Harry's Game: if Harry Redknapp became the England manager (episode two)

 New coach Niko Kranjčar led the sing-song from the front of the coach:

“We’re on the highway to hell…sinki!”

Much merriment could be noticed as the England squad headed for the Finnish capital. Their hotel was a rather old building, with the distinct feeling that bodies had been buried somewhere under the floorboards. The adjacent AstroTurf pitches looked like they hadn’t been overhauled since Just Fontaine was in his prime.

“Me and Kevin Bond have coached in some right swamps in our time, but this really is the back of beyond! Niko, do you want to take the warm-up, my boy?”

Redknapp’s Croatian assistant sported a collection of red-and-white-checked tracksuit tops, with long sleeves to cover the scar on his left arm – caused by a soldering mishap during a school metalwork lesson (years later, his teacher slipped and fell on a live electrical board. Karma!)

In order to shatter the canard that ‘Arry doesn’t do tactics, the day’s training exercise comprised a tactical segment entitled “Total Tactics Truck”. For disclaimer purposes, it bears no similarity to, affiliation with, or obligation towards “Townsend’s Tactics Truck”, a long-forgotten section of ITV’s The Premiership where incidents in and around the penalty box were replayed and discussed – very much so in fact, and I tell you what, very few people, for me, seem to have any recollection of it, at the end of the day, so it is what it is. Better, much better.

Essentially, the England players were instructed to attack Finland throughout the match. This tactic paid off, as an early second-half strike proved to be the match’s only goal. The great man’s verdict: “We were all over them. It could have been 6 or 7, and if it wasn’t for their keeper Antti Niemi we’d be looking at that kind of scoreline. Top top class all round!”

Despite being oblivious to the fact that Niemi had long since retired, Redknapp was in jocular mood on the return flight, and found himself sitting next to none other than the great Clive Tyldesley. Upon asking where his longtime aide Andy Townsend was, Clive informed ‘Arry that he had been locked away in a vault at the back of the plane, to conduct his tactical analysis on his own (a concept supported by all at ITV).

The momentum continued as Kazakhstan were blown away by 4 second-half goals at Wembley (their coach invited his England counterpart to sample his wife’s homemade cheese at half-time), then an all-teenage England XI stuck 7 past poor old San Marino. Triffic!

On the way back from Serravalle, another Redknapp allocution, this time on formations. It made bold statements such as “4-3-3 is to 4-4-2 what MDF is to wood: a contrived yet superior alternative”. It also asked meaningful, philosophical questions such as “why is 4-2-3-1 a load of dross?”

“Oh, it’s going great, Sandra. Top class! I’ve already mastered the use of the ‘Freeze’ facility on the interactive whiteboard, so I set the questions to display on the board and played Minesweeper for half an hour. Hey-hey, this England gig is a piece of cake!

Ah yes, Brendan. I’m just prac---yes, I am sure I want to quit the application. Bloody PowerPoint! I’m just practising his signature over and over again, so I can forge it properly on the contract. He hasn’t agreed to be my number two yet, but I’m sure he will.

Look Sandra, by any sensible analysis, my coaching ability is at least 7 notches higher than any old-school English manager you could name. Yep, like Peter Reid…and John Gregory. Paul Jewell, yes…they’ve had their time to destroy creative footballers with their braindead, insipid way of playing. Now it’s my turn, and woe betide the Director of Football try to tell me how to play! No-one’s suggesting he’s going to do that, but you never know…no, I don’t want to turn on Sticky Keys! Sorry, kept pressing the Shift key then”.