Pep Guardiola: Another Way of Winning: The Biography

by Balague, Guillem

  To my brother Gustavo (culé),

  my sister Yolanda (new-born culé),

  Luis Miguel García (who will never be culé)

  and Brent Wilks (who reminds us constantly football is not about life and death)

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title page

  Dedication

  Foreword by Sir Alex Ferguson

  Rome. 27 May 2009. UEFA Champions League final

  Prologue

  I Why Did He Have to Leave?

  1 The ‘Whys’

  2 The Decision

  II Pep: From a Santpedor Square to the Camp Nou Dugout

  III Pep, the Manager

  1 The Beginnings

  2 The Extraordinary 2–6 at the Santiago Bernabéu

  3 The Six Titles in One Calendar Year

  4 The Two Champions League Finals

  FC BARCELONA V MANCHESTER UNITED. ROME 2009

  FC BARCELONA V MANCHESTER UNITED. WEMBLEY 2011

  5 Pep and His Players

  6 Pep Guardiola and José Mourinho

  7 The Goodbye. But Before It, One More Final

  IV Appendices: Pep Guardiola for Beginners

  Appendix 1. La Masía

  Appendix 2. The Stats

  Acknowledgements

  Index

  By the same author

  List of Illustrations

  Copyright

  FOREWORD

  by Sir Alex Ferguson

  I missed out on signing Pep Guardiola as a player back at the time when he realised that his future no longer lay at Barcelona.

  Although there wasn’t any apparent reason for him to leave his club, we spoke to Guardiola and I thought I had a good chance of getting him: maybe the timing I chose was wrong. It would have been interesting; he was the kind of player that Paul Scholes developed into: he was captain, leader and midfield playmaker in Johan Cruyff ’s incredible Barcelona Dream Team and displayed a composure and ability to use the ball and dictate the tempo of a game that made him one of the greatest players of his generation. Those were the kinds of qualities I was looking for. I ended up signing Juan Sebastián Verón for that reason. Sometimes, you look back at a really top player and you say to yourself: ‘I wonder what it would have been like if he’d have come to United?’ That is the case with Pep Guardiola.

  I can understand Pep’s situation as a player. When you’re at a club like Barcelona, you would like to think you have a place for life. So when we approached him he probably thought he still had a future at the club even though he ended up leaving that season. It is a shame, because nothing is for life in football: age and time catch up with you and the day comes when both you and the club have to move on. At the time I thought we were offering Pep a solution, a different road in his career, but it didn’t work out. It reminds me of Gary Neville. Having had Gary at Manchester United since he was twelve years old, he became almost like family: like a son, someone you depend upon and trust, who was part of the whole structure of the team. But one day it all finishes. In Pep’s case, the realisation that all that was coming to an end must have been difficult. I could understand his doubts, his delay in committing, but it got to a point where we had to look somewhere else and that opportunity disappeared.

  One thing I have noticed about Guardiola – crucial to his immense success as a manager – is that he has been very humble. He has never tried to gloat, he has been very respectful – and that is very important. It is good to have those qualities and, looking back, it is apparent that he has been unassuming throughout his career. As a player he was never the type to be on the front pages of the papers. He played his game in a certain way; he wasn’t tremendously quick but a fantastic, composed footballer. As a coach he is very disciplined in terms of how his team plays, but whether they win or lose he is always the same elegant, unpretentious individual. And, to be honest, I think it is good to have someone like that in this profession.

  However, it seems that he reached a point in his coaching career where he was conscious of the importance of his job at Barcelona while experiencing the demands attached to it. I am sure he spent time thinking, ‘How long is it going to last? Will I be able to create another title-winning team? Will I be able to create another European Cup-winning team? Can I maintain this level of success?’

  If I had arrived in time to advise him, I would have told Pep not to worry about it: a failure to win the Champions League is not an indictment of his managerial abilities or of his team. I understand the pressure, though: the expectation was so high every time Guardiola’s team played, everyone wanted to beat them. In fact, I think he was in a fortunate position in a way, because the only thing he had to worry about was how he was going to break down the opposing team to stop them winning.

  Personally, I think it’s about keeping going. So, why go? It might be a question of controlling the players, of finding new tactics because teams have started working out Barça’s style of play. Or a question of motivating them. In my experience, a ‘normal’ human being wants to do things the easiest possible way in life. For instance, I know some people who have retired at fifty years old – don’t ask me why! So the drive that most people have is different from that of individuals like Scholes, Giggs, Xavi, Messi and Puyol who, as far as I am concerned, are exceptional human beings and motivation is not an issue for them because their pride comes before everything. I am sure Pep’s squad was full of the types of characters who were an example to others and a source of motivation: not types who wanted to retire too early.

  I know Gerard Piqué from his time here at United. I know his type of personality: off the pitch he can be a laid-back, easy-going guy, but on the pitch he is a winner. He was a winner here and we didn’t want the boy to leave, and he is a winner there at Barcelona. The players Pep had under him needed less motivation than most. Perhaps Pep underestimated his motivational abilities? You could see what he consistently achieved with that Barcelona team and you need to have a special talent to keep them competing at that level and with such success for so long. But I am convinced he has enough weapons to do it again. And again and again.

  What Guardiola achieved in his four years at the first team of Barcelona betters anything that previous coaches at the Camp Nou have done – and there have been some great ones: Van Gaal, Rijkaard and Cruyff to name a few; but Guardiola has taken certain areas to another level – such as pressing the ball – and Barcelona’s disciplined style of play and work ethic have become a trademark of all his teams. Pep created a culture where the players know that if they don’t work hard, they won’t be at the club. Believe me, that is not easy to do.

  Whatever Pep’s next move may be after he has taken some time out, whether he moves to the Premier League or not, there’s always going to be a lot of speculation surrounding his future. He was at a fantastic football club at Barcelona and it is not going to get any better for him wherever he goes. Going to another club will not take any pressure off him or reduce the level of expectation surrounding him. In fact, wherever he goes he is going to have the same experience: he is a manager; he has to decide what is best for his team, about choosing players and their tactics. It is that simple. In that respect it is the same wherever you go, because all managers’ jobs come with pressure. I’ve been successful at Manchester United for many years and it’s not without its problems – every hour of every day you have to deal with something. It comes down to the fact that you are dealing with human beings in the world of football. There’s a plethora of things to worry about: agents, family, form, injuries, age, profile, ego, etc. If Pep were to go to another club the questions
would be the same as those he has faced so far. The expectation would follow him around.

  So, why? Why would he decide to leave? When you asked me before Pep announced his decision, I did say that it would be silly not to see the job through. If you look at Madrid, who won five European Cups in the late fifties and early sixties, there’s no reason to think that he couldn’t have done the same with Barça. That to me would be a personal motivation if I had that team. And if I were Pep, leaving would have been the most difficult decision to make.

  Sir Alex Ferguson

  Spring 2012

  Rome. 27 May 2009. UEFA Champions League final

  It is the eighth minute of the match. Barcelona yet to find their rhythm. The players are all in the right positions, but none of them willing to bite, to step forward and pressure the man on the ball. They are playing within themselves, showing too much respect to Manchester United. Ronaldo has a shot saved by Víctor Valdés. Another shot. United are getting closer. Cristiano fires just wide of the post. Centimetres. That’s the difference. Centimetres away from goal.

  Centimetres away from changing the way the world judges Pep Guardiola and his Nou Camp revolution.

  Giggs, Carrick, Anderson are moving the ball around at will between the lines. Something has to be done. Pep leaps from the bench and barks rapid-fire instructions, his voice carrying to his players above the cacophony of noise in a packed Olympic stadium in Rome.

  Messi is told to take up a position between the United centre backs, as a false striker – and Eto’o is shifted out wide, to occupy his place on the right wing. Ferguson, on the bench, impassive. Delighted with the outcome so far, feels in control.

  But the tide changes. Imperceptibly at first. Messi finds Iniesta, who finds Xavi, who finds Messi. Suddenly, Carrick and Anderson must react quickly, decide who to mark, which pass to break, space to cover. Giggs is tied up with Busquets and cannot help.

  Iniesta receives the ball in the centre of the pitch. Evra has lost Eto’o and Iniesta spots the opportunity opening up on the right flank. He dribbles the ball forward and then, at precisely the right moment, finds Eto’o on the edge of the box with an incisive, inch-perfect pass. He receives the ball. Vidić is making a last-ditch attempt to cover him but Eto’o jinks past him, and, in the blink of an eye, relying on his pure assassin’s instinct, fires in a shot at the near post.

  The destination of that shot, that instant, the culmination of a move, would help convert an idea, a seed planted forty years earlier, into a footballing tsunami that would transform the game for years to come.

  PROLOGUE

  Pep left Barcelona and all he had shaped because, Sir Alex, he is not like most managers. He walked away because he is, quite simply, not your typical football man.

  You could already see it in your first encounter in the dugout, in the Champions League final in Rome in 2009. For that final, Guardiola had made a compendium of his thoughts and applied his club philosophy to everything related to that game, from preparation to tactics, from the last tactical chat to the way they celebrated the victory. Pep had invited the world to join him and his players in the joy of playing a huge European Cup final.

  He was confident he had prepared the team to beat you, but, if that was not possible, the fans would take home the pride of having tried it the Barça way and, in the process, of having overcome a dark period in their history. Not only had he changed a negative trend within the club, but he had also, in only twelve months since his arrival, started to bury some powerful unwritten but fashionable commandments that talked about the importance of winning above anything else, the impossibility of reconciling the principle of reaching the highest targets with playing well, producing a spectacle. Or the one that considered obsolete the essential values of sportsmanship and respect. Who came up with those rules, who started the fashion? Since day one of his arrival in the dugout at Barcelona, Pep was willing to go against the tide because that was all he believed in.

  But that was then.

  By the end of his tenure he was no longer the youthful, eager, enthusiastic manager you met that night in Rome or the following year in Nyon, at the UEFA headquarters, for a rare moment of socialising.

  On the day he announced to the world he was leaving his boyhood club after four years in charge of the first team you could see the toll it had taken: it was discernible in his eyes and in his receding hairline, now flecked with grey. But the eyes: it was especially visible if you looked into his eyes. He was no longer as spirited and impressionable as on that morning in Switzerland, when you offered him some words of wisdom and fatherly advice. Did you know that he still talks about that chat, those fifteen minutes with you, as one of the highlights of his career? He was like a star-struck teenager, repeating for days afterwards: ‘I was with Sir Alex, I spoke to Sir Alex Ferguson!’ Back then, everything was new and exciting: obstacles were challenges rather than insurmountable hurdles.

  On that sunny morning in September 2010, at UEFA’s modern rectangular building on the shores of Lake Geneva, the annual coaches’ conference provided the setting for the first social meeting between yourself and Pep Guardiola since you became coaches. Before that, you scarcely had time to exchange anything more than pleasantries in Rome, and Pep had been looking forward to spending some time in your company, away from the pressures of competition. The conference provided an opportunity for coaches to gossip, discuss trends, whinge and bond as an elite group of professionals who would spend the rest of the year in a state of perpetual solitude, struggling to manage twenty or so egos, plus their families and agents.

  Among the guests in Nyon was a certain José Mourinho, the colourful new manager of Real Madrid and reigning European champion with Inter Milan, the team that had knocked Pep’s Barcelona out in the semi-final the previous season. Mid-morning, on the first of two days, you arrived at UEFA headquarters in one of a pair of minibuses; the first carrying the Portuguese coach, along with the then Chelsea manager Carlo Ancelotti and Roma’s Claudio Ranieri. Guardiola travelled in the second bus, with you. As soon as you entered the building, Mourinho approached the group that had gathered around you, while Guardiola stepped to one side to take it all in: to photograph the moment – always aware of the significance of these events in his own life story. After all, he was surrounded by some of football’s great minds, he was there to listen, to watch and to learn. As he has always done.

  Pep spent a while on his own, distanced from the conversations that were taking place. Mourinho spotted him out of the corner of his eye and left the group he was in. He greeted Guardiola and shook his hand effusively. The pair smiled. They started talking animatedly for a few minutes and the Werder Bremen coach, Thomas Schaaf, joined in, occasionally managing to catch his colleagues’ attention.

  It was the last time Pep Guardiola and José Mourinho were to speak on such amicable terms.

  The groups entered the main conference hall for the first of the two sessions that day, where you talked about the tactical trends that were used in the previous Champions League campaign, as well as other topics related to the World Cup in South Africa, which Spain had just won. At the end of the first meeting, everyone posed for a group photograph. Didier Deschamps was sitting between Guardiola and Mourinho in the centre of the front row. On the left, you sat next to Ancelotti. There was laughter and banter and it was developing into quite an entertaining day.

  Just before the second session, there was time for coffee and you and Guardiola found yourselves together in a seating area with a breathtaking view of Lake Geneva, overlooking clear blue water and the exclusive homes visible on the far shore.

  Pep felt humbled in your presence. In his eyes you are a giant of the dugout, but that morning you were an affable Scot who smiled easily – as you often do when out of the limelight. You admired the younger manager’s humility, despite the fact that Pep had already won seven titles out of a possible nine at that point – and had the world of football arguing about whether he was implementing an
evolution or a revolution at FC Barcelona. The general consensus at the time was that, at the very least, Pep’s youth and positivity were a breath of fresh air.

  That chat over coffee quickly turned into an improvised lesson between teacher and pupil. Pep enjoys spending time watching and taking in what the legends of football have added to the game. In great detail he recalls Van Gaal’s Ajax, Milan’s achievements with Sacchi. He could talk to you for ages about both. And he holds winning a European Cup in almost the same esteem as he does his shirt signed by his idol Michel Platini. You are also a member of Pep’s particular hall of fame.

  As the pupil listened, soaking up every word, his respect for you was transformed into devotion: not only because of the symbolic content of the chat, your vision of the profession. It wasn’t just the insight. It was the stature of the man who was doing the talking.

  He is in awe of the longevity of your tenure at Manchester United: the resilience and inner strength required to stay in the job for so long. Pep has always thought that the pressures at Barcelona and Manchester must be different. He yearns to understand how one sustains the hunger for success and avoids the loss of appetite that must inevitably follow successive victories. He believes that a team that wins all the time needs to lose to benefit from the lessons that only defeat can bring. Pep wants to discover how you deal with that, Sir Alex; how you clear your mind; how you relate to defeat. You didn’t have time to talk about everything, but those issues will be raised next time you cross paths, you can be sure of that.

  Pep venerates your composure in both victory and defeat and the way you fight tooth and nail to defend your own brand of football – and you also advised him to keep faithful to who he is, to his beliefs and inner self.