#1 ·
I was thinking about this last night after watching some old highlights. There's this weird, lingering bitterness that seems to follow so many legendary figures when they move from being the face of a club to being the guy in the dugout.
It always feels like there's a massive disconnect between the loyalty a person shows a team and the way the organization eventually handles the exit. You see these guys give everything to the badge, literally bleeding for it during their playing days, only to be treated like a temporary fix or a placeholder once they transition into management. It feels incredibly hollow when a long-term relationship with a fanbase ends on a sour or abrupt note because of boardroom decisions that have nothing to do with the actual spirit of the club.
Don't you think it's a bit disrespectful to the history of the sport when "legacy" players get the short end of the stick once they try to lead from the sidelines? Does the "business side" of things always eventually kill the sentimentality?
It always feels like there's a massive disconnect between the loyalty a person shows a team and the way the organization eventually handles the exit. You see these guys give everything to the badge, literally bleeding for it during their playing days, only to be treated like a temporary fix or a placeholder once they transition into management. It feels incredibly hollow when a long-term relationship with a fanbase ends on a sour or abrupt note because of boardroom decisions that have nothing to do with the actual spirit of the club.
Don't you think it's a bit disrespectful to the history of the sport when "legacy" players get the short end of the stick once they try to lead from the sidelines? Does the "business side" of things always eventually kill the sentimentality?