Free Arsènal by Alex Fynn

in the Premier League.”
    Yet at the outset the resistance to a man whose ideas were so at odds with the established culture of the game in England bordered on xenophobia. Certainly, fabricated stories about Wenger’s private life that led to him having to face down a melee of journalists on the steps outside Highbury in his first weeks indicated a move to belittle him and make him persona non grata at the earliest opportunity. Alex Ferguson didn’t exactly help matters with comments like “He’s a novice and should keep his opinions to Japanese football.” In direct contrast to the widespread insularity he encountered – it took a while for the penny to drop – an open-mindedness and an awareness of conditions outside the United Kingdom explains exactly why Wenger was able to buy quality players at bargain prices from the overseas markets (not least France) until other managers were forced to open their eyes by the progress of the ‘novice’. His first hand knowledge of continental football gave the Arsenal manager a similar advantage to that George Graham had enjoyed in his early days when he plundered the lower divisions to build his backline.
    The benefits were long-term, as a critical factor in his good start was the revival Wenger inspired in the old English die-hards who had lost their ‘desire’ under Graham. The defence that Wenger inherited – David Seaman, Lee Dixon, Nigel Winterburn, Tony Adams, Steve Bould and Martin Keown – was stacked with experience, but the consensus between both fans and pundits was that time waits for no man and physical decline was beginning to show signs of setting in. They were won over simply because as their fitness dramatically improved so did their performances. Tony Adams put it down to physiology. “There’s no one better at preparing players physically, knowing what they need to be at the peak of fitness,” he said. Steve Bould stressed that he “felt so much fitter under Wenger. I wasn’t injured so much. I felt a lot more supple. We would never have lasted so long without his special methods.” The reactionary Little Englanders who had walked off with pretty much everything the game had to offer were reinvigorated. The defensive unit was reborn in the face of a fresh challenge, and did their stuff – as they entered their thirties – consistently enough to compete once again for the title.
    And the pupils opened their teacher’s eyes. Lee Dixon recalls that Wenger “was surprised how good we were as footballers and how intelligent we were. He’d thought we were like robots just doing what we were told. So when he tried to expand our game and let us go out and express ourselves, we were able to do it. When he first came he was going to let us all go.” Steve Bould concurred: “He left us alone during that first season because he only arrived in September, but I think he imagined he was going to have to replace us the following summer.” There is no doubt that a huge contribution to the early headway was the defenders’ willingness to approach their task with a greater sense of purpose than the mere denial of opponents that George Graham required. “You were allowed to do what you wanted in many ways,” recalls Nigel Winterburn. “There weren’t any restrictions. He left it up to us whether we went forward or not. He trusted our judgment.”
    Winterburn’s words point to Wenger’s singular approach to coaching. There is very little instruction. Even the juvenile stand-in is not sat down, lectured and told what to do. Having prepared his troupe to perform both physically and mentally at their optimum level, the manager relies on their intelligence and skill to come up with the winning formula. As UEFA coach and former Arsenal midfielder, Stewart Robson, observes, “he develops players not by fantastic coaching but by giving them the