Here you go Clrnc:
[spoiler]When we meet at a cafĂ© on Rue Faidherbe in Paris, ArsĂšne Wenger tells me that he played football in a charity match the day before. Oh yeah, were you any good? âI was very good,â he says in that deadpan manner that became so familiar even to casual fans during his 22-year tenure (1996-2018 ) as manager of Arsenal.
âI can say that because you didnât see me play,â he adds, undercutting the boast. Even so, tall and trim, he cannot hide the pride he takes in his enduring physical fitness. âIâm 70. I can still play football, so thatâs not too bad.â Especially when the other players included Laurent Blanc, Christian Karembeu and Bixente Lizarazu, all a generation younger and sharing almost 250 French caps between them. Did his team win? âOf course. 4-1.â Did he score? âNo, I played centre back.â
As a pro himself, way back, Wenger was a midfielder. He had a decent career in the French lower leagues but played just a handful of games in Ligue 1 for Strasbourg, the club he supported as a boy growing up in Alsace. Later, required to juggle a football during the photoshoot, Wenger demonstrates his technical ability. Even in his pristine smart casuals, his control in a tight space is way above average. Many of the best coaches â Wenger, Sir Alex Ferguson, JĂŒrgen Klopp â had good but not great playing careers. Pep Guardiola, who was world class on the pitch, is an exception. In a different way so is JosĂ© Mourinho, who never played professionally.
By the age of 30, while still playing, Wenger had already started coaching. After spells at smaller clubs he made his name at Monaco, winning the title there before going to work in Japan. When he arrived at his near-namesake club in north London, the headlines asked variations on the question: âArsĂšne who?â
Nobody was asking that just two years later, when his club won the Premier League and FA Cup double. Wenger repeated the feat in 2002 and in 2004 won the title again, this time without losing a single game. Despite continued cup success in later years and an impressive 19 consecutive qualifications for the Champions League, reaching the final in 2006, Wenger lost the support of many fans and finally left his beloved club two years ago. It was, as he admits in his new autobiography, a âvery lonely, very painfulâ separation. He has not been back to the Emirates, Arsenalâs stadium. Not yet anyway.
âI will go one day,â he says, sipping his mineral water. Has he been invited? âYes, but I thought it was better to cut completely. It was difficult at the start, of course, after leading my club as long as I did, but I thought itâs better to follow from a distance.â
Which he does, avidly watching every game. I ask if heâd seen the recent England v Iceland international, an unconvincing 1-0 victory. Of course he saw it. This is a man who once told reporters he would celebrate a title by watching a recording of a game in the German second division, who writes in his book that âa day without a football match seems empty to meâ. His analysis of that England game? âIt was bad. Iâve seen so many good players not doing well for England. Theyâre scared to play. Phil Foden is a guy with big quality, but at the moment he has not made it. He hasnât played enough at Manchester City. You need about 100 games to know your job in the Premier League.â
Going back to his departure from Arsenal, he now has âno connection at all with the clubâ. I mention Sir Alex Ferguson who, after 26 years at Manchester United, was given a seat on the board. Why wasnât he made a similar offer? âI donât know. I always said I would still play a part in the club, but I could understand that at the start itâs better that we take a complete distance.â If asked, would he have accepted? âI would have done that, yes.â
The severance seems particularly ungrateful on Arsenalâs part, given Wenger became a lot more than a mere manager during his tenure. He was so careful with the clubâs money that around the time of the move from Highbury to the Emirates, the bank insisted on his agreeing a new five-year contract before signing off on a loan, as if his presence was the best guarantor for the investment.
The normal reward might well have been a directorship. âYes, but I donât expect anything,â he says. âIâm just doing my job. As long as Iâm somewhere, I give my best. Iâm happy having served the club and leaving them in good hands and in good shape. Overall, I did the job at three levels: to play with style and to win; to develop players; and to develop the club worldwide. The third level today is impossible. Itâs not in your hands any more.â
Maybe Klopp has that sort of power at Liverpool. Wenger is dismissive. âNo, he is solely focused on the team. He doesnât negotiate the transfers or build the stadium.â He hasnât really stayed in touch with his contemporaries. âThese people are all very busy. Iâm not close enough to them . . . except [he pauses] Ferguson, yes.â
Does he have Fergieâs number in his phone? âI have Fergusonâs number, yes.â Youâd know it was him calling? âYeah, yeah.â Youâre friends? âWe have a lot of respect for each other now.â There was a period when you didnât . . . âWe had a period when it was very tough, very hot.â Throwing pizzas and all the rest of it? (This refers to an incident in the tunnel at Old Trafford in 2004, when Arsenalâs Cesc FĂ bregas chucked a pizza from the post-match buffet and it hit the United manager.) Wenger laughs. âAfter youâre not competing any more, everyone becomes a bit more objective.
âHe [Ferguson] knows better wine than I do,â Wenger admits, growing nostalgic. âAh, we had some good battles. Heâs an intelligent man. You donât make a career like this guy if youâre stupid.â
As for Guardiola, the two are not in touch. But, âWhen Guardiola was still a player,â Wenger reveals, âhe came to my home to ask to play for Arsenal. At the time I had [Patrick] Vieira, I had Gilberto Silva. I couldnât take him.â
Living mainly in London, with homes in Paris and Zurich (where he has a role with Fifa as chief of global football development), Wenger remains an avid fan of the Premier League. âI follow every English game on television. Itâs my league. We donât need to come out from a special school to know Bayern Munich will win the championship in Germany, that Juventus will win it in Italy, that Paris Saint-Germain will win it in France. England is still the most unpredictable league in Europe, even if last year was not a good year [with Liverpool winning by such a margin] and English teams didnât do well in Europe.â
Mention of PSG prompts him to add: âI was offered that job a few times.â And indeed Bayern, Real Madrid, Barcelona, Juventus, the France national team. How about Man Utd? âYes,â he says. When? âI donât tell you that.â He smiles. âBut I can tell you Man Utd offered me the job.â Please tell me when. âI donât tell you that,â he repeats more firmly.
The potential awkwardness is averted by the first of many passing fan requests for a picture. Wenger â or Monsieur Wenger as each supplicant respectfully calls him â is his usual impeccably polite and yet also slightly detached self each time. I feel bad now for calling you âArsĂšneâ, I tell him afterwards. âThatâs no problem at all,â he replies.
We go on to discuss his book. Did he write it himself? âYes, with help, but itâs me.â Itâs the first one heâs done, unusual in an age when players bring out their first memoir around the age of 24. âIâve been asked to do it for many years,â he says. âFor me it was very difficult. First of all, I donât like to talk too much about me. And second it was saying somewhere in my head, âI donât manage any more. Itâs the end of my experience.â And I donât like that. I didnât want to sound like Iâd retired. Then I thought, OK, I do it even if itâs only for my family [he separated from his wife, Annie, in 2015; they have one daughter, LĂ©a, 23] so they would know one day what I did in my life.â
Does he want to manage a club again? âIâm not sure.â Because when he left Arsenal, he sounded certain that he did. âYes. For 40 years I did only that every day in my life.â Two years on, he is enjoying having more time for himself. Whatâs he doing? âMaking some sport. Visiting my family and friends. Holidays. Reading a lot. Enjoying life but in a sensible way, because Iâm a little bit drilled by 30, 40 years of discipline, you know?â
I do know, having read in his book how he gets up at 5.30am and does an hour and a half in the gym, with extra cardio if possible. Most successful people, I say, are disciplined, but youâre . . . âSuper-disciplined?â he suggests. I tell him I was going to say âfanaticalâ. Is that fair? âFanatical, yes.â Most of us, including the famous, would recoil from the description. But Wenger chuckles, clearly relishing it. His early start comes after only five or six hoursâ sleep. His energy is prodigious. During lockdown, which he spent in Totteridge, the north London suburb he calls home, he ran â8-10k a dayâ.
Part of that stamina comes from a rural upbringing, roaming the fields around the village in Alsace where his parents ran a bar. He grew up speaking the Alsatian dialect and French and learnt German at school. Football dominated the bar and the village. Back then, however, the French professional game lacking the depth and structure long established in neighbouring countries, Wenger could not even dream of his future career. âIâd never seen a coach until I was 19. It is the surprise of my life to spend it in football.â
The other great influence on the young Wenger was the church. âI still have religious morality,â he says. âI still like to go to church. Itâs a place where you can concentrate. I watch Mass on television sometimes, but I cannot say I am a practising Catholic. God has a huge strength: you cannot prove that he doesnât exist. On the other hand you cannot prove he exists. Religion has been created from us. It is a way to be happy in life. God forgives you for your sins; in the future we go to paradise. We can focus on the present.â
When he first arrived in the UK, Wenger cut an unusual figure on the touchline. Dapper, ascetic, erudite, he was nicknamed the Professor by the initially sceptical old hands at Arsenal. Back in the days when neither foreign managers nor foreign players, with their more sophisticated ways, were the norm, Wenger looked suspiciously posh in the context of Englandâs doggedly proletarian culture. And in a way he was. He relates in his book, for instance, how when he first met Arsenalâs vice-chairman at the time, David Dein, he ended up acting out A Midsummer Nightâs Dream in a game of charades at Deinâs house. Hard to imagine Big Sam Allardyce in a similar role.
Back in 1996, Wengerâs insistence on the importance of concepts such as correct nutrition, radically reduced alcohol intake, regular sleep, stretching, mental preparation and resilience of character were met with scepticism. âWe want our Mars bars,â his squad would sing on the team bus. Then they started winning, and his rivals decided these newfangled notions of âinvisible trainingâ could have some merit and promptly copied them.
Ironically, all the time Wenger was trying to persuade Tony Adams, Paul Merson and co to swap booze for broccoli, he was hiding an unhealthy habit of his own: he smoked.
âYes, for a long time I smoked. My father smoked 40 a day. I grew up in a bar full of smoke. In France, smoking is normal.â Even so, he didnât start until he was 34. âA friend of mine was a heavy smoker. Weâd sit up at night talking and Iâd take one, you know? I still smoked when I came to England, one or two after dinner, no more.â Did the players know? âI donât think so. I never smoked with the team. Nobody has ever seen me smoking.â He has long since stopped â âMy daughter complaining, you know?â â but still enjoys a drink. âGood red wine, not much.â
We move on to politics, in which he takes a keen interest. Rather confusingly, he says, âI am new liberal right. Iâm for freedom but certain things â health, defence â have to be controlled by the government. I like [the French president Emmanuel] Macron. He is centre. Itâs very difficult to satisfy people in France. Itâs difficult to govern.â
Yes, I say. Every time the government tries to change anything thereâs a strike or a riot. Wenger shrugs. âI feel sorry for Macron, because he tries very hard.â He thinks the French commitment to short hours, long lunches, generous welfare, heavily subsidised agriculture and quite staggering bureaucracy is unsustainable.
âItâs like in a family,â he says, presumably unconsciously channelling Margaret Thatcher. âItâs OK as long as you can balance your budget. Until you have to pay. Then itâs not OK. With the debt we have now, we cannot continue like that, because the next generations will have to pay back. Itâs not a fair way.â He thinks the German commitment to balanced budgets is the example to follow. âWe behave like we want more and more no matter whether we balance our budget or not. Similarly in football.â
And what of his adopted country? âI love England. I feel sorry for England [he says that rather than Britain] because I am scared that they will suffer now [after Brexit]. Youâre in a very weak position to negotiate. England has made the choice for passion and the desire for sovereignty. I can understand that, but unfortunately it was not a rational decision. Iâm scared that they pay for that. Europe will have to make it hard for them or everybody will want to leave. They have no choice. I know [Michel] Barnier. He said from the first day they will be tough on England.â The irony of Brexit as regards football is, he says, âYou want sovereignty, but all the English clubs are run by people who are not English.â
Thereâs a sense Wenger is getting over the pain of enforced separation from the club where he âknitted my soul in red and whiteâ, as he puts it in his book. He likes his role with Fifa. âI can share what Iâve learnt in my life and hopefully be efficient in what I share,â he says. The first year was tough for other reasons too. âI lost my brother and my sister in six months. My sister had Alzheimerâs. She was not well for ten years. My brother died quite quickly.â Their loss has made him value time spent with his daughter all the more, visiting her frequently in Cambridge, where she is a research student in neuroscience.
âI would have respected my contract,â he says, looking back on his Emirates exit. âThe club thought it was better I stopped. Iâd always lived with the idea that could happen. The supporters were not happy any more. Some of them. You can understand that, at some stage, 22 years, people want a change.â I tell him Iâd interviewed Tony Blair shortly before he stepped down in 2007, how heâd said that after ten years, people are sick of your face. âAh, so I punished them for 12 years?â he jokes.
Does he now think he might have stayed too long? He pauses for quite a while. âListening to that question,â he replies, âmakes me think, âYes.â â Well, thatâs the consensus, isnât it? âMaybe I stayed too long,â he admits. âI donât know. But I was committed like on the first day. I think I guided the club through the most difficult period in a very successful way. At some stage people say youâre too old, but they donât really look at what you do. I served the club as much as I could.â
And served it to the exclusion of pretty much everything else. âI rejected those around me,â he writes. âI did not see beauty or pleasure or relaxation.â Infamously, he did not see any on-field skulduggery by his players either. When issuing his mantra in post-match interviews that he didnât see the sending off or penalty appeal, he now admits, âSometimes it wasnât true. Iâm a bad loser, yes. If youâre a good loser, you donât last a long time in this job. Thatâs something I had from birth. Iâm still like it. If I play cards, I want to win. You know what they say,â he adds, tapping me on the arm (he is surprisingly tactile). âWomen can kill for love and men because they hate to lose.â
His obsession was the reason he didnât become a father until he was 48. âI think basically this is a job for single people. I always cherish freedom. I had girlfriends, but my priority was always football. I liked the idea to take my luggage and go anywhere in the world tomorrow. At Cannes I lived over the Bay of Villefranche; when I was in Japan [in Nagoya, not a natural beauty spot] I had a view of a wall, but I always say if I won the game it was a great view and I was happy. If happiness is liking the life one lives, I can say I have been happy, and still am.â
Wrapping up our conversation, we deal with a few miscellaneous topics. He thinks Arsenalâs latest manager, his former player and Guardiola protĂ©gĂ© Mikel Arteta, has âgot the grip back on the team. They finished well, though they had a bad Premier League. Fifty-six points!â He thinks Englandâs national team are looking good for the Euros next year, bestowing the ultimate seal of approval on the manager in saying â[Gareth] Southgate analyses wellâ. He thinks the pandemic will have no long-term deflationary effect on transfer fees, wages or the relentlessly spiralling hype around the game. âAs soon as it is over, football will become mad again.â He worries, however, that âthe lower leagues will die unless the elite clubs help outâ.
And he also thinks that without fans, football âloses its charm. We can take the fans for granted, but they are the only thing that hasnât changed. The players, the game, the clubs, the stadiums all change. The fans donât. When you arrived at Highbury, on Avenell Road, you got out of the bus, you shared it with the fans. At the Emirates, you are inside, all the security, itâs not the same.â
The grand old stadium was redeveloped as flats after the club moved. Wenger seriously considered buying one. As it is, he volunteers just before we part, âI drive sometimes through Highbury. The entrance is still there, the gates are listed . . .â
And what does he feel? âI feel nostalgia,â he replies. âWe had good times there.â
My Life in Red and White: My Autobiography by ArsĂšne Wenger is published on October 13 (Weidenfeld & Nicolson, ÂŁ25)[/spoiler]
