Absence of maniacal streak is Rafa’s big weakness

I WAS entertained and intrigued during international week.

Probably because I didn’t watch a single second of the actual football. Go figure, as we American stooges say.

Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel, and the only instinct within the rattling pea-brain of the Yahoo. My fellow countrymen, be they fans players or journalists, were burrowing through the bottom of several barrels.

When McClaren asked his coach driver to run over one hack, he did more for his credibility than his managerial ‘skills’ ever will.

Watching McClaren make a pigs ear of the England job made me realise that few people understand the difference between coaching and management.

It takes a lot to make me sympathise with multi-millionaire brats, but they listen each week to Ferguson Mourinho or Wenger (if he had any Englishmen left) and, okay, Benitez.

Then they schlep abroad and take orders from McClaren? What a descent that must be. Coaches believe they know it all, some even do — but it doesn’t make them managers.

At that level you really need Gravitas. It’s hard to explain what it is, but you certainly can’t learn it. Charlton was a pretty feeble club manager but for Ireland he got medal-saturated men like Aldridge, Houghton and Whelan to run through brick walls for him.

You need also to have some slightly unhinged air about you. The ABU’s will hate me for this but Ferguson is the prime example — and what about the new chip off the old block? Be honest: would you want to walk off the pitch, having not given 100%, and explain why to Roy Keane? You wouldn’t, would you?

His coaching skills will be examined at the highest levels (for which he’s surely bound) but like Ferguson he can hire underlings for that.

This is my fear for Benitez if I’m honest. That nasty, almost maniacal streak is missing. Few doubt his technical excellence. He has by far the best record against Chelsea of the top managers (we’ve played them often enough) and he gets the better of Barcelona wherever he is.

But I saw United blow Blackburn away and thought: we’d have just about scraped a draw from that. There’s a chink in Rafa’s armour, so far anyway.

No doubt the zealots will point me in the direction of Istanbul, Cardiff or the Nou Camp — but if such amphitheatres cannot inspire players they’ve no business being footballers.

Add Anfield to that list. It’s no coincidence Rafa’s got a fantastic home record, and Arsenal stood little chance of denting it. It further outlined the freakishness of January’s results.

Baptista’s foursome now seems like a weird dream. Don’t forget the last person to inflict such punishment was Mark Viduka! Saturday saw glimpses of what’s possible. Our strikers are not as bad as they’re painted.

As for intent we kept taking breathers with the internationals weary and PSV on the horizon. When we took the game to Arsenal we were virtually unstoppable.

Fabregas summed them up: neat, tidy, and comfortable. A little too comfortable, too smug. Even the manager seemed more interested in his clothing than the match; there were more costume changes than Ziggy Stardust.

I did burst a few blood vessels, only by shouting at the execrable Steve Bennett and the Reds’ reluctance to mark the back post at corners, which, inevitably, gave Arsenal their consolation.

For the new owners it was probably more than intriguing. They were deafened at the Barcelona game, but the muted response during yet another early kick-off (despite sticking it to close rivals) must have opened their eyes.

Let’s face it: if Arsenal fans are having a pop at your support then something’s amiss. They want to exploit the Asian market, but at what cost to the unique nature of Anfield at its best? You need a few bevvies to lubricate the throat and banish the inhibitions. When they get round to sending me that survey, I’ll suggest shoving a few cans under the seats.

Hey, you never know. Don’t ask, don’t get.

This column was penned in advance of Liverpool’s Eindhoven exploits.