A locker room can throw out its coach

When they proposed the idea of ​​starting an adventure abroad, José Luis Oltra (Valencia, 1969) could boast of being the coach who had been leading teams in Spanish professional football for the longest years. Nineteen campaigns remained. Until he understood that the time had come to leave his comfort zone and he packed his bags to go to Cyprus. The experience so far has been positive. I have played the Champions League preview, the Europa League preview and group stage, and two rounds of the Conference League, he explains. In addition, he has his team, Larnaca, third and with aspirations to the title, having achieved nine consecutive victories, staying one of the ten in his stage with Dpor. Some numbers that, even without getting him to settle, I know that make him outline a small smile.

“Why has it taken you so long to go abroad and why now?”

There was a bit of a coincidence. I changed representation agency. I started with David Villa’s (DV7). And he was the one who recommended that I live the experience of working abroad. he l he was in New York and Japan and he thinks everyone should try it. So I cheered up.

—And right.

—For now, yes. The bad thing is being without family. But it is a comfortable place to live. The weather is good, the people are nice… I had a significant handicap with the language, because I didn’t speak any English and I had to study hard. But it was worth it. I have gone from knowing nothing to having individual and group conversations with players, without the need for a translator. Another problem was that, since Cyprus had been an English colony, cars have everything on the right, they drive on the left… So I spent a month putting the windshield in place of the blinker.

—You always pulling towards the sun… Dpor was one of the few exceptions.

—One always analyzes everything before signing. And, when I went to A Corua, time was the least important. A friend had told me that there were two seasons there: winter and the train season. But he called me the Dpor and that’s big words.

—It was barely a year and a half, but it seems to have marked it as if it were more.

—Actually, I was in A Corua for two years, because the children hadn’t finished school and, once they kicked me out, on December 31, we stayed for the rest of the year. But it was a place where I found myself very comfortable. The first year was sensational in results. Then, there were financial problems (months without pay, promotion bonus debt…) and the team didn’t carbure. But the kids, my wife and I made very good friends, which we still have.

—But, you coined the phrase that in Tenerife I enjoyed a promotion and in A Corua I suffered a promotion.

—Yes, but not because I didn’t enjoy it, that too. But the thing is that the pressure there was such… I think we were all aware, even if it wasn’t said, that either we were promoted or the club could disappear. And, also at the media level, there was a lot of pressure. That I understand the work of everyone, but there were harsh press conferences (he laughs). Then there is the consummation of success, the celebration with the bus all over the city… It was very nice.

—Was it the first time that you really felt pressure as a coach?

—Be careful, Tenerife was also a complicated place. But, of course, the Dpor was the Dpor. A club that had won a League, two Cups and three Super Cups. And that after twenty-odd years he had gone down to Second. Then, every game there was an impressive atmosphere in Riazor. And that was a difficult season at the beginning, with a 4-0 loss in Alcorcn and another defeat in Alcoy. But hey, everything went well.

—That Dpor was a kamikaze peln, don’t you think?

-No. But it is true that we were going for all the parties to an open grave. Over the years I have learned to tie a little further back, but I still maintain that essence. I remember that the only time the president gave me, let’s say, a warning in public was when, with 1-1, we ended up losing a game against Betis in Riazor, by a con. He had said that when you couldn’t win, well it was a draw. Well, maybe yes, but I always conceived of football in a different way. I insist that now perhaps he looks more at the defensive aspect and, above all, the tactics. Before, I left much more freedom to the players and now I understand that, even being top level, you can always contribute something to them.

—Talk about players, who has been the best player you have coached in your life?

“That’s easy: Valern.” He was a footballer who made me learn things. Watching him play and talking to him, I better understood some aspects of his position and his vision.

-And the worst?

—I usually get along well with the players, because I go straight ahead, I’m sincere, honest… But there was one, Pablo Cavallero, that I had at Levante, who behaved so badly that I think he led to my dismissal.

—Come on, he is of the opinion that a changing room can make a coach’s bed.

-Definitely. I’m not saying that they jump onto the field with the idea of ​​letting themselves win. But, going behind, they can end up kicking him out.

– What car do you have?

—In Spain, a Mercedes. Here, an A3.

-A meal?

-Paella. Unfortunately I won’t be able to eat my mother’s anymore. And then in A Corua I fell in love with the famous Betanzos tortilla.

-A drink?

-Still water.

—What was the last household chore you did?

-Scrub.

—A movie?

—Gladiator.

What kind of music do you listen to?

—A bit of everything, but mainly Spanish music from the eighties.

—Which celebrity would you go out with?

“I’ve never been a mitman. So I will go with my wife.

—For information, press, radio or television?

—I’m a lot of radio. To listen to the carousel. TV, obviously, is more complete with information. But I am a lot of written press. Currently, well, I move more with digital media, but I always went to buy the newspaper. Obviously, here, even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t understand.

—Are you a believer?

“Yes, without a doubt.

—The harshest thing you’ve been told in a field?

—Many things are said between players, that they stay on the field. As a coach, you don’t just listen to what’s inside, but what’s from the stands. But, without a doubt, the most unpleasant situation was in Granada, when a guy approached me, when I was with my son, and called me a cagón. It hurt me for being a lie, because I was never a coach like that, and for going with my son.