The art of the exit interview
Thierry Henry looked deep into the camera lens, took a big gulp and prepared to pour out his heart.
We were deep in the bowels of Emirates Stadium in the summer of 2007 and one of Arsenal’s greatest ever players (and undoubtedly their most charismatic) was preparing to leave the club.
In such circumstances, farewell interviews are rare but I ended up doing a few with The Gunners. The final question that day was pretty standard club media fare, a thank you and message to the fans. I had not expected Thierry to stare right down the lens and make it so personal. It had a dramatic effect on the club’s supporters and various YouTubers made their own version of that final answer. My favourite is backed by the Cast track “Walk Away”.
A lot happened that afternoon and if I ever write a book about my time at Arsenal then it will be worthy of a mini-chapter of its own. That piece came flooding back recently when Manchester United released Ole Gunnar Solskjaer’s goodbye interview. The Norwegian had seemed to be a sitting duck since the start of the season and the previous Saturday’s 4-1 defeat at Watford appeared to be the final straw. Hours after Solskjaer pointedly went over to clap the travelling fans, the Manchester United board were meeting over Zoom. A day or so later he was gone.
The decision to sit down for a farewell interview received a mixed reception among the media. Some said it was classy, others suggested it smacked of the weakness that had typified Solskjaer’s reign and a failure to ‘read the room’ by one of the biggest clubs in the world.
For me, the whole debate shone a light on the divide within sport, and especially football.
A never ceasing lust for victory underpins the game. So the argument goes, this justifies the need for more and more cash. That is why, they will proudly announce that noodle partner in Vietnam, that exclusive NFT selection and, most disturbingly of all, try to exchange fan engagement for cryptocurrency tokens. They need the best talent and these individuals want 5x what an equivalent player commanded a decade ago. This agent, who also wants 2x, will facilitate the deal and this CEO, commanding 3x himself, will try to dredge up the money.
The undermining factor to this theory is, of course, the loyalty of fans is not subservient to success. In fact, you could argue it has only ever had a macro-level relationship with glory. Personal factors determine our support at a young age and relatively few change colours. Even overseas fans, previously seen as shallow-rooted and changeable, appear more loyal.
That said, Manchester United were the leading club during the first two decades of the Premier League partly because they had more money than anyone else. Remember, when Henry, a 21-year-old striker, signed for Arsenal for around £11m, Alex Ferguson was spending that much on his defenders. This is not to decry the Scotsman’s skills and it is testament to them that the Old Trafford side have spent significantly since his departure without ever nearing his level of success. But it is a very different game now.
Still, Solskjaer’s connection with Manchester United was clearly deep and meaningful. In recent months, I saw a video of him signing autographs in the rain outside Old Trafford after yet another defeat. Another social media post showed him getting out of his car to hug a fan after being sacked. No fanfare, no PR.
A senior executive at Liverpool once told me he knew the club was different when Gerard Houllier held an official press conference after he had been sacked. Like Henry, the Frenchman is still held in the highest esteem at Anfield and you can confidently predict that Solskjaer will be seen in a similar light for his service to Manchester United. This is not because of the interviews they did after their departure was confirmed. Hard though they may have been and some will have advised them against participating. It is because, for just a moment, their character allowed them to smear aside all the bullshit that football consistently piles up on itself chasing the unimportant and overhyped allowing them to grab a glimpse its true meaning.
In my experience, exit interviews are tricky but actually ‘light’ in mood. The weight of a troubling spell or difficult decision has been removed so the pressure that can make assholes of us all disappears. As when you leave any job, people suddenly appreciate you more and you suddenly look upon your soon-to-be former colleagues with different eyes. For a few hours, days or weeks, even football people return to being human.
Often, some choice quotes are left on the cutting room floor because a little too much honesty can seep out. The reflective and magnanimous is enough as both parties are ready to move on.
However, if movies are a device for creating empathy then football is a device for creating meaning. In both cases, the story must be deep enough to touch our most sensitive emotions.
Exit interviews are rare because they are tough, delicate, honest and raw.
But, at the same time, they reveal what really matters and who really cares.