Avram Grant: from the rubble, a tale of honour and redemption

"Football is more than football." – Avram Grant, football manager, philosopher, folk hero.

The financial disintegration of Portsmouth has been the biggest story of the Premier League season but from the rubble has emerged another, more heartening tale. A tale of honour, redemption and city-wide man-love. Avram Grant's team may be bottom of the table but the Fratton Park faithful have taken the Israeli firmly to their bosom. Supporters of tonight's visitors, Chelsea, may marvel at the metamorphosis of the manager whom they mostly ridiculed despite the fact that he took them to the Champions League final.

At Stamford Bridge, "Avram Can't" was derided as an unqualified boss's stooge and for not being José Mourinho. At Fratton Park, he has become "Uncle Avram", the charismatic people's champion whose waves to the crowd are greeted as joyously as home goals. In his honour, fans hold aloft a large Israel flag before every game and plans are afoot to make a gigantic banner featuring just his beloved head in time for the FA Cup semi-final.

Reaching Wembley fuelled his popularity, of course, especially as it meant sinking Southampton en route, but it is not his tactical acumen and frequently seminal substitutions that have made Grant adored – though he has been justly acclaimed for decisions such as introducing Quincy Owusu-Abeyie to change the game against Southampton, or Kanu to do likewise against Hull last Saturday, and recalling Nadir Belhadj to nullify Glen Johnson against Liverpool or pushing Marc Wilson into midfield against Burnley. Football is more than football. Grant has become more than a manager.

Few people wanted the Portsmouth job after seeing how shabbily Paul Hart seemed to be treated and what little prospect there was for improvement. Since Grant took it in November, almost every week has given him a new good reason to drop it and flee. He was misled about the situation he inherited, the transfer funds he thought he'd be given did not exist and even if they did it wouldn't have mattered because the club were hit with a transfer ban; rather than buy in January, he had to sell his best defender, Younes Kaboul, and his most promising keeper, Asmir Begovic; then came talk of a winding up order and a points deduction; then his salary didn't come. It took a lot less than that for Alan Curbishley, for example, to leave West Ham, the club he supported since childhood, or for Kevin Keegan to storm out of Newcastle, the club where he'd been proclaimed the Messiah. But Grant has not walked. He has stayed. Because he cares. Not like a professional, but like a gentleman who has found a loyalty he can't break, a loving father who cannot and will not abandon his family. A fanatic.

Grant has become both the fans' leader and their man on the inside. And the Pompey players have picked up on Grant's loyalty by clubbing together to save four of the club's training staff from redundancy by paying their wages. Grant's most famous press conference at Chelsea was a transparent protest against media who were against him before they even knew who he was, but at Portsmouth he has found a more uplifting way to stand up to perceived bullies. He rallies and he rails, his outbursts and aphorisms helping to preserve the hope and dignity of a downtrodden, disenfranchised people, who have had to watch impotently as their club has been paraded across the land naked, dumb and impoverished. "You can break many things but you will never break our spirit!" Grant said after the FA Cup victory over Birmingham. "We will fight till the end," he continually declares in Churchillian, or perhaps quixotic, tones. Judging by the team's mostly vibrant performances in spite of the club's glum, grubby predicament, he makes similar speeches in the dressing room. "Football is more than football," he propounded as the points deduction loomed. "I told the players that we do not have the power to change what the Premier League does but we have the power to make people happy and that is a beautiful thing." Little wonder David James calls him Yoda. And little wonder the atmosphere at Fratton Park will still be festive tonight.

Like all the best folk heroes, Grant is probably doomed to failure. Pompey will be relegated and probably won't win the Cup. And no matter how much the manager protests, the Premier League certainly won't reinstate the nine points. On one level, Grant's rage against the inevitable points deduction is senseless, but on another his incessant insistence that it is a "wrong and bad decision" is endearing, containing, as it does, the wise and splendid implication that what is wrong is sometimes good.

Cynics might say all this is canny PR, that Grant, and Portsmouth's valiant players, are merely continuing to do their jobs well so that they can get better ones somewhere else next season. Fair enough, that may be true. It may also be true that anyone who is willing to get to know Grant will realise he is a good coach. And a good guy.