This was my first real crisis. My first major setback. I had faced challenges before, of course. The loss of our home, the step up to a new league, the threat of a rival manager. But this was different.
This was a crisis of confidence, a crisis of identity. This was a test of my ability to manage not just a team, but a club. A test of my ability to lead a group of men through a period of adversity, and to bring them out the other side, stronger and more resilient.
I was at a crossroads. I could panic. I could abandon my principles, my philosophy. I could start screaming at the players, blaming them for our poor performances.
I could drop the players who were out of form, I could change the formation every week, I could lurch from one desperate, short-term solution to another. It would be the easy option. The option of a manager who was out of his depth, who was losing control.
