“Just write that I am a tyrant and I have run them ragged and shouted at them,” said Sean Dyche. It might be the simpler way. His reputation precedes him and it is only partly of his own creation. If others have an image to live up to, Dyche has one to live down to. He is apparently the worm-eating dinosaur who likes 4-4-2, Ashley Barnes, going out in the snow without a coat and irritating foreign managers with passing philosophies. By his own admission, he has had his face photoshopped on to various wrestlers’ bodies. “I will live in whatever box you want me to,” Dyche said.
Now he belongs in the category of Everton managers. His recent predecessors include two Champions League winners, in Carlo Ancelotti and Rafa Benitez, and a host of other more fashionable figures, whether Roberto Martinez or Ronald Koeman, Frank Lampard or Marco Silva. Dyche may have been the last resort, Farhad Moshiri’s last stand, chosen by a board so unpopular they could not come to Goodison Park. “They felt I was right at this time,” Dyche said.
