Manolo González, Espanyol's top coach, went from driving a bus to sitting in the visitors' bench of one of Spain's biggest football clubs. The 46-year-old from Galicia, who was nicknamed Stoichkov for his short temper on the pitch, started coaching at just 16 and has been climbing the ranks ever since. González's journey took him through every age group and level of Spanish football, from regional leagues to the top flight, with over 10,000 nights spent training.
González's rise was not a straightforward one. He admits that he "knows" Atlètic Lleida's coach, Gabri García, because they've faced each other at their own level, but it wasn't until Espanyol approached him to manage the first team in 2020 that his career truly took off.
That moment was a turning point. González had just taken fourth-tier Peña Deportiva to successive playoffs and had been offered a lower salary than elsewhere in the division to join Espanyol's B team. The situation was desperate: miss promotion, and they would have been "screwed". Yet, González believed he could do it. And when the offer came, he took it.
González credits his sporting director for seeing something in him that others didn't. There's a lot of talent in lower divisions, but players and coaches are often labelled as not being good enough for the top flight. Public opinion says: "He doesn't know the league, he hasn't got the experience." But González was brave to risk it all.
When Espanyol were in the second division, and they'd sacked two coaches, Luis García and Luis Miguel Ramis, the situation was dire. The players could have easily thought: "Young coach, new in the first division, we can let him fall." But the opposite happened. González's team didn't lose, going up via the playoffs.
Three decades later, Espanyol are fifth in La Liga, with a renewed optimism about the place. New ownership has brought fresh resources, from unimaginable budgets to crowds of tens of thousands. The salary is also eye-watering - but González laughs when asked how it feels to see all those zeros for the first time.
González admits that there are parts of La Liga that aren't his natural place. He doesn't enjoy the exposure or the fact that people run with what he says. Yet, if he doesn't enjoy the press conferences - and they're 80-odd annually - then his audience does. González is a welcome arrival, someone to cut through the nonsense, earthy and charismatic.
Ultimately, it's not so different from his time in lower divisions. There's still a corner routine that works exactly the same way as ever. And, he says, with a grin, it still works.
When asked about nerves on matchdays, González admits they still get him. The pressure is immense - many people depend on you. Winning is a relief because of the pressure. But González tries to keep things in perspective: footballers are not socialites or faranduleros. They're there to win and compete.
In his experience, it's pure. Committed people who want to work and win. And that's what makes La Liga different - but thankfully, it's not.
González's rise was not a straightforward one. He admits that he "knows" Atlètic Lleida's coach, Gabri García, because they've faced each other at their own level, but it wasn't until Espanyol approached him to manage the first team in 2020 that his career truly took off.
That moment was a turning point. González had just taken fourth-tier Peña Deportiva to successive playoffs and had been offered a lower salary than elsewhere in the division to join Espanyol's B team. The situation was desperate: miss promotion, and they would have been "screwed". Yet, González believed he could do it. And when the offer came, he took it.
González credits his sporting director for seeing something in him that others didn't. There's a lot of talent in lower divisions, but players and coaches are often labelled as not being good enough for the top flight. Public opinion says: "He doesn't know the league, he hasn't got the experience." But González was brave to risk it all.
When Espanyol were in the second division, and they'd sacked two coaches, Luis García and Luis Miguel Ramis, the situation was dire. The players could have easily thought: "Young coach, new in the first division, we can let him fall." But the opposite happened. González's team didn't lose, going up via the playoffs.
Three decades later, Espanyol are fifth in La Liga, with a renewed optimism about the place. New ownership has brought fresh resources, from unimaginable budgets to crowds of tens of thousands. The salary is also eye-watering - but González laughs when asked how it feels to see all those zeros for the first time.
González admits that there are parts of La Liga that aren't his natural place. He doesn't enjoy the exposure or the fact that people run with what he says. Yet, if he doesn't enjoy the press conferences - and they're 80-odd annually - then his audience does. González is a welcome arrival, someone to cut through the nonsense, earthy and charismatic.
Ultimately, it's not so different from his time in lower divisions. There's still a corner routine that works exactly the same way as ever. And, he says, with a grin, it still works.
When asked about nerves on matchdays, González admits they still get him. The pressure is immense - many people depend on you. Winning is a relief because of the pressure. But González tries to keep things in perspective: footballers are not socialites or faranduleros. They're there to win and compete.
In his experience, it's pure. Committed people who want to work and win. And that's what makes La Liga different - but thankfully, it's not.