Graham Taylor- a manager deeply misunderstood perhaps but still an England manager.

Graham Taylor- a manager deeply misunderstood perhaps but still an England manager.

Graham Taylor, the ex England manager, today died at 72 after a suspected heart attack. Taylor, who single-handledly transformed the fortunes of Watford football club during the late 1970s  and then successfully, during the 1980s, may well be remembered for all the wrong reasons but was undoubtedly held in the highest regard by both supporters, fellow managers and the administrators within the game. Football meant a great deal to Taylor but his methods and techniques would always be highly questionable. The purists thought him a dinosaur but the ardent advocates of the long ball game saw him as the ulitmate Messiah who could do no wrong.

During the 1950s Wolves manager Stan Cullis maintained, much to the horror and disgust of his managerial rivals. that the long ball game, which almost looked absurdly simple at first, was in fact, on closer inspection, a grotesque distortion of the game. According to Cullis the long ball game was the quickest and most expedient route to goal. For Cullis it was all about straightforward pragmatism rather than the delicate sophistication of the Brazilians, Italians or the Argentinians. Football was never complicated and for Cullis it was all about the end result rather than the artistic product that mattered.

Whether it be the lofty long goal-kick punt or the long and optimistic punt from full back all the way to the opposition area, the game had suddenly become all about the law of averages, percentages and not very pretty into the bargain. It looked ugly, It looked primitive and it did nothing to enhance the essential beauty and poetry of modern football. But hey what did they know? What nonsense and what utter tosh. Cullis did it his way and nobody ever quibbled with him because he knew best.

And so too did Graham Taylor. Taylor joined Watford in the late 1970s and established one of the most lucrative relationships with an evergreen and world wide famous pop star. When Taylor joined forces with the then Elton John, the comics and satirists sharpened their tongues and pens. It was match made in heaven and yet to those on the outside it often appeared that both were just flattered to be in the same company as each other. Still it worked and worked beautifully because both developed a businesslike understanding with each other.

When Taylor was appointed Watford manager he had the basic structure and framework in place. Perhaps Taylor's most important foundation stone was the tall and menacing striker Ross Jenkins. Jenkins was relatively unknown at the time but Taylor converted him into a lethal goal scorer more than capable of roughing up and damaging defenders egos. Jenkins was both bruising, bullish and belligerent and was never averse to a ferocious battle or two.

Slowly but surely Taylor moulded and carefully nurtured his players into an effective and productive attacking unit. Then he ran into the most heated of all arguments with those who liked their football with a touch of caviar as opposed to those who preferred good old fashioned salt and vinegar. Taylor, from a very early point in his Watford career, made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with the short passing game or the game that made you sigh with appreciation.

Rightly or wrongly Taylor believed that if you launched the ball into outer space rather than treat it with an almost reverential worship than you had to be right. All of those pretty patterns in midfield and quick, short passes between defenders and midfielders were totally unnecessary embellishments, more of a hindrance rather than a help.  That way, Taylor believed led down the road to ruination. Short passing could only lead to the darkest cul-de-sac rather than a glamorous boulevard.

But for all of Taylor's critics he did believe in placing his lasting faith in young and unknown players poised to break into regular first team football. Taylor always reminded of you an over enthusiastic PE teacher rather than the animated coach who does his utmost to keep his players on their toes. In fact Taylor was so competitive that even the most routine five-a-sides game in training were taken perhaps too seriously.

Still the results took precedence to everything else for Taylor. But he did effect remarkable transformations and improvments in players who had been hitherto very ordinary. Players such as Nigel Callaghan and John Barnes on their respective wings, Wilf Rostron in the busiest of midfield roles and the remarkably prolific Luther Blissett up front, responded warmly to Taylor's gentle guidance and encouragement.

When Watford were promoted to the old First Division for the first time in the club's history, Taylor quickly made up his mind to whip up a major revolution at Vicarage Road. Soon Watford were playing against a backdrop of the first electronic score-boards in the old First Division and there was the faintest whiff of showbiz commercialism about the club. Watford was all about cheerleaders, dancing girls and an enchanting flamboyance. They were a go- ahead club and Taylor was determined to change attitudes within the game as a whole.

In 1984, Taylor and Elton John led Watford to their first ever FA Cup Final. This, you felt sure, had to be one of Taylor's finest of moments. From his early days at Lincoln Taylor could only have dreamt of taking his team to an FA Cup Final. Sadly Lincoln would not be his preferred choice of football club and Watford instead met Everton in that year's Cup Final.

Even more regrettably Watford were almost effortlessly beaten by a technically superior Everton side that were sharper, hungrier and far too good on the day. When the TV cameras homed in on Elton John it almost felt as if  Watford's day of fantasy had been stolen from under their noses. But Taylor was responsible for Watford and he was the man who'd reached his promised land.

The legendary pop star complete with boater hat and natty suit, cried profusely. And yet Taylor had been fundamentally associated with a day they would never forget. Watford were beaten comfortably by Everton that day but Taylor had made the profoundest of personal statements. He'd led out his Watford side at the old Wembley Stadium in an FA Cup Final. Nobody could take that away from him.

And then there were the England years. In the end Graham Taylor shouldn't really have been allowed anywhere near the England manager's job. At first there were the good days, those uplifting moments that had made life so sweet and worthwhile but by 1993 England had found themselves in the deepest of ruts. Frequently there were the nervous jitters, the demoralising defeats in their World Cup qualifying group and then there was the final game in Holland. By now anger and apprehension had set in and the knives were out for poor Taylor. Defeat was unforgivable. Victory was not only compulsory it was the difference between the sack for Taylor and back to club management.

And so it was that Graham Taylor was, almost humiliatingly exposed in a TV documentary, from all angles and positions. Taylor was shown to be human, flawed and vulnerable, a man whose every word. gesture and mannerism would be monitored with microscopic intensity. Suddenly Taylor was on his feet, jumping up and down almost frantically and throwing his arms into the air like a man who'd spent an hour waiting for a bus. Taylor's face was a picture of desperation, alarmed and distressed by life's grave injustices, a man clinging on to a lifeboat.

Taylor almost constantly crept up on the linesman with a constant barrages of complaint, criticism and censure. Then there were the constant reminders to the said linesman about how he was the man who could make or break his job as England management. It was both sad and dramatically heartbreaking. It was like the emasculation of a man's decency, a helpless cry in the wilderness and eventually a release of all those primal human emotions. Give me a break linesman. Thanks to you I'll probably get the sack in the morning. Never has any football manager felt so isolated.

During the 1990s Taylor returned to club management with a moderately successful spell at Aston Villa. You were reminded of how another England manager Sir Alf Ramsey had also ended his football career at Villa's rivals Birmingham City. Taylor, though had not won the World Cup with England and maybe that's where the similarities ended.

But Taylor was far from a disgrace at Villa Park and there were insistent echoes of Taylor's halcyon days at Watford. The football, most unfortunately, failed to have the desired effect on Villa's very discerning fans. After all they'd seen the glory days of Ron Saunders when the old League Championship was impressively won in 1981 so maybe they'd been unreasonably spoilt.

 Villa, after all would have the dashing and forthright Tony Morley on the wing, Dennis Mortimer masterminding Villa's midfield, the rock like Ken Mcnaught while Gary Shaw and Andy Gray scored goals almost naturally up front. Graham Taylor had very few of  Saunders tools and resources at his disposal and a long term project would become a terrible predicament. Villa blew hot and cold under Taylor but until recently preserved their Premier League status.

In recent years Taylor became a well respected TV pundit for the BBC. His views were shrewd and perceptive, wise and thought provoking. There was a sense that now, in the twilight of his career, Taylor could pass on the considerable depth of his knowledge to an audience who still felt he'd been harshly mistreated. Taylor polarised opinion wherever he went but football meant the world to him. All of that stupid talk of swedes and turnips would have been enough to ruin anybody's appetite. Graham Taylor, a decent man in a game that may have been unfair to him at the time. Football, what a game hey!