Ball: Where did it go wrong for David Moyes?

Moyes was very much president Jokin Aperribay’s personal project. His availability last November proved too much of a temptation for a president enjoying the fruits of his own good husbandry; income from some high-profile transfers, and an increased cake-slice of Spain’s television revenue. Moyes himself, taking a sabbatical after the trauma of his Old Trafford experience, seemed undecided but Aperribay persisted and got his man on an initial 18-month agreement. Moyes was sold to the Real Sociedad fans as a man who would bring various things to the club. Firstly, he would steady the ship, and bring some rigour and discipline to the set-up. Secondly, he would use his knowledge of the market to bring over any promising players from the British scene. Thirdly, he would work with the youth set-up, a crucial part of the club’s tradition and identity. If his work on all three of these aspects was good, he could stay for as long as he liked, and become the club’s second John Toshack.

Moyes succeeded in the first objective as he guided the club to safety, pulling them up to 12th place by the end of the season.  In the other two objectives, he failed, although in his defence he did hand debuts to various youth-team aspirants, notably full-back Aritz Elustondo. But there was never any real connection to the other levels at the club. A coach from inside the club complained that Moyes had arrived, ‘smiled a bit, shook our hands and then proceeded to bring all his mates over from England’. Moyes brought over Billy Mckinlay as his second, and later Dave Billows as fitness coach. In an interview with ESPN earlier this season, Moyes described the whole scene as tickety-boo. The food was great, the city beautiful, his 5-star hotel just wonderful, and during the week he and Billy were free to jump in their car and drive around Spain scouting, watching opponents and ‘talking football’ (sic). Well – it was good to know that they weren’t talking about The Great British Bake-off, but Moyes revealed beautifully in the interview exactly why he was not destined to see his contract out. 

When you arrive in another footballing culture, with different ways of thinking and a different language, it’s often a good idea to attempt to understand it. Moyes was no fool – he knew this – but nobody had thought through the strategies required to put this into place. Driving around in your English-speaking bubble all week, slumming it with your full English breakfast every morning and then skipping your Spanish lessons because you have ‘no time’ (sic), is not a very constructive policy. Instead of taking on the cultural and linguistic challenge, Moyes shirked it – and everyone in the city began to see it. Moyes’ Spanish teacher told me that he’d begun with reasonable enthusiasm, but that the club had eventually begun to convert him into Moyes’ interpreter, after the official translator Erik Bretos was moved sideways into scouting. Of course, it’s not easy to learn a new language when you’re 52-years-old and a victim of Britain’s stubborn monolingual tradition, but there are strategies you can adopt – for example maintaining a Spanish speaker in your immediate team. The Spanish speaker just might know something about La Liga too. You can almost hear Homer screaming ‘Doh!’

When Asier Illarramendi was re-signed in a blaze of publicity from Real Madrid earlier this season, it was clear that Moyes had no idea who he was. Not good. Several articles this week have blamed Real Sociedad for naivete over Moyes, and of expecting too much from him – but it’s not as if they were paying him ten quid a week. When your salary is in the millions, you also have an obligation to do your homework. Moyes also confused the players, and talked them down publicly, as if the club’s aspirations for a place in Europe were just pie-in-the-sky. He was wrong – the squad is a good one – but in Spain, even if you think this, you never say it. It’s the unwritten law. He did bring stability and he did improve the defence, but you’d expect that from an ex centre-back. As far as attacking ideas went, he was either unable to communicate them, or he just didn’t have any. As they say – you decide. Manchester United did, and went for the pay off. 

(Moyes) failure has only served to increase the general impression that British coaches are not only behind the times, they are also disabled by a national system and culture that encourages them to think that everybody is actually out of step but them

More seriously, he took offence at strange things – suddenly dropping players without offering any explanation. Midfielder David Zurutuza, loved by the crowd, was dropped after a pre-season friendly at Zaragoza for addressing Moyes as ‘David’ – although Moyes had failed to make this clear to the players before. By the time Moyes realised that Zurutuza was vital to the team’s make-up, the season was already well under way and the midfield had become a strange and inconsistent mess, propped up only by the unilateral efforts of the excellent Illarramendi. 

Moyes’ friends in the British press have implied that Sociedad did not allow him to make the signings he wanted – but this is complete nonsense. Moyes went after two players – Danny Ings (then still at Burnley) and Arsenal’s Joel Campbell. The club worked tirelessly to sign them, but Ings was always more interested in the salary he would get from sitting on the bench at Liverpool, and Campbell knew that Wenger was beginning to rate him again. Sociedad were perhaps a little innocent on this score – imagining that half of Britain would leave its shores in a mad rush to work with Moyes, but they were starry-eyed about the Scot. He was a big name, and they fell for it. But that doesn’t excuse Moyes’ complete lack of understanding of how to adapt. The club should also have helped him, it’s true. But they indulged him, and they’ve paid the price. They won’t make the same mistake again.

Cup of tea, David (sorry, Gaffer)?
When Moyes arrived last November, I approached Aperribay through his son (who played football with mine) and told him that if Moyes was feeling a bit lonely, and wanted to talk La Liga, Basque culture and Real Sociedad in his own language – as well as take away a copy of my book ‘Morbo’ for homework, he was welcome to do so. We’d make him dinner, and none of the conversation would go any further than my front door. I wasn’t being cocky. I knew what it was like to be in a strange culture, not really understanding your surrounds. I’d been in San Sebastian 24 years, knew the club and its history (my son had played for the youth side), knew some of the players, and knew what the Basques thought about football. But I also remembered how difficult life was in the beginning. And I didn’t intend to give him a lecture, I just thought he might be interested in having a cuppa and a chat. Aperribay said yes, and that I was to wait for a call from the press officer. It never came.

Moyes never moved out of his hotel, never learned how to pronounce ‘Bilbao’ (Sociedad’s great rival), and left the team lacking in confidence and in some disarray. To his credit, he hasn’t blamed the club (yet) and he may well – in a quieter moment – realise that he missed a real opportunity to put the record straight on his talents as a coach. Sadly, his failure has only served to increase the general impression that British coaches are not only behind the times, but they are also disabled by a national system and culture that encourages them to think that everybody is actually out of step but them. In the end, the Basques felt patronised by Moyes. It shouldn’t have ended up that way. If he’d just come over for that cup of tea……