When Guus Hiddink sneezes, Roman Abramovich catches a cold and Vladimir Putin develops a nervous cough.
They’d better order additional supplies of extra strength tissues for Manchester United’s visit to Stamford Bridge today.
Hiddink – like another student of socialism, Sir Alex Ferguson – understands how to use the cult of personality, welded around strong leaders.
They revere authority figures in Russia, a land trying to convince itself that Joseph Stalin was not so bad for a dictator who killed untold millions.
Putin may ignore David Miliband, the British Foreign Secretary when he pitches up in Moscow, but he’ll take the Dutchman’s calls 24/7.
Hiddink’s remarkable ability to win friends and influence important people ensures he will be conspicuous by his absence from the most significant match of the Premier League season so far.
He is way too cute to swan into West London, imply disrespect to Carlo Ancelotti and provide a diversion for a Chelsea team that, deep down, he must still consider his own.
Hiddink plans to be in Moscow, on media duties before his Russia squad assembles for World Cup play off matches against Slovenia.
The pressure on him to extend his contract until the 2012 European Championship is being applied from the Kremlin downwards. Hiddink has yet to enter negotiations with the Russian FA beyond an impish suggestion that, at 62: “I’m not getting any younger.”
The latest set of multi-millionaires to respond to his human qualities has been queuing up to eulogise him.
Arsenal and Russia striker Andrey Arshavin captured the mood when he suggested that: “Without Guus, there is no team.”
Russia should qualify for South Africa, and postpone the panic prompted by any hint from Hiddink it is time to move on. Should they lose to Slovenia, a small nation punching above its weight, big men have big decisions to make.
Hiddink has the knack of never outstaying his welcome.
Unattached, even in spirit, he’s the most attractive manager in world football.
United, remember, need a huge personality to succeed Fergie.
They need someone who is not cowed by legend or intimidated by a once-in-a-generation opportunity.
If I were Tom Hicks or George Gillett – football’s answer to Dick Dastardly and Muttley – I’d make plans to sack Rafa Benitez and offer to sell the last remaining sliver of my soul.
Hiddink would be perfect for Liverpool.
He would take a warm bath in the club’s history, cleanse himself with Shankly’s spirit.
Then he’d win round Steven Gerrard and Jamie Carragher, in the way he convinced Frank Lampard and John Terry he was The Man.
Abramovich takes loyalty deadly seriously. He will not want to lose someone in whom he has invested so much faith.
Hiddink’s spell as caretaker-manager, ruthlessly engineered but undeniably necessary, marked a turning point in Chelsea’s development.
He set about changing attitudes to a regime that lacked humility, class, and sheer common sense.
Whisper it, in the way you might admit Take That can hold a tune, but it may now be socially acceptable to admire Chelsea.
Peter Kenyon and his PR man have left the building. New chief executive Ron Gourlay has been understated, realistic. Even the impending abomination of selling naming rights to Stamford Bridge smacks of commercial expedience. Chelsea are flirting with the real world.
My best guess is that, eventually, Hiddink will return as technical director.
Few will mourn Frank Arnesen’s passing.
Hiddink doesn’t need the limitations of the manager’s role. He will be in the background, pulling the strings.
Just like his new best friend, Vladimir Putin, the man who really runs Russia, rather than President Medvedev.
They’d better order additional supplies of extra strength tissues for Manchester United’s visit to Stamford Bridge today.
Hiddink – like another student of socialism, Sir Alex Ferguson – understands how to use the cult of personality, welded around strong leaders.
They revere authority figures in Russia, a land trying to convince itself that Joseph Stalin was not so bad for a dictator who killed untold millions.
Putin may ignore David Miliband, the British Foreign Secretary when he pitches up in Moscow, but he’ll take the Dutchman’s calls 24/7.
Hiddink’s remarkable ability to win friends and influence important people ensures he will be conspicuous by his absence from the most significant match of the Premier League season so far.
He is way too cute to swan into West London, imply disrespect to Carlo Ancelotti and provide a diversion for a Chelsea team that, deep down, he must still consider his own.
Hiddink plans to be in Moscow, on media duties before his Russia squad assembles for World Cup play off matches against Slovenia.
The pressure on him to extend his contract until the 2012 European Championship is being applied from the Kremlin downwards. Hiddink has yet to enter negotiations with the Russian FA beyond an impish suggestion that, at 62: “I’m not getting any younger.”
The latest set of multi-millionaires to respond to his human qualities has been queuing up to eulogise him.
Arsenal and Russia striker Andrey Arshavin captured the mood when he suggested that: “Without Guus, there is no team.”
Russia should qualify for South Africa, and postpone the panic prompted by any hint from Hiddink it is time to move on. Should they lose to Slovenia, a small nation punching above its weight, big men have big decisions to make.
Hiddink has the knack of never outstaying his welcome.
Unattached, even in spirit, he’s the most attractive manager in world football.
United, remember, need a huge personality to succeed Fergie.
They need someone who is not cowed by legend or intimidated by a once-in-a-generation opportunity.
If I were Tom Hicks or George Gillett – football’s answer to Dick Dastardly and Muttley – I’d make plans to sack Rafa Benitez and offer to sell the last remaining sliver of my soul.
Hiddink would be perfect for Liverpool.
He would take a warm bath in the club’s history, cleanse himself with Shankly’s spirit.
Then he’d win round Steven Gerrard and Jamie Carragher, in the way he convinced Frank Lampard and John Terry he was The Man.
Abramovich takes loyalty deadly seriously. He will not want to lose someone in whom he has invested so much faith.
Hiddink’s spell as caretaker-manager, ruthlessly engineered but undeniably necessary, marked a turning point in Chelsea’s development.
He set about changing attitudes to a regime that lacked humility, class, and sheer common sense.
Whisper it, in the way you might admit Take That can hold a tune, but it may now be socially acceptable to admire Chelsea.
Peter Kenyon and his PR man have left the building. New chief executive Ron Gourlay has been understated, realistic. Even the impending abomination of selling naming rights to Stamford Bridge smacks of commercial expedience. Chelsea are flirting with the real world.
My best guess is that, eventually, Hiddink will return as technical director.
Few will mourn Frank Arnesen’s passing.
Hiddink doesn’t need the limitations of the manager’s role. He will be in the background, pulling the strings.
Just like his new best friend, Vladimir Putin, the man who really runs Russia, rather than President Medvedev.
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