Sarina Wiegman steps out onto the dew-soaked grass. Tracksuit on, stopwatches primed, it’s time to go to work. Her players stand, ready; a bag of balls awaits the morning workout. Wiegman has that serious expression she wears every morning, but being so focused, she doesn’t notice the faint sniggering from those who call her ‘boss’.
Here at Dutch club ADO Den Haag, Wiegman’s second as a manager, players have planned a practical joke. Merel van Dongen, a brilliant full-back and future international, has a twin sister. That morning, her non-footballing sibling Sanne has put the training kit on, jogged out in her twin’s place and will partake in the session. It’s a risky ploy. Wiegman is all about success. Football is serious. Winning titles is serious.
Training begins. Before a ball is kicked, the players start with some core stability work. Wiegman strolls around her players, checking their form. She stops at who she believes is Merel. Something’s not right. Merel has done this drill a thousand times before. Why, this morning, is she not doing it correctly?
“Merel, push up those hips,” she snarls. “Higher! Higher!” Cue hysterical laughter, but Wiegman is still in the dark. “Why is everyone laughing?” she asks, before refocusing her mind on the job at hand. It’s only later, when she spots Sanne running away towards the car park and Merel attempting to join the group by stealth, that the penny finally drops. She has been had.
That morning, Wiegman laughed with her players. She agreed it was the best practical joke they’d ever played, but as her career has progressed, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if she admitted that they taught her a valuable lesson. Details. Always look for every detail and don’t miss a thing.
That is how Wiegman works – by leaving no stone unturned, she’s become the
