Many observers feel that, in a sporting sense, Rafael Benítez is losing his mind, but arguably the real problem is that he knows his mind too well. Benítez's much-criticised decision to substitute Steven Gerrard at Wigan last night was the latest in a burgeoning list of dubious calls by a man who is apparently so secure in his own judgment that he is increasingly struggling to see the wood for the trees. Benítez is now in very real danger of making a dogmatic breakfast of Liverpool's title challenge.
He is becoming increasingly and dangerously isolated, and if Liverpool do not win the league he will, probably unfairly, cop almost all of the blame. He needs every friend he can get just now, but that's no reason to have one of the few men he can really trust, Gerrard, on the bench with him in the closing minutes of a crucial game. Independence of thought and certainty in your own judgment are hallmarks of a great manager – remember the Brian Clough quote about talking over something for 20 minutes and then deciding he was right – but such a strength can also be a weakness, and if Benítez thinks any further outside the box he will do himself a mischief.
He, like so many managers before him, has a serious think problem. (Although given that this is a blog about a substitution, that statement may be the definitive example of the pot doing what it does to the kettle.) Tony Adams's decision to omit Jermain Defoe from his first game as Portsmouth manager, away at Liverpool, was a classic example of thinking too much, as was Graham Taylor's decision to leave Paul Gascoigne out away to Ireland in 1990 and play Gordon Cowans. The undeniable slivers of logic in both decisions were obscured by their ostentatious eccentricity. The same applies to most of the decisions that Benítez has made recently.
Last night, however, it was hard to see even a sliver of logic. The reality is that replacing Gerrard probably didn't matter, so winded were Liverpool by the timing and manner of Mido's goal, but the decision was so wilfully controversial, such an obvious assertion of Benítez's authority, as to invite the perception that he would have no qualms whatsoever about munching off his nose if he thought his face wouldn't like it. There are, as Minnie Driver said in the film Grosse Pointe Blank, some things that you do not do – you do not do – in a civilised society. In a sporting society, substituting Gerrard, the most sacred of English footballing cows, has become one such thing.
This is not to say that replacing Gerrard is wrong per se. He is in the top 30 most-subbed players in Premier League history (is that the most tragic use of statistics ever? Yes, yes it is), and last night was the 25th time he had been taken off by Benítez in a Premier League game. More tellingly, however, it was only the fifth time he had come off when Liverpool were not ahead. Two were draws at Aston Villa, in 2004–05 and 2006–07, that had no relevance at all to the title race; another, at Reading last season, came when Liverpool were 3–1 down and Benítez decided not entirely unreasonably to cut his losses ahead of a crucial Champions League game at Marseille 72 hours later.
The fourth was also last season, at Goodison Park, and that time Benítez was entirely justified (even if Gerrard's replacement was Lucas Leiva). A hot-headed Liverpool, taking their lead more than ever from a frenzied Gerrard, were struggling to break down 10-man Everton: they needed the forensic rather than the frenetic, and created chance after chance after chance once Gerrard went off, eventually winning the game 2–1. Gerrard threw a wobbler and Benítez would have barely received more public criticism had he cast aspersions as to the sexual mores of the granddaughter of a man who used to play a Spanish waiter, but any detached analysis of the game showed he was absolutely right. In fact, in its courage, insight and ultimate success, it was one of the great substitutions of modern times.
Last night, however, was completely different contextually. Anathema as the notion is Benítez, whose control-freakery was dissected splendidly in Paul Doyle's recent blog, Liverpool needed hot heads to chase two points that had been unexpectedly taken from them. He cited simple tiredness – and it was notable that, on television at least, Gerrard did not appear to dispute the decision one iota, which contrasted markedly with that funk at Everton last season – but surely with Gerrard, one of maybe 10 players in the world who almost redefine indefatigability, who can run on pure bronca, that is as close to an irrelevance as a legitimate physiological concern could ever be. Add in the fact that he has been playing exceptionally well of late, carrying an increasingly downtrodden team almost single-handedly, and it became an even more curious course of action.
Benítez, of course, had originally planned to make that change at 1–0. In that respect it was perfectly reasonable: Robbie Keane, if nothing else on current form, is a willing and loyal hound, who would chase around the pitch as Wigan inevitably dictated possession in a way that a weary Gerrard would not have been able to do. Tiredness, as any schoolboy knows, hits you so much more when you are defending than when you are attacking.
Yet once Wigan equalised, the narrative of the game – and the season – had changed so significantly that to persist with this pre-planned strategy was as perverse as going out in shorts and flip-flops even though bright sunshine has just given way to the mother of all storms. Maybe Benítez simply didn't react quickly enough to that changing narrative. Maybe in this instance he wasn't so much overthinking as underthinking. Either way, most will feel that, at the moment, he is certainly not thinking straight.
