock myself in my room with a bottle of whisky. I think some people were more upset about it than I was. I was at Tottenham for the long haul, definitely now. I wasn’t reeling around, thinking, ‘Oh my God, what has just happened?’ Standing in a dock wondering if you would be going to prison for two years alters your perspective on life. Oh well, that’s how it goes. I had a good job at Tottenham before, I thought, and I’ve got a good job now. No harm done. Obviously, I’ve had

important game, however, so they had brought him back to the youth team as a one off. West Ham drew 0–0 and Bobby thought he did really well against Bridges. He knew Malcolm had been watching and when he came into the dressing room he thought his mentor was going to compliment him on stopping such a good player. Instead, Malcolm was furious. ‘If I ever see you play like that, I’ll never talk to you again,’ he said. ‘When our goalkeeper had the ball, what were you doing? You were looking at Barry

stupid. It would be like a bank robber telling a policeman to search under the floorboards for the loot. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the Rosie47 account. Milan had made an investment for me, the investment was crap, and that’s as far as it went. Milan sent a letter confirming this, too. So without me, none of this would have come to light and Quest’s man, Nigel Layton, said as much in court. He was fantastic for me, as a witness. He just told the truth. Nobody caught me. I

anything done some days. We’d start the warm-up jog and Julian would be lagging fifty yards behind and, slowly, three or four would join him. Another day he would start hoofing balls out of the training ground into the adjoining gardens, or skulk around at the back as everyone was doing their exercises, muttering, ‘What a load of bollocks.’ It got so bad that we had to invent drills just to get him to run. We’d line up cones for him to dribble around – real basic kid’s stuff – but it seemed to

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Graeme loved him, particularly the bit where he’d sploshed Sean Flynn. We were cursing Julian, but he was just Graeme’s sort of man. ‘I like him, Harry,’ he said. ‘He plays his fucking heart out. I’ll have one more look, next week against Swindon, and then I’ll make a decision.’ I thought Julian had his worst game for us against Swindon. No drama, just a poor afternoon. But on the Monday, Graeme was on the phone wanting to get a deal done. We knew it wasn’t going

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