Ricky Hill: ‘This generation of black coaches is still hitting a brick wall’

“SSome people still believe that if you are good enough, you will get a chance. But that’s the biggest misconception out there,” says Ricky Hill as he reflects on the shameful lack of black coaches and executives in professional football. “There is a system that refuses to change.”

We are in Hill’s living room in Bedfordshire, a short drive from Kenilworth Road, where he made his name as a sublime and cerebral midfielder for Luton in the 1980s. There were also international caps, with Hill becoming the fourth black player to win an England cap and the first of South Asian descent. But when he decided to enter management in the early 1990s, he encountered ingrained prejudices, an old boys network and too many closed doors.

Since then, he has been on the front lines for justice and equality. Three decades later, Hill is stunned at how little things have changed. Certainly, the game is much more diverse on the field and there is less overt racism. But when it comes to the dugout and the boardroom, football is stuck in a time warp.

Last August, he sued Major League Soccer, the United Soccer League and several clubs, alleging racial discrimination in their hiring practices in cases that are still ongoing. He also has serious questions for English football. How can it be, asks Hill, that 43% of Premier League and 34% of Football League players are black, when the number of black managers in English football can generally be counted on one hand? Or that, according to a 2020 PFA studyless than 2% of senior executives and directors in senior positions are black or from another ethnic minority?

“When I moved into management, some said black people didn’t want to coach,” he says. “We were later told to get our badges so we would be ready when a job opened up. We all did that. Yet this generation is still hitting a wall.”

This despite numerous initiatives in recent years. “We’ve had Show Racism the Red Card, Kick It Out, the Football Leadership Diversity Code, the Voluntary Recruitment Code and the Rooney Rule,” says Hill. “But the bottom line is the needle isn’t moving. The numbers still don’t really change. And I believe some of that policy has actually become a shield for different institutions.”

Not only is it harder for black managers to get a job, Hill says, it is also much harder for them to return to the managerial merry-go-round if it is perceived that they failed in their previous job. “I love Wayne Rooney,” says Hill. “He started well at Derby but after he went to DC United he found it difficult. Then he leaves and gets Birmingham. Good luck to him, but it is also clear that even though he has no proven track record, he will still get the opportunities.”

Hill is a fascinating and warm company. But he refuses to pull punches. The subject is too important for that. Is English football sleepwalking when it comes to its size. “100%,” he says. “All I have ever wanted is for potential black coaches and executives to have the same opportunities as everyone else. So you have to ask: why are some of these arrangements voluntary? Equality should never be voluntary.”

The Premier League says it is committed to increasing the representation of coaches from black, Asian and minority ethnic backgrounds and is working to address the under-representation of black former players in coaching and other technical roles.

It also points to success stories such as Jon-Paul Pittman, who started the coaching journey with the help of the Premier League’s professional player-to-coach program and now works at Brentford. However, its CEO, Richard Masters, recently admitted that “the game needs to do more.” For Hill it must be much more.

Last year he wrote to Masters telling him that such ‘piecemeal’ initiatives were ‘a smokescreen’ and that the occasional black manager in the Premier League ‘should not detract from the appalling treatment meted out to black British ex-professionals over the past thirty years have undergone. period, through a game that emphasizes that equality is for everyone.”

So what should be done? For starters, Hill is urging the Premier League, Football Association and English Football League to closely examine what the NBA and NFL have done to improve diversity. About half of the NBA’s coaches are black, while American football has also made significant progress since Colin Kaepernick took a knee to protest racism in America.

Following the killing of George Floyd, the NFL pledged $250 million over ten years in 2020 to combat systemic racism and support the fight against the injustices faced by African Americans. It also gives up to $205,000 per team for two or three years if they hire a minority offensive coach or woman for a full-time role as part of a new initiative to provide more opportunities for diverse coaching candidates.

That would help, says Hill, who would also like to see the Premier League set up a fund for qualified, racially diverse former elite players so they can set up development programs in their communities. “It comes down to intent versus illusion,” says Hill. “There is a clear intention from the NFL and only an illusion from the Premier League. How many more years of evidence about the lack of diversity in the senior ranks of English football are needed before significant action is taken?”

To ensure fairness, Hill would like the proposed football regulator to require an independent expert to sit on any interview panel when senior management and leadership positions are discussed.

Finally, Hill believes it’s long past time for the game’s biggest sponsors to speak out – whether it’s Barclays and Budweiser in the Premier League or Apple and Adidas in the MLS. Especially since such brands are usually keen to emphasize their commitment to inclusivity and diversity.

“Until those who aren’t affected by it become as outraged as those who are affected by it, things won’t change,” he says. “That’s where sponsors come into the picture. It would be very powerful if they could put pressure on the game to change.”

Hill, who won multiple Coach of the Year awards and trophies during stints with the Tampa Bay Rowdies and in Trinidad, makes his points with passion and eloquence. He continues to fight on multiple fronts, including his legal action in the US. The crux of Hill’s case is that white candidates, who were “objectively less qualified,” were given jobs for which he applied but for which he did not even receive recognition of his interest – let alone job interviews.

“After I left the Tampa Bay Rowdies in 2014, my rep must have written for at least 18 to 20 jobs on my behalf over several years,” he says. “The only response that came was from Atlanta, three months later, after my rep, Kieren Keane, insisted they couldn’t ignore my resume.

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s not fair. I should be given a reasonable reason for the way you came to that decision. If it’s meritocracy, judge my resume on its merits just like anyone else. That didn’t happen.”

As Hill notes, these rejections came despite the Rooney Rule, which has required clubs since 2007 to interview a black or minority ethnic candidate for senior roles. The legal action continues, with the USL and MLS seeking to dismiss the cases against them, claiming they have no involvement in or control over the recruiting practices of their respective franchises.

Hill’s lawyers say neither league has taken a position on whether there was actual discrimination in his cases. “These cases have taken a lot of expense, time and effort,” Hill said. “But hopefully it will create some kind of equality, not just for me, but for everyone.”

Whatever happens in court, the 64-year-old promises he will continue to bring accountability to the game he loves so that the next generation can enjoy the opportunities he was denied.

“I will fight this until my last breath,” he says. “I have no choice. I never had an inferiority complex as a player and I still don’t when it comes to my ability to be part of a game I love passionately.

“Believe it or not, I have experienced many more obstacles than highlights. But I still love football and I owe that to my family. When the time comes when I can no longer fight, at least I can say I tried.”