Pic: Andy Nunn
I ALREADY had plenty of respect for Rafa Benitez, but last May that respect grew into admiration. Exactly two months after he succeeded Steve McLaren at St James' Park, his Newcastle team, listing badly for most of the season, disappeared beneath the Premier League waves.
But, like the stoic captain of the Titanic, Benitez kept his position on the bridge, choosing not to jump ship, refusing to barge women and children out of the way as he made for the lifeboats.
Instead, for a man who just a few months prior had been marshalling his Real Madrid troops for El Clásico, he prepared himself for at least one season in the Championship, swapping Barcelona and Bilbao for Brentford and Burton Albion.
This was a man who regarded embarking on a fresh challenge to be of more spiritual worth than merely protecting his reputation. I have the same respect for those individuals who, despite playing careers spent in the upper echelons of English football, choose to spend their after-lives down in the semi-professional ranks.
Last weekend, I stood near the dug-outs at Mangotsfield United to study the behaviour of the visiting manager. The voice echoing out across the Doug Hillard Sports Ltd Stadium was a familiar one, even if its tone wasn't.
These days, we know Steve Claridge to be the occasionally acerbic but generally laidback FiveLive pundit. But stick him in his Salisbury FC manager's tracksuit and he transforms into a whirling dervish of emotion – passionate and potty-mouthed.
Admittedly, as director of, and investor in, the phoenix club, he's got a vested interest, but you do get the sense he wouldn't want to be anywhere else than conducting his troops on the Salisbury touchline.
Challenge
And certainly the success he's had with the club in the two years of its existence, coupled with the wisdom and insight he's gained from his lengthy service as both player and co-commentator, would make him an attractive proposition to a managerless League club.
(Indeed, some quarters were touting him to replace Gianfranco Zola at his old employer Birmingham City before Harry Redknapp came sniffing.)
Peter Beadle is in a similar position over at Hereford, another two-year-old phoenix club striding through the divisions.
The obvious job for someone like him would be an assistant manager's role at a well-established League club. But instead of a full-time, comfortably remunerated position, the challenge of being the part-time top dog lower down the food chain is of greater appeal.
In their time, neither Claridge nor Beadle would have earned the kind of money that would have seen them minted for life, a retirement of first-class travel, entourages or homes on every continent. Neither would have wanted it, either.
Both are grafters, hands-on managers who like the feel of dirt under their fingernails. And their efforts mean the rewards are spiritually greater.
The pleasure and worth of the Non-League world also extends to those former top-flight players still reluctant to hang up their boots.
Julio Arca might be the obvious example, but I strongly expect that he's never played football with as big a smile on his face than he currently does at all-conquering South Shields.
Over at Tadcaster Albion, the same can probably be said of Jonathan Greening, a treble-winner with Man Utd but now a midfield general going into battle every week in the NPL Division One. By his own admission, this is a man “enjoying football in its purest form”.
The rewards lower down the pyramid can be as great, or even greater, than those of the pro days.
When the ex-captain of Bulgaria, Stiliyan Petrov, returned to the game after fighting leukaemia, the medal he subsequently won with his Sunday team in the Central Warwickshire Over 35s League took on huge significance.
“It will go next to my UEFA Cup medal,” he said. “It is more valuable than everything else. It is priceless.”
Nige Tassell is the author of The Bottom Corner: A Season With The Dreamers Of Non-League Football (Yellow Jersey Press)
