There is a specific, restless energy to Neil Warnock that defies the traditional laws of ageing and the modern conventions of football management. At 77, he still wakes up in the dead of night to obsess over the overlapping runs of a National League South full-back.
“When I was thinking about the system this morning at four o’clock, [I was like]: ‘What are you doing?’” he said, a smile cutting through the post-match gloom at Ebbsfleet. The setting was hardly Premier League-like – a crowd of 1,467 huddled under a gloomy sky – but for Warnock, the stakes of the dugout remain existential. Even if the reality of his years occasionally intrudes on his tactical scouting. “When you get to my age, you have to go to the toilet a few times [which is why he was awake] … but I’m enjoying every minute of this.”
