Obituary Sven-Goran Eriksson: Calm, dignified, positive, but never a wimp
It was just before a Manchester City press conference when a concerned club official entered the room to warn everyone that – and it’s a story that feels relevant now – Sven-Goran Eriksson was more furious than he had ever seen.
Eriksson took the City job in 2007, the time in East Manchester before the money started rolling in. It was his first footballing appointment since ending his time as England manager.
But the tabloids had become so obsessed with his private life that during his 11 months in Manchester he preferred to live in the presidential suite at the Radisson hotel rather than take the more conventional route of buying or renting a house.
A photographer had figured out that he could point his lens directly at the hotel bar from the street below, and a series of front-page photos had shown Eriksson dancing with a younger woman who was not his partner. He seemed to be holding her tightly. In the last photo, his hand appeared to have run across the small of her back. Who was this mysterious brunette? Was Sven up to his old tricks again?
Well, it turned out to be his daughter and that perhaps says a lot about the scruples of some major newspapers who had made it their business to spy on his life.
Sven, we were warned, wanted to tackle it. He was apparently on the warpath. And “we” in this case refers to the Manchester football journalists, who have long been accustomed to having our eyebrows burned by Sir Alex Ferguson’s fiery accent that became known as the ‘hairdryer’ treatment.
What we never saw was the Eriksson version, and let’s face it, he had every right to be furious. He didn’t look all that angry when he walked in, though. “Today,” he said, “not good.”
And, damn it, that was it. He smiled and held out his hand to welcome us all, one by one. No shouting, no threats. It was typical Sven: killing everyone with kindness.
Why tell this story now? Well, perhaps it tells us a lot about the man’s approach to life, and why the news of his death, at the age of 76, has prompted so many tributes from people who spent time in his company and have their own stories about that sweet, calm demeanor.
Eriksson oversees England training (Gareth Copley – PA Images/PA Images via Getty Images)
But make no mistake: he was no wimp, as Ferguson himself could testify during that awkward phone call in which Eriksson told him that he did indeed want to take Wayne Rooney to the 2006 World Cup, completely against the wishes of the United manager as the player was recovering from a broken metatarsal.
In the years that followed, Eriksson would chuckle at the memory of Ferguson’s X-rated response, and how the Swede would have to hold his phone away from his ear at the worst possible moments. But Eriksson stood firm. He refused to be beaten up, and eventually got his way.
More about Sir Alex Ferguson…
No manager with Eriksson’s track record, including 18 trophies with clubs in Sweden, Portugal and Italy, could have worked in football for as long as he did without a steel rim. He may have just hidden it better than most.
His first managerial appointment was in 1977 with Degerfors of Sweden. His last was in 2019 with the Philippines national team. In between he spent five years in charge of England, one season with Manchester City, a year with Leicester City and seven months as director of football at Notts County. He left all these jobs in circumstances that would not normally qualify someone as a national (overseas) treasure.
And yet it had felt that way for a while, especially since he spoke openly about his pancreatic cancer and accepted that he was not going to win the battle against this cruel, indiscriminate disease.
Eriksson’s reaction to the news went beyond the sports bubble. It was a reminder that as important as football is, he understood life’s priorities. He’s always been comfortable in his own skin, but not everyone feels able to speak so openly and exude such optimism when they’re staring death in the face. Not everyone wants to advertise the fact that they’re in their final months and weeks.
Of course, he never saw it that way. He wanted to say goodbye. And, Sven being Sven, he also wanted to say thank you. In a time when the internet, football and social media can be quite a mix, he seemed intent on bringing something different into the homes of complete strangers. His messages had warmth and kindness at the core of everything.
And it was mutual.
If Eriksson had a bucket list, managing Liverpool would be on it. He was thrilled when the club he supported as a boy invited him to manage Liverpool in a charity match against Ajax in March. It was, he said, “absolutely wonderful” to be in the Anfield dugout.
These are just some of the moments recently when it seemed like a brainwashing that his presence in English football in another era would have been seen as an insult by many.
Eriksson fulfils his ambition to coach Liverpool at Anfield (Liverpool FC/Liverpool FC via Getty Images)
John Barnwell, of the League Managers’ Association, described it as “an insult” to his members when the Football Association confirmed in 2001 that it had invited a non-Englishman to fill the vacancy left by the departure of Kevin Keegan. Gordon Taylor, of the Professional Footballers’ Association, accused the FA of “betraying our heritage”. A notorious column in the Daily Mail lamented that English football had decided to “sell our birthright on the fjord to a nation of seven million skiers and hammer throwers who live half their year in darkness”.
The speed with which these opinions changed once England started winning under their new manager was something to behold. Not that the man in question ever seemed particularly impressed.
“Sweden had an English manager (George Raynor) in 1958 when they reached the World Cup final,” Eriksson said. “Why wouldn’t a Swede choose England? I read a book called The Second Most Important Job In The Country, which goes all the way through the England managers from 1949 to Kevin Keegan. It showed that they were all declared idiots at some point, even Sir Alf Ramsey (the 1966 World Cup-winning manager), so I knew what to expect.”
Sometimes he didn’t help himself, not least when, months before the 2006 World Cup, he attended a meeting with what he thought was a wealthy businessman and was recorded admitting he would be prepared to give up the England role to manage Aston Villa. The ‘fake sheikh’ turned out to be an undercover reporter for the News of the World.
It hurt him that he could not achieve anything of substance with the so-called ‘Golden Generation’, which included Michael Owen, David Beckham, Rio Ferdinand, John Terry, Frank Lampard, Steven Gerrard, Paul Scholes and various other A-list stars of that time.
The ‘Golden Generation’ failed under Eriksson’s leadership (Claudio Villa/Getty Images)
Yes, the 5-1 win in Germany in 2001 is one of England’s greatest achievements, but Eriksson, behind the polite smile and owlish spectacles, was burning with competitive desire. He desperately wanted more, especially when Hurricane Rooney arrived on the scene and started blowing opponents out of the way. It was Eriksson, remember, who compared him to Pele.
Ultimately, however, Eriksson never wanted to be defined purely as a football manager. He led a nomadic life, with roles in China, Thailand and Dubai and national team duties with Mexico and Ivory Coast.
Even when cancer struck, he was determined to see more of the world, explore new places and expand his knowledge.
Eriksson receives the applause of fans at another of his former clubs, Lazio, in May (Marco Rosi – SS Lazio/Getty Images)
His home was in Sunne, Sweden, and it was there that he recorded the farewell message that was sent last week. “I’ve had a good life. We all fear the day we die, but life is also about death,” he said.
Watching it now, you’re reminded of one of his truest gifts: his extraordinary calm in the most difficult circumstances. His dignity, his positivity. You might think he released it too soon. But he had it all planned. He laughs, right at the end.
“I hope you remember me as a positive guy who tried to do everything he could do,” he said. “Don’t be sorry. Smile. Thank you for everything — coaches, players, crowd, it was great. Take care of yourself and take care of your life. And live it.”
(Top photo: Clive Mason/Getty Images)
