Susie Rushton: When the coach must find the right words

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OK, let's imagine I'm in the England team. Today is a day for stretching. A massage, perhaps. But, mostly, I'm just thinking. Focusing on the words of my coach. If they're the right words, they could make all the difference. Fabio Capello has instructed England players to "believe in themselves" but also to "know that they can do better".

It's textbook sports psychology. First, give a compliment, to lift spirits. Then add criticism, to spur effort and drive. Classically, in what's known as the "sandwich", a coach then offers a final compliment, assuaging the sting of criticism. Capello's obviously tougher than that (or maybe his English dried up). What's important is that his message is unambiguous and easy to remember.

The effect of advice is something I've experienced for myself in the last week, albeit in a rather less exalted arena than the World Cup finals. Plodding out of a sports hall in north Wales on Saturday after crashing out of a fencing competition in a pathetic 17th place, through the fog of fury and frustration and aching legs, I remembered my coach's last words: "Don't come back without a medal." By then, of course, it was too late to act on them, which is perhaps why I only made 17th. ("Don't beat yourself up over the mistakes," he also told me.)

What makes a successful piece of sports advice? The simple ideas work best. Once you combine physical exertion and all the nervous energy created by a tournament, odd things happen to one's brain. Complicated pieces of strategy are impossible to digest. Fabio Capello hasn't always been straight-talking. Bob Bradley, the USA coach, recently recalled that the Italian had once advised him, of managing a football team, "When you make wine, the grapes aren't always the same." Bradley added dryly, "The first time he told me about it I thought he was talking about wine, but then I realised he was trying to tell me something about football."

So, curt and brutish seems to work well. It may have made all the difference at the 1966 World Cup final, when, looking at a draw after 90 minutes, Alf Ramsey told the England side, "You've won it once. Now go out and win it again," adding for good measure, "Look at the Germans – they're exhausted. Don't let them think you're tired."

At high-level tennis matches, coaching from the sidelines is verboten, but the rule is frequently flouted. Rafa Nadal's uncle Toni is one of the more vocal "mood managers"; Roger Federer made an official complaint about his interventions during the 2006 Rome Masters final. The Independent's tennis correspondent, Paul Newman, tells me that some players, particularly women, look up at their coaches after almost every point (sometimes a facial expression tells you all you need to know).

Richard Williams, the father and coach of Venus and Serena, used to write motivational messages on signs and leave them around the girls' practice court. I'm not sure that "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail" would move me – it sounds more like management-consultant speak than a spark to fire up the will to win, but nobody would argue that it didn't work for his daughters.

I prefer the advice from Andre Agassi's coach Brad Gilbert, who told him: "Be like gravity. Constant pressure, weighing down your opponent," which has the virtue of creating a clear mental image. England players could do worse than adopt Gilbert's message, if Capello's words prove unmemorable. Meanwhile, I'll stick to the advice of legendary sporting gaffer Michel de Montaigne: "There are some defeats more triumphant than victories." I look forward to many more of them.

The joke's on Al

There's nothing particularly surprising about gossip that Al Gore has been having an affair with a friend's ex-wife. Change that to an affair with Larry David's ex-wife (as alleged by an American magazine yesterday) and something odd happens. Ridiculous irony kicks in. How did Al Gore know for sure he wasn't in an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, the sitcom in which David plays a version of himself, and is frequently seen trying to win back his ex-wife? Was it the bizarre life imitating art imitating life thing that made the affair so hot in Al's mind? I find it beyond weird. It's a bit like checking into a hotel in Torquay only to discover that it's being managed by John Cleese's brother, or buying a house that turns out to be owned by Kirstie Allsopp.

Out of fashion

It's a myth that fashion designers can see into the future, predicting for months, and even years, in advance how society will change. But they are often sensitive souls, open to new ideas. Coco Chanel was an ardent modernist. Christian Dior caught the spirit of the times in 1945 when he introduced the lavish New Look skirt after the end of the war. It's fairly certain that in 50 years' time historians won't be describing Julien Macdonald as a man who had one perma-tanned finger on the zeitgeist.

On the possibility of a plus-size (ie bigger than size 10) model taking the title on Britain's Top Model, of which he is a judge, he said this week: "This is a serious show. You can't have a plus-size girl winning – it makes it a joke."

I think the producers of that television show should take note that Macdonald has not been taken seriously as a fashion designer for a long time. Once, he was head of Givenchy. But over the years he has made himself, literally, a joke, by sending silly celebrities down his catwalk and neglecting his talent. The rest of the fashion industry has been adjusting its approach to catwalk models for several years. Macdonald just sounds behind the times.

s.rushton@independent.co.uk