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A TWINGE OF REMORSE WITH YOUR SUCCESS SIR? - WHY ROBBO IS TONIGHT'S UNSUNG HERO
The Equaliser
On the eve of the self-styled 'Greatest Night in the Club's History' it might be an appropriate time for fans to pause and appreciate the contribution of a man who, as much as anyone, helped craft the vibrant, forward-looking entity that is Middlesbrough Football Club today: Bryan Robson.
When the former England captain accepted his first managerial post in the summer of 1994, Middlesbrough was a moribund second-tier team from whom little was expected - both by its long-suffering fans and by the wider football world. With the appointment of Robson by ambitious young Chairman Steve Gibson, the club's visibility increased exponentially. Robson had been a leader on the pitch for England (the best since Bobby Moore) and intense media interest came in the wake of his first foray into management. Many Man Utd fans adopted Middlesbrough as their 'second team' - a mixed blessing from our point of view.
There is an oft-reproduced photo of Robson on the day of his appointment, standing on the Ayresome Park pitch holding aloft a Boro scarf. There is a confidence and a determination about his demeanor familiar to those whose teams he represented during his much-decorated career. But there is also a glint in his eye which hints at a private knowledge that is suggestive of a strong intuition that destiny was about to unfold something special.
Of course that intuition was backed up by calculation: in Steve Gibson, Robson had found a straight-talking contemporary very much like himself who was desperate to bring honours to his hometown club and was prepared to back his manager with his own money. In addition a new stadium was being built. Nevertheless, in his first season Robbo delivered. Boro were promoted and whilst he'd smashed the transfer record by paying £1 million for Neil Cox, far more important was the momentum generated, both amongst staff and fans, through the aura of achievement he brought with him. For the old gadgies who'd stood on the South Terrace railing against the Fates as repeated false dawns would evanesce beyond the old clock in the North Stand, the glass had been perpetually half empty. Robson's presence changed that culture decisively.
During Robson's reign the southern-dominated press made much of the millions he lavished on less-than-interested foreigners, and when one recalls mystifying purchases such as Ricard, Branca and Karembeu, it's not hard to see why. Two things must be said in mitigation however. Firstly, one has to remember the context of the time. The creation of the Premiership and the patronage of Sky had precipitated a climate of profligacy in football. Chairmen were throwing money around like there was no tomorrow, and many clubs are still paying the price today. It was a time when Derby manager Jim Smith would say to his Chairman, 'I've just had Blackburn on the phone. They want Christian Dailly.'
'Don't accept less than £2.5 million.'
'They've offered 6.5.'
Yes, Robson was somehow inveigled into paying £1.75 million for Phil Whelan, but he wasn't the only one doing it. Secondly, for every duff purchase Robson made, he made two shrewd ones. The buying of Barmby upon winning promotion signalled our intent. Pallister, Cooper and Ince brought steel and commitment, and whilst Boksic, Emerson and Ravanelli brought arrogance and disdain that at times turned us into a laughing stock, it's hard to blame Robson for someone else being a wanker. And is there any Boro fan who, when these guys chose to perform, didn't have to rub his or her eyes in disbelief that such obvious class was wearing a Boro strip? Robson, in short, brought fantasy into the humdrum world of Middlesbrough F.C., and one act above all others was the catalyst for that transformation and was moreover an act which is a mark of the man.
When Robbo had sat on the bench at Wembley as Terry Venables' assistant and watched a young Brazil side samba round a leaden England, a boyish-looking midfielder had caught his eye. When, in October 1995, it was made known to Robson that his Brazilian club was prepared to sell him, Robson got on a plane and flew the eleven hours to Brazil. Many bigger clubs than Boro wanted Juninho, but when Robson, a player much admired in Brazil both for his gifts and his mentality strode in, shook the diminutive one's hand and said: 'I'm Bryan Robson, I want you to sign for my club,' a chapter was begun that, all being well, will see a glorious denouement this evening.
Robson's handshake would not have been a limp one. Juninho saw a man of integrity and courage - an integrity that Juninho himself would mirror in his three spells at the club. A man who, despite frequent tactical and financial errors, took Middlesbrough to three cup finals in two seasons when previously they'd been to none in 120, and who established the club as a solid middleweight. A man who, it should be noted never criticised his players publicly, even obliquely, even when they arguably deserved it - such was his sense of loyalty. History may well offer up the conclusion that, as I've expressed before, Robson was a great Captain but a less than great General; but should the Boro triumph tonight, it would be a spectacular act of churlishness to fail to appreciate the part he had to play in it all.
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