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Hollywood casting agents should turn to the benches of the World Cup as there is untapped talent by the truck-load. And strange as it sounds, we're not banging on about the players here (although some of those have honed the art of falling over to magisterial levels). No, we're talking about the trainers. And next time a game's on, imagine that the slick-suited guy nervously pacing the touch-line is not in fact a football boss, but a boss of an altogether different kind. In short, he's the chap you don't ask tricky questions - the Black Hand, Cosa Nostra. Mark our words, as soon as the match finishes he'll be ladling out meatballs to his 'footballers' and plotting the next bank-robbery.
Why is it that football managers look so much like the Joe Pesci character in a Scorsese film? The resemblance is uncanny. There are the slick suits, the smoothed back hair, the high octane gestures, the air of intense constipation, the exasperated rolls of the eyes as one of the boys gets into a scrape with the referee. These guys are dead ringers. And then there are the whispered asides which we ignorant television viewers can only guess at. Just what is the second-in-command saying to his boss during those hushed, knowing exchanges on the bench? Is No. 2 suggesting that a fresh player should be brought onto the pitch, or is he just passing on information that Johnnie 'The Hat' sleeps with the fishes?
Of course, mafia bosses and football trainers have a great deal in common besides mere appearances. It goes without saying that managing a soccer team is a high-stress job, where you have to be braced for the unexpected. Both types of boss have to control decidedly unruly gangs of young bucks - lads who don't always do as they're told. Tempers will run high, and of course, there are high maintenance wives and girlfriends to contend with.
It's difficult to single out one particular football manager as the absolute capo di tutti, as they all have their own merits, (although blonde-haired Jurgen Klinnsman doesn't really cut it). Could it be Sven 'The Shark' Erikkson? No, he's not quite there, although he does have a certain blade-like quality. Or perhaps it's Poland's very own Pawel Janas - he has a distinct air of menace, and you could well imagine him running someone through with a sabre. But maybe it's Argentina's suave Jose Pekerman, the kind of card who knows his wines as well as his weapons. All good choices, but it would be hard to match Ecuador's Luis Fernando Suarez, whose blazing pitch-side manner would raise even De Niro's eyebrows. Of course, off the pitch, Senor Suarez is probably as gentle as a lamb, and no doubt a keen tiddlywinks player. But on pitch, he's a simmering volcano, as formidable as King Kong himself. Scorsese take note.
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