He was a player, a nightclub singer, one of the lads loosening that tie. Oh – and England manager.

He was El Tel. He was the bloke that knew about Sheringham and believed in Anderton. He really probably was a Wide Boy, but most of us didn’t really care because his football ideas were kinda great and any idiot could see that the lads loved him.

Terence. A name of its time and location. Maybe bit sarfy, bit boozy, bit likeably bobby and weavy. Common but also showy – even show-bizzy? Hardly sophisticated, more redolent of nights out or misadventures than nights in over a good book, but (maybe like Shankly/Clough/Bobby Robson?) there was intelligence relevant-to-the-task in the armoury. Acute intelligence: we might even cross over into philosophic intelligence, because Venables, despite sharing in the traditional Brotherhood of Gaffers capacity to intuit, was a shade more modern than those other blokes.

Robson, of course also went to Barcelona, and was also a great and original coach, loved by some very talented, high-profile players. He also managed England, intermittently with real distinction. But Venables, perhaps because he blurred those lines between mentorship and friendship a little more, and still drove playing-styles and formations forward, was unique. Tel – or El Tel – could push or persuade the pattern convincingly. The players did love him and did believe.

There’s rightly been a return to the Netherlands Moment, since Venables departed for that nightclub in the sky. It was a triumph for him and for a beautiful, rather un-English way of playing. The emphatic finish from Shearer, after Sheringham’s fabulous, weighted pass lives long in the memory for a chunk of us. It was the punctuation mark for the shift towards fluency and skill and tactical freedom that Venables stood for and aspired to. He made it possible because of that combination of personal charisma – who better to ‘put an arm round?’ – and a genuinely cultured understanding of strategy. England had done ‘limited’, largely, for decades. Venables brought liberation.

He was lucky to have players, sure. But not only did he select well (and boldly), he got into their heads. It’s one thing to know you’re good enough to play in any league on the planet; entirely another to form a team that looks full of that confidence, however fleetingly. Venables persisted with teams featuring *all of* Anderton/Gascoigne/Sheringham/Shearer/McManaman. At a time when it still might be tempting to view both ‘wide men’ as potential luxuries.

It’s true that his defence looked ver-ry ‘trad England’: Seaman/Neville/Adams/Southgate/Pearce, but both fullbacks liked to fly forward, if only to deliver crosses (asyadid, back then). Besides, the role of these stout fellas – probably the best available, in any case – was to facilitate enterprise up the park, via yer Gascoignes and Sheringhams. Venables did make the Three Lions watchable… and in that daft way of sporty things, this felt important.

Cheers, Tel. xxx

Pic via Daily Mail.