The Sacking Culture: Why Elite Football's Patience Has Run Out

Football management has now become a profession defined by brevity. Across Europe's elite leagues, the managerial merry-go-round spins faster each season, churning through coaches with alarming frequency. What once was a position of relative stability has transformed into one of the most precarious jobs in professional sport.

The numbers tell an obvious story. In the 1960s, top-flight managers could expect to remain in their positions for roughly four years. Today, that figure has dropped to approximately 18 months. The Premier League has already witnessed six managerial departures in the 2025-26 season and, and we're not even halfway through the campaign.

Ruben Amorim lasted just 14 months at Manchester United before his dismissal on January 5, despite leading the team to a Europa League final. Enzo Maresca departed Chelsea on New Year's Day after one win in seven league games. Vítor Pereira was sacked by Wolverhampton Wanderers in November despite receiving a new three-year contract just weeks earlier. Most remarkably, Nottingham Forest dismissed Ange Postecoglou after just 39 days in charge, setting a new record for the shortest permanent managerial reign in Premier League history.

Real Madrid's decision to part ways with Xabi Alonso after merely 233 days encapsulates the problem. Here was a coach who had achieved the historic feat of leading Bayer Leverkusen to an unbeaten Bundesliga season. He arrived at the Bernabéu as a club legend with impeccable credentials, won 20 of his 28 matches in charge, and kept Madrid competitive in both La Liga and the Champions League despite significant injury problems. Yet a single 3-2 defeat to Barcelona in the Spanish Super Cup final cost him his job.

Under president Florentino Pérez, Real Madrid has now sacked ten permanent managers without allowing them to complete a full year in charge. The message could not be clearer: deliver immediate success or face immediate consequences.

This accelerating churn carries significant consequences. Teams that constantly change managers struggle to implement coherent tactical systems or build sustainable playing styles. Players adapt to new methods every 12 to 18 months, never fully mastering one approach before learning another. Young academy prospects encounter different coaching philosophies depending on which manager happens to be employed when they break through.

The contrast with historical norms highlights how dramatically the landscape has shifted. Sir Alex Ferguson managed United for 26 years, building multiple championship teams while weathering difficult periods that would result in dismissal under current standards. Arsène Wenger spent 22 years at Arsenal, transforming the club's entire approach to football. These lengthy tenures allowed for genuine institution-building that extended beyond individual seasons.

Modern football rarely permits such patience. Amorim won 24 of his 63 matches at United, a 38.1 percent win rate that represents the worst of any United manager in the Premier League era aside from interim Ralf Rangnick. Yet these numbers emerged from institutional chaos, squad rebuilding, and impossible expectations. He was sacked early in his first full campaign despite the team sitting sixth in the table.

The financial stakes driving this impatience have never been higher. Premier League clubs receive hundreds of millions of pounds annually in broadcasting revenue, with relegation or mid-table mediocrity potentially costing millions in future earnings. This creates hair-trigger responses to poor form, with boards feeling compelled to demonstrate decisive action when results dip.

Amorim's case illustrates the impossible position managers face. He was criticized for insisting on his preferred 3-4-3 system, accused of inflexibility when he refused to abandon it despite poor results. Yet when he finally switched to a back four against Newcastle on Boxing Day and won, he was then questioned by director of football Jason Wilcox for reverting to three center backs against Wolves four days later. No matter which tactical decision he made, it could be framed as wrong.

Real Madrid's decision to replace Alonso with Álvaro Arbeloa, promoted from the reserve team, suggests an institutional preference for compliant voices over strong-minded tacticians. Arbeloa has done commendable work developing young players since 2020, but his promotion comes partly because he represents minimal risk to existing power structures. He will be grateful for the opportunity and unlikely to challenge institutional failures.

Boards increasingly want coaches who implement their vision rather than impose their own. They want managers who work within existing structures rather than demanding changes. They want employees rather than leaders. Then they express surprise when these compliant coaches fail to deliver transformative success.

Nottingham Forest's situation perfectly captures the absurdity. The club sacked Nuno Espírito Santo despite his having led them to Europa League qualification the previous campaign. His replacement, Postecoglou, was given 39 days and eight matches before being dismissed. The third manager of the season now inherits the same impossible expectations that doomed his predecessors. At what point does the club acknowledge that the problem might not be the coaches?

Until the underlying incentives shift, the sacking culture will continue accelerating. More coaches will find themselves dismissed after brief tenures. More clubs will cycle through multiple managers each season. More players will adapt to constantly changing systems. And more supporters will watch their clubs chase immediate success while sacrificing the stability that might actually deliver it.

The irony is that everyone involved recognizes the problem yet feels powerless to change it. Club executives know that constant turnover undermines long-term planning but feel compelled to act when results falter. Supporters want patience with managers but demand action when their team struggles. Players understand that stability helps performance but adapt to whoever currently occupies the dugout.

Perhaps the most damning evidence comes from the managers themselves. Alonso expressed gratitude despite the circumstances. Amorim publicly insisted he wouldn't quit even as his relationship with United's hierarchy disintegrated. They knew the risks when accepting these positions, understood the limited time available, yet took the jobs anyway.

The sacking culture has become self-perpetuating, creating an environment where patience represents weakness and change signals strength. Six managers have already lost their jobs in the Premier League this season, and that figure will almost certainly grow before May. Each dismissal will be justified by poor results or stylistic disagreements. None will acknowledge that perhaps the system itself creates these failures.

The question is not whether this approach is unfair to managers. Clearly it is. The question is whether anyone with the power to change it possesses sufficient incentive to try. Based on current evidence, the answer appears to be no.