Iâll quit if I canât put this right By STEVE BRENNER Published: 5 minutes ago 0 MARTIN OâNEILL insists he will quit if his Sunderland nightmare continues. The Mackems boss travels to Fulham today desperate to end a confidence-sapping run of just ONE Premier League win in 18. That solitary three points came this season and although they have lost just three times, OâNeillâs shot-shy Black Cats have bagged just seven goals. Thatâs a pathetic amount considering Martin Jolâs men have chalked up 24 already. A brilliant initial salvage job last season has failed to ignite Sunderland this campaign. OâNeill, who joined the club in December 2011 after Steve brice got the boot, is confident he can turn it around and only has to think back to mentor Brian Cloughâs poor start to his Nottingham Forest reign. Old Big âEad struggled badly before landing domestic and European glory. OâNeill could do with some Cloughie magic right now and admitted: âI want to do really well here at the football club. âItâs slow but I donât want it to be a decade because I wonât get the time, but weâll get there. That is my genuine view. âThere is a timescale because I have a contract. And if I have not lifted the side into a proper position, I will move over and give it to someone else, who would be better equipped. But that hasnât happened yet.â Heaven knows what Clough would have thought of the Ulstermanâs current Mackems crop but OâNeill added: âIt sounds crazy but before Peter Taylor joined him, he had a year and a half at Forest where he did not improve the team one jot. We may even have gone backwards. âWe were struggling as a mid-table Second Division side until Peter joined up with him and he got renewed vigour. âWe had plenty of bad times and he just told us to stick in together. Lesser managers probably said the same thing, but when he said it, you felt there was something behind it. âAnd that is what we must do and weâll come through it.â The former Celtic boss, 60, rubbished claims his stand-off management style is to blame and admitted: âIt makes me laugh about this myth that I donât go on the training ground. âI wish that was so. I allow my coaches to coach but Iâm there â thereâs no more important time to be there than when youâre having a tough spell.â Read more: http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepag...d-if-I-cant-put-this-right.html#ixzz2CWpYXQeC IMO, this kind of story isnt helping matters. Far from clarifying the situation and bringing stability, I think this kind of story and interview weakens Martins position and creates a lot of uncertainty both for players and fans. Is he committed? Does he want to see the job out? My opinion is that he does but this is casting doubts. However, the biggest telling comment by Martin is about Clough's first 18 months at Forest âIt sounds crazy but before Peter Taylor joined him, he had a year and a half at Forest where he did not improve the team one jot. We may even have gone backwards. âWe were struggling as a mid-table Second Division side until Peter joined up with him and he got renewed vigour. âWe had plenty of bad times and he just told us to stick in together. Lesser managers probably said the same thing, but when he said it, you felt there was something behind it. âAnd that is what we must do and weâll come through it.â If that's not a cry for Robertson to come and join him then I don't know what is and for me, this should be the number one target this January. Get Robbo.
The difference between Taylor and Robbo is, MON will want Robbo for his coaching for our young wingers. Taylor was one of those rare people who could find round pegs to fit in round holes and was very good at it. If a square peg turned up, Cloughie had the knack of rounding off the edges.
Fully agree, he needs a right hand man, problem is, Robbo doesn't want to come. He's got issues with his personal life at the minute and after reading what the bloke has gone through, then i can't say that i blame him either. Forget Robbo, he isn't coming, but we do need someone and fast.
Not exactly sure when it was posted but there was an article on here about him, very good read as well mate worth searching out. Lost a daughter and basically had **** loads of bad luck which has taken his focus away from football. I'll try and search it out and post it on here.
Sounds like a really sad tale kidda. Didnt know about any of that tbh and if true then no wonder he isnt interested in football at this time.
John suffered a tragedy in October 1996 when his 13-year-old daughter Jessica died. Jessica had been born in 1983 with cerebral palsy, which left her quadriplegic and unable to speak or control her movements. She had a short life expectancy. In 1994, Robertson and his former wife Sally had challenged the hospital where Jessica was born for damages, claiming that they had caused her brain damage by a 12-hour delay to carry out a Caesarean section. However, they lost their High Court case and the opportunity of compensation of up to £700,000. [1] That is from Wiki mind.
http://www.heraldscotland.com/sport...on-interview-whatever-happened-to-jr.19239511 Here you go mate.
http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/sport/football/john-robertson-if-martin-oneill-calls-1087402 Although a year old, it would seem he was interested in linking up with Martin back in Nov 2011 http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/spor...ohn-robertson-to-sunderland-72703-31180216/2/ And is in contact now and watching SAFC games? Maybe a more permanent solution is at hand but he is still part of Martins staff, albeit off the record. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/fo...in-ONeill-backs-Sunderland-stadium-plans.html And is obviously very much part of Martins thinking.
Cant open it mate. However, I have just looked a Wiki and it says his daughter died in 1996? This wouldn't be affecting his current status as he has worked with MoN?
There'd be none happier on here than me (well, maybe you) i'd luv to see him come to us, i really would, i think he'd be the final piece in the jigsaw. I just hope it happens and soon.
THE various interpretations of the John Robertson physiognomy would suggest that an oil painting may never be commissioned.Certainly, his Nottingham Forest manager Brian Clough didn't remember him as the most attractive man on the planet: "If I was feeling off colour, I'd go and sit next to him and I was bloody Errol Flynn by comparison." . His life has not been without tragedy, but during his football career John Robertson has had much to celebrate after winning the European Cup with Forest in 1979 (main); scoring for Scotland in 1981 (top right) and cheering a Celtic goal Photographs: Getty/SNS His former Forest colleague, Kenny Burns, takes the barbs into cutting edge territory: "Robbo disnae like going into Tescos, 'cos he has as many lines on his face as a barcode – and the machines keep going off when he's near them." Setting aside all the dressing-room humour, there were and are, of course, redemptive qualities about being John Robertson. As Clough pointed out: "Give him a ball and a yard of grass, and he was an artist: the Picasso of our game." Those qualities assume even more status when you consider how he insists on living his life nowadays. By rights, he should be an influential component of the world's most profitable football league: England's Premier League. Some months ago, he was presented with an opportun- ity to resume his iconic partnership with Martin O'Neill at Sunderland. The fact he resisted it illustrates a welcome trend of self-sacrifice. Today, Robertson appears to have weaned himself off the football narcotic. He is comforted by his mem-ories: those great playing days with Forest and Scotland; the all-conquering managerial moments with Celtic. He plays tennis three times a week – "I wish I played like Andy Murray" – and more if anyone is willing to indulge that passion. He particularly enjoys listening to Bryan Ferry music and watching Clint Eastwood films. But, above all, he ensures his family unit stays tight. Family means more to him than most of his fellow obsessives. In 1979, his brother Hugh and his sister-in-law died in a car crash. "My niece Gillian, who was only eight at the time, was in the backseat and she survived. As for Hugh, I didn't see him very often, but we always had a drink when I was in Scotland and were close. It leaves a helluva void in your life. In the end, his death killed my dad. He lasted only a year or so after it. He went downhill quickly." Sixteen years ago this month, Robertson's daughter Jessica, who suffered from cerebral palsy, passed away. "You don't get over that," he says quietly. "The only thing I can say is that it wasn't unexpected. We knew she wouldn't outlive us, but it was still, a terrible, terrible thing. She was a gorgeous little girl. I think about her every day. I go up to the cemetery every week with flowers. I feel that's the least I can do. I have a five-minute cigarette with her. I tell her I love her." Robertson's mood is fragile. I have no wish to exploit that fragility, but I am attempting to explore the depth of the man. He placed a letter beside her when she was in the chapel of rest. What had he said in the letter? "I put it in the coffin, yeah. I didn't reveal the contents in my book. But, basically, I thanked her for choosing me to be her dad." Shifting into the here and now, people were looking for conspiracy theories when the O'Neill-Robertson axis failed to re-engage. Their attempts to add two to two ended in farcical multiples of the correct answer. "My son Andrew was just beginning his A levels and I wasn't going to uproot him to go up to Sunderland. I didn't want to be travelling up and down the motorway, either. Besides, I hadn't really enjoyed the last year at Villa. "I don't know how Martin keeps going like he does. We'd been 16 years together and the only year we had out was when we left Celtic – the year before we went to Villa. It was like a non-stop carousel. I needed a longer time away." But O'Neill did offer him the job? "Oh, yes, yes, yes. There was no problem about that. It didn't take me particularly long [to say no], though. To do the job like we did at Celtic, we had to be up there, I felt. I just didn't want to do that. I wasn't ready because of my boy's situation, and I think Jessica's death might have had something to do with this: it made me more aware of family responsibilities. I love spending time with them. Jessica's death gave me more perspective. The kids give me great joy. I think that's what we're here for – to procreate and keep the human race going." If I'm honest, I cannot say I was at all anxious initially to interview Robertson. I relied, in my ignorance, on preconceptions and never believed there was much depth to him. It seemed Robertson was just an adjunct, and a rather silent adjunct, to the voluble and excitable O'Neill; an optional extra, if you like. You rarely saw him interviewed, or say anything substantial.That opinion changed when his book, John Robertson: Super Tramp, came out this year. It's an absorbing autobiography in that it doesn't attempt to scandalise all and sundry. What makes it even more laudable is the fact that his ghost writer is Nottingham journalist John Lawson. Robertson was insisting on repaying a favour. It was Lawson who recommended Robertson when Clough was new in the Forest job. The loyalty card is therefore important to him. The memory of his first meeting with Clough is at the top of his memory board. "We're all sitting in a square-shaped dressing room. Suddenly, this bloke came flying round the corner out of nowhere and, as he came in, he was whipping his jacket off. This was a whirlwind and you knew this lad meant business." Clough wasn't exactly complim-entary about him. Didn't he call him a tramp? "Yeah, all the Super Tramp business came from how he described me to people. When he first came, I wasn't doing the best for myself. I was languishing, feeling sorry for myself. Then when Peter [Taylor] came, he pulled me apart when we were in Germany. The gaffer said Pete was going to have a word. The first thing he [Taylor] said was 'You!' I wasn't sure if he was pointing at me or not. But I soon found out. 'You eff off back to the hotel!' I was dumfounded. He said he'd speak to me later. I was to wait by the pool. So I just got up and worried my way back to the hotel. Later, he asked me what my problem was. I said I didn't know what he meant. He said: 'I watched you last night in the warm-up and you did three stretches of one groin and three of the other. You stood around. You're overweight, you're scruffy, so again: 'What's your problem'?" Robertson's problem was that he imagined the whole world was ganging up against him: self-delusion was at work. He started to watch his weight; he even tried to smarten himself up a bit. "That didn't work out too well, did it? Bryan Ferry's my hero. I tried to model myself on him, but somehow it never worked on me. I don't think I had the shape." It is time for intemperance. What part did the booze play in his life? "Booze? Listen, anyone who knows me well will tell you that this is all make believe. Whenever I had a drink, I was loud. People used to come up and say: 'I saw you on the whisky last week.' Well, I've never drunk whisky in my life. It's give the dog a bad name. That's why I went for that title on my book. "It was John [Lawson] who came up with the name. I was a bit sceptical. I was trying to get away from that image, being in management and that. But the problem is people always mention drink. But someone once pointed out that if you get a reputation for getting up early, you can lie in bed all day. So, I thought I'm never going to get rid of this image, so I might as well go for this title." Burns provides an independent verdict on that consumption. He says Robertson used to drink Campari and soda. So, he was no such thing as a barfly? "No. And anyone who knows me well will tell you that. I'm still the same now. If I have a drink once a week, that's it." What does (or rather did) he bring to the managerial table? What's his forte? Those are better questions, he decides. "I'm more of a watcher than a coach. I didn't interfere too much in training: we liked it to flow rather than have stop-start situations, because players get stale or fed up when there are interruptions every two minutes. I was a sounding board. My job was done more in the office when we were together. Martin would ask me what I thought and I'd give him my honest opinion." Sounds like Clough and Taylor? "Well, you could say it was a bit similar. Peter was never one for getting the tracksuit on. A lot of their stuff was done in a room when they were bouncing ideas off each other. You know, they were fantastic people. Their deaths made me extremely sad. If they hadn't come along, I don't think I would have done anything."
Okay, got it opened. I reckon he wants a proper time away but I still think he is involved by the sounds of my articles? Maybe not full time but as a listening board which is what he did at all the previous clubs? Who knows what may happen in the future though?
Anyone who has read MoNs interview on sky will see how this has been twisted to sensationalize the headline. He doesn't say he'll walk away. He talks about turning it around and the end of his contract .
From the sidelines it seems to me MON is concerned about his good mate and what he has had to contend with. MON has had problems with his wife's health and now this comes up probably thinking its a kick in the teeth for them both. Personally I'd ask the lad if he fancied it part time as someone said a sort of sounding board for MON and, if not let it lie and give the lad time to get over it however much he can.
He is right to have patience. My only criticism would be that unless he is aware of an imminent change in Robertsons situation, there are plenty of good options out there. He's clearly indicating he'd like him in but he has to be careful of not putting all the eggs in that basket.
