Rupert the Chair

IF YOU'D informed the fans who angrily pelted Rupert Lowe's car with their season tickets four years ago, the chairman's name would one day be chanted gleefully from the stands, they'd probably have (very naturally) told you where to go.

For since his controversial appointment in 1997, Southampton Football Club's chairman seems to have knuckled down and done the business.

He has fulfilled his pledges to fans to keep the club in the Premiership and built them a new home in St Mary's.

From being the butt of jokes and vociferous criticism, Lowe is now regarded almost in soft focus, an unexpected hero.

The snide comments and calls of "Rupert the Share" have made way for the refrain of "Rupert Lowe's red and white army".

At first glance, The Friends Provident St Mary's Stadium appears a most unnatural habitat for his sort of creature.

For Lowe comes from the vintage claret end of the social spectrum with which few of us are acquainted.

As a child he attended The Dragon in Oxfordshire, an exclusive preparatory school, before going on to Radley, a public school where pupils learn to play rugby, not football.

He did a degree in Estate Management at Reading University, a course normally filled to the brim with Sloanes.

Indeed, the library there is a bit noisy because of the sound of rustling Barbours.

Lowe even has the ruddied cheeks of a country gent, hair that looks like it's been thatched messily and has retained some of his boyish good looks.

From university the budding businessman plunged himself into the city, only emerging when his company took over Southampton in a reverse take-over.

Rupert and glamorous wife Nicky have four children, Freddie, ten, Angus, seven, Jemima, five, and Iona, one.

Their home is a Gloucestershire farmhouse, deep in the heart of the Cotswolds.

It's here to which he retreats when working on a sensitive transfer deal: "Confidentiality is necessary sometimes to protect our commercial interest."

Yet this exquisitely-spoken lord of the manor, whose clothes declare his breeding, also has an estate in central Southampton.

One where, instead of rolling hills, grazing livestock and hay barns, there's manicured turf, endless rows of seats and scurrying workmen.

One which is also home to the Saints.

Sometimes his friends come to visit him for lunch in Southampton before watching a match.

While some smart people have accessories like race horses and yachts to show off, Lowe has a football club (and you can bet he's probably the only one in his group of acquaintances to do so).

Lowe has been in our midst for four years, making decisions crucial to the future of a football club close to the hearts of thousands of us yet, to this day, we know very little of the man.

Despite his achievements, Lowe is obviously tense about being interviewed.

He shouts menacingly into his mobile when called to arrange a meeting.

On arriving at the stadium, we're shut in a windowless room for a full ten minutes before Lowe bursts in, barking into his phone.

The call ends, but the mobile is left switched on.

He sits down among boxes of photographs and paintings, with his arms folded, or twiddling a pen between his fingers.

This nervousness is surprising and Lowe tries to hide the unease beneath a business-like brusqueness.

Attempts at scene-setting burbling chit-chat fall on stony ground.

Southampton would like to know a bit more about him, I say, repeating the pre-amble we had discussed a month previously.

He stiffens slightly and it soon becomes apparent this is not on the cards.

He says he's here to talk about the club, to talk football.

Whatever way you limber round to raising the subject of his private life, he heads you off.

Instead he fixes you with an unwavering gaze as he rapidly puts his points across in crisp aristocratic tones.

The general feeling for the journalist is not dissimilar to being lain in the middle of a road in front of a steadily-approaching steam roller.

Or being in front of a machine gun.

Local newspapers and their football team tend to rub along like families, an inescapably close relationship which can grate.

Lowe is currently unhappy with the Daily Echo.

He expects consistent positive coverage and says it's what the fans want too. Sticky.

"How old are you?"

The phrase "How old do you think I am?" is slammed back (but there's a gleam in his eye).

Err, Ahh, Um. (stress, pressure, possible complete disintegration of interview).

"40????? (an almost whispered suggestion).

"I'm 43,"

Phew. That was close.

Lowe is clearly an intelligent and determined man who, when he gets his teeth into something, is like a terrier with a rat. Take Europe for example.

He's an active member of the apolitical group Business for Sterling.

In 1997, Lowe stood as a general election candidate representing the Referendum Party in his home Cotswold constituency.

He notched up enough votes (3,393) not to lose his deposit.

And he's distinctly pleased with the achievement.

"My wife told me to stop beefing about it and do something. The Referendum Party carried out a very valuable campaign. I don't want to be governed from Europe - I would rather have an accountable sovereign parliament.

"I'm not particularly political in terms of Tories or Labour. I believe in individual freedom and diversity - I don't like any minority being oppressed by the majority."

Lowe entered our lives as chairman of Secure Retirement PLC, the listed company whose reverse take-over of the Saints in January 1997 enabled the club to be floated on the stock exchange.

The city boy, who had only watched his first professional football match six months before, entered a whole new red and white striped world of transfers, penalty shoot-outs and relegation zones.

Six months later, in June 1997, Lowe took over the chairmanship of the club from Guy Askham.

While still chairman-elect he entered into the fray of the most mighty media spat that followed the resignations of manager Graeme Souness and beloved "Mr Southampton" Lawrie McMenemy, who had both left claiming limitations on their spending power were too tough to swallow.

In practically the same amount of time it takes to say "football's coming home" a staggering £3m was wiped off the value of the club with a 12 per cent slump in the share price.

The balloon went up, stuff hit the fan, there was stamping of feet and gnashing of teeth.

The fury of the fans sparked a fireball of hate and, after being initially out-quoted in the public battle of words which ensued, Lowe came away from his first football skirmish unscarred.

In doing so he showed himself to be verbally pugnacious, blasting back allegations at radio phone-ins and face-to-face meetings with fans.

"Souness resigned from the Tel Aviv Hilton entirely of his own volition," Lowe maintains.

"I still see him. I bear him no ill - he's doing very well. Lawrie McMenemy decided he would resign. I spent a long time on the phone trying to persuade him to stay. He's obviously still a very popular figure with the supporters."

It was time for action and it's fair to say Lowe went on the offensive.

He went to all the games, talked to the players, took them clay pigeon shooting.

Then Lowe put on his climbing shoes and set off on a steep learning curve.

Souness accuses him of footballing naivety and mistakes in his autobiography.

He may have a point but there's no doubting Lowe's taken on board a lot.

"There were negative influences which weren't normal - there was a lot of angst and ire that had built up over the year," he says of 1997.

The first year nobody knew me so I got a bit of abuse. I didn't get into football by design, I got into it by default.

"I'm a sportsman; I played football. I play a lot of hockey and I play cricket. I don't think they should hold against me the fact I'm not a footballer.

"My job is to make sure the club is run properly and that's what we have strived to do. I've hardly missed a game.

"I like to win at the end of the day. If you like to win, there's no better game to be in than football, and no worse game to be in when you're losing.

"The fact the fans care so deeply about the club is a good thing.

"I think there is a hard core of fans who would be negative if we won the league. That's the nature of some people."

The fact Lowe didn't pass his entire childhood booting a football and swooning over strikers isn't necessarily a bad thing.

It means he brings a certain business-like emotional objectivity to the running of the club.

And he's certainly needed it given what has happened during his tenure.

One crisis occurred when manager Dave Jones was charged with serious allegations of which he was eventually very publicly declared not-guilty.

"When I look back at that I wish it had never happened. It was an injustice to him and us.

"We were forced into a situation by the State, we stood by him until the court case was confirmed and then we had no choice. We did what we had to do. I don't think we could have done anything different. It cost both the club and Dave Jones an awful lot of money.

"We can't recover any more money unless we can prove the prosecution was brought maliciously. This in itself is a grave injustice. I haven't seen anyone being brought to book for wasting so much money and potentially destroying the life of an innocent man."

He added that an employment tribunal cleared the club of acting with any impropriety.

Then there was Jones' successor Glenn Hoddle, who sprinkled the team with his magical managerial talent then disappeared in a puff of smoke, rushing back into the welcoming arms of his emotional home at White Hart Lane.

"Glenn did a great job for the club. I think it's sad he did what he did and I'm disappointed on a personal level that he felt it right to walk out on his team with nine matches left.

"After the Everton match he went on holiday and I never saw him again, a display which struck me of selfishness - which in my book is unacceptable.

"Tottenham needed to prove to Anderton and Campbell that they meant business and that's why I think they did it."

Saints were compensated for Glenn's departure by Tottenham but there was the issue of whether or not it had been an illegal approach.

"We concluded that, whilst we're not happy, the best policy is to get on with our own lives. We play in the same league.

"At the end of the day a petty recrimination of any kind is damaging to the reputation of the premier league."

Stuart Gray eventually replaced Hoddle but, for a while, former Chelsea manager Vialli was a possible choice.

"Our job was to look at every option. At the end of the day we have selected the right man. One has to look at what is best for the club.

"We had a short list of candidates and we researched through the market in terms of who was available. Vialli was on that list. Ultimately he went to Watford. He indicated he would rather stay in London.

"Sometimes decisions are popular. Sometimes they are not. Sometimes it's right to hire a big name. Sometimes it's right to give it to someone who is eager and keen.

"The media push their favourites and one has to cut through that."

Now Mick Wadsworth has been brought from Newcastle to bolster the coaching side.

"Bobby Robson was obviously sad to lose him. I think Robson one of the most decent people in British football.

"I appreciate the fact that it queered his pitch but we have to concentrate on what's good for Southampton."

The best thing which has happened under Lowe's tenure is the new £32m stadium.

It's, without a doubt, his biggest achievement.

"You find that that level of investment in itself forces people to either join the revolution or get left behind. It allows people to evolve.

"With a greater economy, that should give us the ability to repeat the performance of finishing in the top ten, strengthening ourselves further and challenging the people who think they are impregnable.

"Many football matches are won off the pitch with media hype. There are clubs which spend vast amounts of money and win because their economy is bigger than everyone elses.

"Clubs like Southampton, Ipswich and Charlton all out-punched their weight (last season). They are the ones who should be getting the plaudits.

"While building the stadium is important, the most important thing is to win football matches. You should let the results be the judge and jury.

"Southampton are still third favourite to be relegated. We normally start out there at this time," he shrugs playfully.

"The perception is we're still a club that's going to struggle.

"We need to be careful - a change can court problems in itself. I don't think we should underestimate the fact that change brings a risk with it.

"We have to respect everyone and fear no-one. We must not allow off-pitch influences to make us start a goal down psychologically.

"We have an excellent group of players. I don't think we've had a better team in terms of professionals. They appreciate they need to put their backs into it.

"I don't think the club's ever been stronger."

Lowe says the team has been quietly strengthened. But at what cost?

"We don't disclose the budget - if we do people start charging us more for players. Besides, we may have overspent it - you don't know."

Lowe's mobile bursts into life several times during the interview.

It's probably rude to listen (ehem) but the conversation seems to concern the hunt for a new string to the club's bow. He admits to being interested in Bierhoff.

In his quest for good players Lowe isn't afraid of tackling the authorities.

He appealed twice over the DfEE's decision not to give Marian Pahars a work permit, but believes his attempts were also hampered by the footballing establishment.

"We tried to bring Ahmed Hossam, who played for Ghent, in at the end of last season but we were frustrated by work permit regulations. In the end he went elsewhere. The whole thing seems slightly bizarre."

Asked if he's a hard-nosed businessman and the easing nervousness returns with accompanying sharpness.

"If you get involved in something, you've got to make sure you win. If somebody tells me I can't do something it immediately makes me want to do it.

"At the end of the day we've set out and done something which is satisfying to have achieved."

Suddenly, an hour into the interview, Lowe finally relaxes.

A few questions about his family and he suddenly announces we've had enough of his time and he's got another meeting to go to. We've got five minutes for photographs and there's a clatter of lenses as the Daily Echo snapper bursts into life.

Lowe strides off at considerable pace into the bowels of the new stadium, admitting over his shoulder that he still gets lost in the rabbit warren of corridors.

There's dust everywhere and holes in the ceiling, complete with wires tumbling out of them.

Is he going to leave?

"I've no plans to do anything other than develop the club. Ultimately, there always comes a time when change becomes necessary. It's our job as a board to make sure when it's necessary it happens."

Away from the glare of a reporters' notebook and, believing himself unobserved, Lowe smiles with pride at his new stadium.

As we leave he's looking very much the part talking to builders, hands on hips - very much the lord of the manor, his fox-like features aglow.