2 hours ago
2
When the news cycle spins so fast, it’s worth remembering where Brentford were in the summer. They had lost their popular manager of seven years, Thomas Frank. They had lost their two best forwards, Bryan Mbeumo and Yoane Wissa. They had lost their goalkeeper Mark Flekken. And they had lost two stalwarts in Christian Nørgaard and Ben Mee (even if the latter’s involvement the previous season had been limited as he turned 35). Departure and replacement is an unavoidable part of life for a club such as Brentford, but this seemed a like a lot to deal with.
Their summer signings were hard to judge. As a rule of thumb, if Brentford are signing someone about whom you already have considered opinions, it’s likely something has gone awry. That said, Caoimhín Kelleher’s gifts are clear, and a fee of just under £13m seemed good value for a goalkeeper with Premier League experience, while Dango Ouattara had demonstrated at Bournemouth how effective he could be either through the middle or out wide. But Antoni Milambo, Michael Kayode and Kaye Furo were unknown quantities.
But the biggest unknown was the manager – or, at least, it was unknown how effective Keith Andrews would be as a manager. Part of the issue with his credibility was that he was so familiar from his (excellent) television work. There’s always a degree of scepticism when a member of the backroom staff steps up, but it’s magnified when everyone recognises him as the Championship punditry bloke off Sky Sports.
A manager is supposed to have an aura, a mystique, to come from an elevated land with great wisdom to impart. He’s not meant to be readily pictured leaning forward on the Friday-night sofa to speak with eloquence and earnestness about West Brom’s pressing triggers or the deficiencies of Middlesbrough’s offside trap.
It was entirely reasonable in August to fear for Brentford. They have the lowest wage bill in the Premier League. Their repeated mid-table finishes are a miracle of defying gravity. With so many key elements in their recent successes departed and a new manager with no frontline experience, doubt was logical. Yet, after Thursday’s 1-1 draw with Arsenal, they sit seventh in the table, 16 points clear of the relegation zone, surely safe, and dreaming of European qualification.
Brentford have beaten Liverpool, Manchester United and Aston Villa and taken points off Chelsea and Arsenal at home. And if they win at Macclesfield in the FA Cup on Monday, they will be in the fifth round for only the third time since they reached the last eight in 1989. It’s unlikely they will match their fifth-place finish in 1936, but a best postwar season of eighth or higher is attainable.
So what’s gone right? Most obviously, there is Igor Thiago and his 17 goals this season. Injury restricted the Brazilian to one league start in 2024-25, but his potency this campaign has meant the absence of Mbeumo and Wissa has barely been noticed. Brentford’s capacity to identify talent remains extraordinary. It’s true that he scored 18 goals for Club Brugge in the season before he moved, but plenty of forwards have been rampant in a second-tier European league without being able to replicate that in the Premier League.
There’s Kayode, perhaps the best exponent of the long throw in a league obsessed by them, as was underlined again against Arsenal. There’s Kevin Schade, whose pace makes him a tremendous threat on the break. There’s the relentlessness of Keane Lewis-Potter. There’s Nathan Collins, a fine old-fashioned centre-back.
There’s Mikkel Damsgaard, slight and cerebral, more wispy academic than modern-day midfielder, but an adept unlocker of massed rearguards – when he gets the chance; Andrews often prefers a more physical option. There’s Vitaly Janelt, one of those more physical midfield options, gobbling up possession and distributing calmly.
But there is also Andrews. It’s clear the structures at Brentford are exceptional, a point only emphasised by Frank’s struggles after stepping outside that environment, but that doesn’t mean success is automatic.
Talking about his “word of the week” in pre-season may have seemed uncomfortably like Andrews had spent too much time on LinkedIn or was looking for a gig hosting one of those podcasts in which plausible people explain that you too could be as successful as them, if only you spent 20% less time sleeping and 12% more rubbing ice cubes over your sinuses while sipping a smoothie made of horse placenta, but it seems to have worked. Given Liam Rosenior’s evident popularity with the Chelsea squad, maybe it’s time to accept that the era of the brusque football man with his simple tastes (steak and chips, Spain, Billy Joel) is over and the epoch of players as wannabe CEOs is upon us.
However he’s done it, Andrews has created a side that are quick and direct, as dangerous on the counterattack as any in the Premier League. Igor Thiago is part of that, one of the most effective of the new wave of No 9s, a striker who causes central defenders physical problems.
Brentford are capable of sitting deep and absorbing pressure in a low block but, as is the modern way, also able to press hard and high when required. They are a threat from set plays, not only Kayode’s throws but also corners. And they are physical and motivated enough to win more than their fair share of duels.
There is something very modern about Brentford. But that’s not just about style of play, it’s about what they are. What is the next stage? Perhaps they can dream of a Cup run or European qualification, but Crystal Palace offer a warning of how quickly that sort of success can turn sour. The modern stratification of football means no matter how sensibly a club are run there are ceilings through which they cannot pass.
Brentford cannot deny gravity for ever. Their best players will move on and so too will their managers. But they are denying it now and they should enjoy it while they can. The doubts at the start of the season were understandable enough, but that only highlights how remarkable Brentford are.
