S ven-Göran Eriksson is saying his farewells to the world. The former England men’s football manager has pancreatic cancer, and is approaching the end of his life. In January, he announced he had at most a year to live.
He is keen to talk. But he wants to do it in Sven style – calm, measured, drama-free. He tells me he wants to set the record straight.
“I had a lot to do with the press in a lot of countries, but especially in England. So why not tell my truth? What I think is the truth.” Eriksson was England’s first foreign manager.
He seemed to belong more to the contemplative world of an Ingmar Bergman film than the cut and thrust of football – professorial, urbane, with a distinctive high forehead, spectacles and a kindly face. He wore immaculately pressed suits on the touchline and rarely showed emotion. While other managers threw tantrums, kicked water bottles or applauded referees ironically, Eriksson sat in silence and watched.
He could just as easily have been meditating as managing a football team. But Eriksson surprised us, too. He was a Casanova on the quiet.
Actually, not even on the quiet. He arrived in England with his partner Nancy Dell’Olio, a glamorous, larger-than-life socialite and lawyer. Then there were affairs with TV presenter Ulrika Jonsson and FA secretary Faria Alam, which were lapped up by the tabloid press.
At times, his life as England manager felt like a cartoon strip – Carry on Sven! The tabloids did their best to destroy Eriks.