When you have a history as rich and successful as Liverpool Football Club, the benefits are obvious.
The Reds have long traded off the power their incredible success in the 1960s, 70s and 80s afforded them. Their greatest player - Kenny Dalglish - welcomes new scholars to the club's academy. The walls of Anfield are covered with pictures of great players, great managers, and great success.
On Wednesday night, before the 2-1 home win over Wigan, Anfield honoured arguably its greatest ever. Bill Shankly transformed Liverpool between 1959 and 1974, turning a dilapidated shell of a club into one that would go on to dominate European football. The tributes - led by 15 of Shankly's ex-players - were moving and genuine.
For Rafa Benitez, the latest man to attempt to uphold the Shankly ethos, the night was about much more than just remembering the past. The present at Liverpool is something the Spaniard has good reason to be concerned with; the future is not something he dare think about.
It has become commonplace in recent weeks, as we approached the 50th anniversary of Shankly's arrival on Merseyside, to ponder what the gruff-voice from Glenbuck would make of Liverpool's current sequence of results (and performances).
Most tend to agree that Shankly would be sickened by a run which has seen the Reds pick up just four wins in 16 games, crash out of the Champions League and slip to sixth place in the Premier League. In doing so, they often venture the view that Benitez is somehow letting the club - and Shankly - down.
But is that the case? Can anyone live up to the standards set by Shankly, a man whose legend grows year on year? Liverpool's past may be one of its greatest weapons, but when times are hard, it can also become their biggest burden.
No manager can ever compare favourably with a man who helped paint the stands at Anfield, who addressed the public like a great orator, and who produced a litany of incredible soundbytes which will live on forever. No manager will ever do for Liverpool what Shankly did.
But then, Shankly and Benitez operated in different worlds, football-wise. When Shankly found opposition from the Liverpool hierarchy, he found a director willing to back his instincts with capital. How Benitez must long for a Mr. Eric Sawyer to breeze into the Anfield board room these days, armed with David Villa and Gareth Barry.
Shankly moulded unknown players and made them internationals. No one could argue with that, but the landscape of the transfer market was distinctly different. The foreign invasion was still more than a quarter of a century away when Shankly took charge at Anfield, and clubs had both the need, and the time, to blood such players. (Incidentally, Pepe Reina, Alvaro Arbeloa, Emiliano Insua, Lucas Leiva and Peter Crouch all became established international players under Benitez's tutelage).
Liverpool could, theoretically, take players from Bury, Motherwell and Scunthorpe - as Shankly did in Alec Lindsay, Ian St John and Kevin Keegan - and put them in the first team, but would the Anfield fans be prepared to stand by them if they were sub-standard at first? Especially knowing the open transfer market meant a more suitable foreign alternative would be out there?
Benitez is operating in a world where money rules. Coaching, scouting and preparation - all areas in which Shankly and his team excelled - pale into insignificance if a club does not have the financial wherewithal to compete with its big-money rivals. The top flight may have been more competitive in the late 1960s, but a closed safe is harder to crack than an open gate.
Liverpool earn less than half what Arsenal do in gate receipts every season, they pay their players almost £60 million less than Chelsea every year. These are issues that would be alien to Shankly, but which Benitez is battling every day.
Shankly enjoyed a fruitful relationship with the media, delighting them with his quirky and ingenious turns of phrase, and ensuring their pages were never in need of filling. In this day and age though, the chances are at some point the knife would have been stuck into him. Liverpool won nothing between 1966 and 1973, yet there were - quite rightly - few questions asked about Shankly's methods, or his suitability for the role.
No such luck for Benitez. The blanket coverage of the media means manager's positions are under scrutiny now more than ever before. Tenureships at clubs are usually measured in months rather than years, as impatience rules the roost.
Benitez must contend with lists deriding his record in the transfer market (even Shankly made mistakes, look at Alun Evans or Tony Hateley for example). He must field questions about his future, his tactics, his style of play, even his persona. It is hard to imagine Shankly facing the glare of a hundred ex-Liverpool players armed with strong opinions and short memories.
None of this is to belittle the achievements of Shankly, or to defend Liverpool's recent run. To do either would be lunacy.
The point is simply to highlight the problems of comparing eras like-for-like. As Liverpool honours the man who changed the face of their history, is it not time to give some support to the man who is trying to do the same, only in a much greater shadow?
