In Rio de Janeiro, they call Joel Santana “The Fireman” and the “Miracle Man”.
And after he rescued Brazil’s biggest club from relegation, the fans canonised him as “San Joel de Flamengo” (Saint Joel of Flamengo).
Santana is a fixer: when a big Rio club is in crisis, they call him. His speciality is restoring lost morale with charismatic, unpretentious authority.
“Joel is a geezer,” says O Globo’s London correspondent Fernando Duarte. “He is funny, laid-back, plain-speaking: a typical Carioca (a citizen of Rio de Janeiro). He loves walking on the beach and talking to fans. He’s a man of the people. He never wears a suit: the most sophisticated clothing I’ve seen him wearing is a Polo shirt,” says Duarte.
“Joel gets close to his players, and identifies with them. I wouldn’t be surprised if the first thing he did in SA was invite all his players to a barbecue at his house.”
Even that coach-hater Romario (who played under him at Flamengo, Fluminense and Vasco da Gama) loves Santana.
And this week, his Flamengo players greeted the news of his imminent departure for SA with shock and dismay.
“We are going to lose a great father,” said midfielder Toro. “But we will try to win for him and to give our lives for him in the Copa Libertadores.”
“I feel like I am losing someone at home,” said rightback Leonardo Moura.
There’s clearly much more to Santana than his chaotic CV suggests. He has changed jobs 26 times in 27 years, and he’s been fired four times .
In Europe or SA, a career history like Santana’s would scream incompetence, or disloyalty, or nastiness, or all of the above. But in the endless pandemonium of elite Brazilian football, the rules are different. Coaches get hired and fired at the drop of a carnival wig.
“His record is totally normal for a top Brazilian coach,” says the BBC’s Brazilian football correspondent, Tim Vickery. “It’s no reflection on him — it reflects the nature of Brazilian football. It’s such a pressurised environment that lasting one year at a big club is an achievement.
“Santana has done a fantastic job at Flamengo, and he’s on course to win the Rio state championship this year. But he could quite easily lose a few games and find himself out of work. That’s why the Bafana job holds a big attraction for him, because it offers job security.”
Vickery says Santana has become known as “a specialist in human relations”.
His diplomacy is especially prized among the ego-ridden superclubs of Rio de Janeiro state, where he has spent most of his career, winning four state championships and one national title.
Santana has had four stints as head coach of Flamengo, and three at both Vasco da Gama and Fluminense.
But can he can replicate his success in another continent, let alone another Brazilian city?
Santana’s only stint at a Sao Paulo club, Corinthians, in 1997, was brief and fruitless. He enjoyed more success in Bahia state, where he won two state titles with Vitoria and one with Bahia.
Vickery says Santana must have picked up basic “football English” when he coached for eight years in the Middle East in the 1980s — at Dubai club Al- Wasl and Saudi club Al-Hilal.
That was a long time ago, and an intensive refresher course will surely be in order.
Duarte reckons Santana’s rusty English need not be a huge problem: “ Zico is doing very well at Turkish club Fenerbahce with the help of a translator.”
But more importantly, what kind of football can fans expect from Santana’s Bafana? According to both Vickery and Duarte, Santana shares Carlos Alberto Parreira’s first tactical priority: defensive organisation.
“Contemporary Brazilian coaches are pragmatists: they don’t survive otherwise,” says Vickery. “And the idea that the Brazilian game has always been carefree was never true anyway. It was mythologised.”
So get ready for cautious, safety-first football a la Jose Mourinho and Rafa Benitez.
“Organisation is Santana’s strength,” says Duarte. “He isn’t afraid to put everybody behind the ball. When Flamengo had to play ugly, they did. And he can be a very stubborn guy.”
Duarte remembers an important Flamengo game in which Santana picked three defensive midfielders. When the press complained, Santana explained that he wanted the holding trio to be his “SWAT team”.
Crucially, Parreira combined his defensive pragmatism with an insightful commitment to possession football: he understood that because Bafana lacked the defensive technique to absorb endless pressure, the team needed to keep the ball by building attacks patiently.
Parreira is reportedly not a close associate of Santana, but he will offer detailed advice on the strengths and limitations of his team, as will Jairo Leal and Pitso Mosimane.
Leal did most of the talent- spotting under Parreira , and he and Mosimane conducted most training sessions.
Vickery believes that Santana will have no difficulty slotting into a technical team without changing the existing vision.
“That’s exactly why he he’s been recommended,” he says. “It’s an old tradition in Brazilian football to work within a technical commission, where the head coach is almost a figurehead, supported by a team of technical specialists that sometimes even include psychiatrists and dentists. Santana will apply the charisma and strength of personality.”
Duarte admits that Santana’s appointment surprised many Brazilian football pundits.
“We were all scratching our heads a bit. He’s such a local guy, so linked with Rio culture. If they wanted a blue-ribbon Brazilian coach, you’d expect them to go for someone like Wanderlei Luxemburgo of Palmeiras, who has coached Real Madrid and Brazil in the past,” says Duarte.
“It’s a risky choice. Having said that, Santana has a great reputation for getting results. He may be perfect for the job, but it’s hard to say.”
The biggest risk Santana poses is that of excessively functional football. After savouring Parreira’s fusion of elegance and caution, Bafana’s followers want more of the same.
If Santana strikes that balance, he could yet become “San Joel de Bafana”.
http://www.thetimes.co.za/PrintEdition/Sport/Article.aspx?id=757113
