A moment with...Alfred Gislason

When Alfred Gislason agreed to do an interview with me I was thrilled. Three times EHF Champions League winner and countless German titles, his time is valuable and so, despite that, I was ready to milk his time for all it was worth.

Sitting in his home chatting is like sitting at the knee of a handball Socrates. His thinking on the game is unique and this interview reflects that. Funny, erudite and warm, he is one of the greatest characters in our game today. His quips have me in fits of laughter.

“You throw the kids out in the morning, they come back when they are hungry”

Growing up in Akureyri, in Iceland, he admits that his work ethic was discovered at an early age. Second of six children, his father was a builder and his mother worked in the bank. He doesn’t know how she managed to feed them all. “We were like wolves” he said, and all his siblings have represented Iceland at national level in whatever sport.

His handball genes he gets from his mother. He came quite late to formal handball, 14, and attributes his will to work as opposed to talent for his life in the game.

“Everyone wanted their players, but not their coaches”

On being questioned about the tradition of handball in Iceland, he claims that the Iron Curtain falling was the biggest single factor. Coaches from all over Eastern Europe joined clubs in Iceland, with the result that each club had a different way of playing, a different philosophy in handball, which still endures today. Players, week in week out, faced different styles of defence and attack and this caused a huge upswing in the fortunes of the national team.

“It’s like a mini-Academy”

Iceland, he says, is like a mini national academy, where every piece of potential is wrung from every player. With no reserves, this is the only way forward. He then contrasts that with Germany and his ideas on why Iceland can perform, despite such meagre resources are very interesting.

But not only with players, he also talks of second division coaches from Iceland, asking him questions, dissecting Kiel matches, something he says, never happens in Germany. Far from being critical of German handball, he only explains the way in which a small nation can compete.

“I’m the nicest coach I know”

He agrees his on screen persona may give rise to the notion that he is distant and aloof, but he talks of so many Icelandic coaches working at the top level. “We are all team players”, he says, although the buck stops with them. He would never ask a player to do him a favour, because he never wants to be under an obligation. And team is everything at Kiel. He is irked that commentators call it free handball. He claims that it is for a reason that a player arrives at the point he is supposed to at the time he is supposed to.

“I hate Jane Fonda tactics”

He talks of movement with no real purpose. It looks pretty, but it has no substance. He has complex systems at place in Kiel and the players must stick to the system, although he does take into account their individual capabilities and weaknesses.

He is incredible to listen to as you fully understand, what it takes to stay at the top in Germany. He debates the point that they are the “Bayern Munich” of handball, because they have all the top players.

“I don’t have many talents, but spotting talent is one of my talents”

The story of when he first saw Vujin and Toft Hansen is worth a listen, if only to hear realise his memory store. Twelve years ago , seeing them as juniors, he knew the talent was there. The transfer of Canellas to Kiel is also explained. Gislason was always a fan, “although he looks like a minimalist, he explodes into life at the vital moments”.

And for the first time ever, he opens his heart about the leaving of Palmarsson. It is a beautifully human moment and he begins with, “Because it’s you Tom, I will tell you”.

His motto: “nothing beats work”, is evident from his tale of the two wins in ’10 and ’12 of the VELUX EHF FINAL4. They are worth a listen, because it shows how luck can be on your side, even in the wrong game. Just listen, you’ll understand.

He is the most charming man I have met in a long time. Serious, ironic, funny and warm, he can wax lyrical about all aspects of our sport. You really get the impression that he thinks deeply about everything, yet doesn’t take himself too seriously. It may be a façade that is difficult to break down, but he feels commentators need to dig deeper about all aspects of the game.

I’ll leave you in his great company with the question I asked about whether he thought of retiring after the “perfect” season in 2012. His answer is a classic!