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| | season is hearing people
whose interests don’t
normally run beyond
classical music and
social policy suddenly
start discoursing
eloquently about the
pros and cons of the
1-5-3 formations – and
just as suddenly stop.
But what struck me
was how the real
differences between the
teams seemed to have
very little to do with
football at all. Take
the infamous penalty
shoot-out. Fans are
regularly disgusted by
the inability of their
heroes – men who are,
after all, paid millions
purely to kick footballs
– to perform this simple
task. More practice,
they cry! We have been
practising, replies
Sven. But does anyone
believe that someone
like Frank Lampard can
actually get physically
better at this task if
he just puts a few hours
in?
A good motivational
trainer or NLP
practitioner could sort
this one out in minutes,
even if they didn’t even
know what a penalty kick
was. England’s
management have failed
to resolve the issue in
eight years, because
they see it as a
footballing problem – so
the answer must be: more
football.
What I shall call the
“more X” factor is a
common failing among
businesses too. Having
decided on a strategy –
X – and found it to be | |
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| | falling short, the
answer is simple: “more
X” (and then more, and
more, until the market
puts you out of your
misery). In the case of
England and Sven Goran
Eriksson, the paradox
that has everyone
scratching their heads
is how, in an era when
England seems to have
been particularly
blessed with superstar
performers, did we
underperform so
spectacularly?
No-one who’s followed
the business world for
any number of years
should be in the least
surprised by this. How
many dream team mergers
end in cruel
disappointment? How many
superior products are
eclipsed by weaker
technologies?
England’s Betamax
team met its VHS nemesis
in Phil Scolari’s
Portugal. Here a team of
good but not spectacular
players – market value
$228m – saw off
$450m-worth of top
Premiership talent. You
might argue that that’s
a fatuous way to rank
teams, but the
tournament was in fact
won by the priciest:
Italy at $483m. Is
Scolari a genius,
capable of turning
average players into a
world-class team, while
our Sven’s talent is to
forge brilliant
individuals into a
second-rate unit?
The short answer is
yes, but I wonder
whether things would | |
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| | have been different if
the roles had been
reversed. Would Scolari,
like Sven, have been so
mesmerised by the wealth
of talent on offer that
he fell for the “more X”
factor? Despite the
talent on tap, the “more
X” factor led to an
overwhelming stress on
the availability of our
absolutely top strikers
as the key to our
success (and also sent
out the powerful
subliminal message:
without them, we’re
****ed).
Here’s a
controversial thought:
if Rooney and Owen had
never gone to Germany,
we might have won the
World Cup. The lack of
overwhelming class on
paper might – I say
might – have led to some
more creative strategies
on the field.
Sport for me has
always been about
beating people who are
better than you are. As
in sport, so in
business. Consultants
sometimes rail about the
poor quality of some of
the clients they work
with, but what could be
more satisfying than
taking a bunch of
underachievers and
running rings round a
sleek and expensively
headhunted opposition.
Companies that bring in
consultants are often
derided as weak, but in
my view it’s a strength
to be brave enough to
admit to having
weaknesses and to do
something about it | |
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| | (particularly if that’s
my money tied up in your
shares).
Sport and sport
coaching offers a whole
bunch of metaphors for
consultants. I’d like to
see consultants doing
more work with sporting
teams – I seem to
remember Andersen
Consulting had a good
run with Glamorgan
Cricket Club some years
back. Or perhaps there
could be a TV programme
which pitted consultancy
techniques against the
“more X” factor. You
could call it The
B-team: take a team of
consultants with no
sporting knowledge, give
them a bunch of
no-hopers and pitch them
against the best (if
anyone is interested in
developing this project,
please send details of
proposed salary and
attractive female
co-presenter to the
usual address).
And maybe the message
will get through.
Companies, like sports
teams, often believe the
route to success lies in
(expensively) assembling
the right ingredients:
with this (CEO, sales
team, products) how can
(did) we lose? And
meanwhile craftier – and
better – rivals will
continue to cruise past
them. Be the best? Nah.
Beat the best. Much more
satisfying.
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| | By Mick James
Well, what a stunning
period of sport we’ve
just had: Nadal lined up
against Roger Federer in
the Wimbledon
championships, while
Argentina and Brazil put
on a dazzling display of
their silky South
American footballing
skills in the final of
the World Cup. Hang, on,
that didn’t happen, did
it? Damn. I’ve got to
stop writing these
things so far in
advance.
It’s odd though,
isn’t it, how rarely the
members of the Wimbledon
seeding committee are
made to look like fools.
Football tournaments,
however, rarely go
according to plan, and
the last World Cup was
no exception.
I should add here
that I know next to
nothing about football,
aside from the instant
expertise conferred on
everyone by a few weeks
of blanket World Cup
coverage. Indeed, one of
the bizarre joys of the | |
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