Augusto César Lendoiro has never lacked ambition. He realised very early that he was not good enough to be a footballer, so he created his own club, Ural, of which he became president. He was 15.
That was the start of a career that, more than four decades later, is still moving upwards. He has worked as a waiter in London, he made his name in roller hockey, and now, as president of Deportivo la Coruna, Lendoiro is one of the toughest leaders of a football club anywhere in Europe. He failed when he tried his hand at politics, but has been an unqualified success in football.
‘Here we come Barcelona! Here we come Real Madrid!†Lendoiro screamed from the La Coruna town hall balcony in 1991 when Depor celebrated their arrival in the Spanish first division. That was a remarkable achievement in itself, given that only three years earlier a near-bankrupt Depor had been a the wrong end of the second division.
In the 13 years following his appearance on the balcony, Lendoiro (59) has seen Depor hold their place among the aristocracy of Spanish football, with one league title (it should have been two), two cups and, this year, a place in the last four of the Champions League.
Depor’s budget has risen in that time from a meagre £1,2-million a year to £50-million. They once struggled to attract bigger crowds than the local roller-hockey team; now they have 30 000 season-ticket holders and 20 000 shareholders. Their squad includes many valuable young players, on long contracts and with high buy-out clauses, and the club are well set for the next three or four years. Lendoiro’s position is even more secure.
Before his arrival, Depor were a typical ‘yo-yo†team, never settled in either the first or second division. They have spent 35 years at the top and 37 in the second division. They were the nursery of promising youngsters such as Luis Suarez, the only Spanish Golden Ball winner as Europe’s top scorer, and Amancio, who starred for Real Madrid.
In 1987, Depor were about to go bankrupt, which would have meant relegation to the third division. They needed a new leader and Lendoiro was the perfect candidate.
On his return from London to his Galician home, Lendoiro was a great success as sporting director of Liceo, the local roller-hockey team that he made the best in the world. That success made him an admired personality and politics seduced him. Three times he stood as mayor of La Coruna for the right-wing party PP; three times he lost. Football offered him the opportunity to refocus his ambition and Depor appeared at the right time.
Within three years, he took Depor to the first division. After three more he almost made them champions. Centre-back Djukic famously missed a penalty nobody wanted to take in the last second of the last match of the season, to hand the title to Barcelona.
After consolidating the club, Len-doiro dedicated his life full-time to their future. At the season-ticket holders’ assembly in 1999, the supporters voted almost unanimously to give him wages equivalent to 1% of the annual budget — a first in Spain. He is earning about £500 000 now.
He had a clear idea of what he wanted from Depor: to break the Barcelona-Madrid axis of domination. Against tradition, he kept the new great Galician star, Fran, bought Bebeto and Mauro Silva — he has never had a sporting director; ring him directly if you are selling a player — and won ever-increasing support from the city’s population of 250 000.
Generally, Spanish football directors are mature men who have suddenly become rich, or bored millionaires in search of a fix of fame. Lendoiro is different. He studied law at university, is not especially wealthy (by his peers’ standards), was always involved in sports and even coached a youth team. He knows football.
Lendoiro was laughed at when, in the 1997 closed season, he signed Rivaldo and said the Brazilian was better than his compatriot Giovanni, who had just landed at Barcelona. Three years later, Rivaldo was considered the best player in the world and Giovanni moved to the Greek league.
Even when he got things wrong, he was clever enough to correct them quickly. After missing the title in the last match of the season, he created a squad in 1998 featuring 30 foreigners. Soon he realised that was a mistake, and when Depor beat Manchester United 3-2 at Old Trafford in October 2001, nine of the 11 who started were Spaniards.
Lendoiro never forgot that the best clubs have the best players and after Bebeto he bought Rivaldo, Roy Makaay, Djalminha, Diego Tristan and Valeron. Depor have also spent shrewdly on their infrastructure and have a new sporting city with 10 pitches, a clinic, a shop and a restaurant by the sea.
Lendoiro is also an innovator. He was first to suggest the idea of individual television rights, pushed long ago for a global calendar and the right for clubs to be compensated for players on national duty. He even took Uefa to civil court after the Riazor stadium was closed for a match. A visionary, a rebel … and the toughest negotiator.
Ask Bayern Munich, who thought they had Makaay for €17,75-million. The Depor president suddenly demanded one more million that had to be paid by the player.
‘I will teach a lesson to that señor,†said Bayern’s Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, who threatened to file a complaint against him. But there were no grounds for a formal hearing so the Germans had to content themselves with keeping Depor out of the powerful G14 group of clubs. Victory in the Champions League would change that.
In another shrewd deal, Lendoiro made £5-million from Frenchman Silvain Wiltord without fielding him once. He was signed from Rennes for £1,5-million and immediately sold to Bordeaux for £3,6-million with a percentage of any future sale. When he was sold to Arsenal, Depor cashed in.
Lendoiro believes in Galician superstitions, which is why he always carries around his long, dark-blue coat, even in the summer. His failure in politics made him divide the world between friends and enemies.
He has never criticised a player or a coach, but lays into any journalists who he feels are against him. That black-and-white vision of the world has made him suspicious of those who are not close to him, which is why the club, run as a family, has only six administrative employees, the same number they had in the second division.
The press officer acts also as travel agent, the director of communications doubles up as stadium tour guide, and so on.
Lendoiro still works harder than any of them. He is last to leave the club offices in the Pontevedra square, which he locks with the keys he then takes home. The following morning, he is first to arrive. —