The thing I liked about the video was how diplomatic he was for someone who was having one of his young, talented players (and judgement) questioned. All 'it's your opinion, you're entitled to hold it, this game is all about opinions...but you're a c*nt.'
I sat through the whole thing waiting for him to go full on 'Fack orf, I'm a fackin' football manager', but it never really came.
Overall, I don't see how anyone could hold any real grudges against the man. He was a good manager, one we badly needed, and one who came in and *vastly* exceeded the expectations that accompanied his initial appointment. Okay, he had the tactical nous of a carrot and thought the word 'rotation' was something only car mechanics needed to know...but sometimes all you really do need is a man who can consistently put the best eleven players on a pitch and tell them 'go out and be the players you believe yourselves to be'.
The shady money he kept getting caught up with wasn't our concern for the most part - the England farce was, but honestly that season was in danger when we ended January with Saha and Nelsen as our only incoming transfers anyway.
Personally, I'll always be grateful to the man - I remember sitting on the balcony of a guest house in Salzburg on one crisp, silent evening in December 2008, cup of steaming coffee in hand, contentedly scrolling through the BBC's match report of the Spurs-United game earlier that day that ended 0-0. At the end of it, I remember feeling amazed that I'd become so accustomed to expecting a result against the teams we were facing, even United, just a few months after the chaos, horror and agony that accompanied the start of that season. That late, late win against Liverpool. That away victory against a newly-minted City. That unforgettable draw against Arsenal. We were winning and drawing against the big boys (back when they actually still were the vaunted 'Big Four' and company), and we were alive again.
And I remember contentedly looking out at the deep, velvet sky above those quiet Austrian church spires, following the stars as they shyly appeared over the far horizon framed by a thin strand of gold from end to end, and thinking to myself....
"...you know, I think everything's going to turn out alright."
I don't know why that moment sticks out above many of my other memories of the Redknapp era...but it does. Just sitting outside on a silent, serene evening in Salzburg, and slowly filling up from top to bottom with the soothing, quietly cheering feeling that it was all going to be alright. Even I couldn't have known how wild and exciting the following years would turn out to be - filled with great moments, great adventures, great players, great disappointments, great tragedies, great pains....great memories. But back then, I somehow knew it would turn out all right in the end.
