The messianic, manic world of driven Dowie

The promotion battle: Palace at the threshold of a dream return - thanks to mind games of a workaholic

Down at Crystal Palace's training ground and it's not long after 8am. The manager, Iain Dowie, is talking. About empowerment, Patch Adams, Billy Bingham, basketball, the LA Raiders, Roy Keane, the laundry lady at Oldham Athletic, the death of his father, being apart from his wife and sons, joining Leeds United, the decline of manufacturing, Didier Deschamps, women's hockey, Wilma Rudolph, water recovery, endorphins, amnesia, insomnia and - unsurprisingly - the dangers of burn-out.

Down at Crystal Palace's training ground and it's not long after 8am. The manager, Iain Dowie, is talking. About empowerment, Patch Adams, Billy Bingham, basketball, the LA Raiders, Roy Keane, the laundry lady at Oldham Athletic, the death of his father, being apart from his wife and sons, joining Leeds United, the decline of manufacturing, Didier Deschamps, women's hockey, Wilma Rudolph, water recovery, endorphins, amnesia, insomnia and - unsurprisingly - the dangers of burn-out.

It is an extraordinary performance. For an hour and 10 minutes it goes on. And this is just a scheduled pre-match press conference ahead of today's crucial game against Coventry City. A draw will see Palace - unbelievably - into the play-offs. Occasionally a young manager, like a young player, comes into view and is marked down as one to watch. The 39-year-old Dowie leaves his audience transfixed. He demands attention. Put simply, he will either become one of the big names in football management... or he will disappear without trace through exhaustion. The former is more likely. He is messianic. Some would say simply manic.

But whatever it is, it works. His effect on Palace has been as profound as the huge reserves of energy he clearly throws into the job. His day starts early - he can't sleep - when he pores over books and tries to glean information. That morning he woke at 5am and finished the autobiography of rugby league coach Jack Gibson before turning to Roy Keane's book. "I'm not a great sleeper," Dowie admits. "I cannot switch off, which is a weakness. You have to be able to do so, otherwise you burn out."

Burn-out. It's something he has talked about to John Harbin, his fitness coach and, dare it be said, guru. Harbin first met Dowie two-and-a-bit years ago at Oldham Athletic. "Mick Wadsworth was the manager," Dowie says. "And John was the coach of Oldham Roughyeds [the rugby league side]. They were in the office talking." Harbin and Dowie went for a cup of tea. Two hours later they were still chatting. It was a meeting of minds. Strong minds. The first conversation was about the importance of plunge pools and swimming in all sports. Dowie was hooked.

When he was offered the Oldham job he turned to Harbin. "I looked in his eye and there was a bit of a sparkle," Dowie says. "Since then we've been close. He's got great standards, a terrific work ethic that matches mine. I think he made the point yesterday that the trouble with us is that we burn people out."

And Harbin can speed-read. "John hands me a piece of paper," says Dowie, "and it might have a story by Mark Twain or Wilma Rudolph [the American girl diagnosed with polio who went on to win three Olympic golds]. Other players remember key incidents in their career. I don't have that. I probably couldn't tell you how many games I've played. But I can remember stories from books. I'm a great believer in the good of people, I like feelgood films and they stick in my mind."

Like Patch Adams, the saccharine Hollywood rendition of a palliative doctor - "Treat the disease and you win or lose. You treat the person and you win every time," recalls Dowie. Such quotations loom large. He wants to improve the person as well as the player. "You have to empower. Give responsibility," he says. Dowie hands out "tip sheets" - a page and a half of A4 - which boil down the strengths and weaknesses of opponents. "Bullet points. They read it over their chicken and pasta," he says. "And I ask questions." Dowie has his own "buzz words". He refuses to divulge them. "They're mine," he says drawing much from American sports.

Nevertheless, Dowie has worked his way through the "big book of Oxford quotations", and a current favourite is on the wall of Harbin's office. "You make a living by what you get, you make a life by what you give," it says. "That's an ethos in life, not just sport," says Dowie. "And I read another today: 'Listen to the player's story, listen to his real story and then really listen to his story'.

"And that's important. Everyone has problems. I had an incident when I was a player at West Ham when I did something ridiculous. My dad was seriously ill and Harry [Redknapp, his manager] dealt with it in a good fashion. I got fined and quite right but he never held it against me. It was a stupid bit of behaviour." Basically, he drank before a game.

His father died of cancer. It hit Dowie hard. Everyone knows he is a qualified engineer. He went into the profession, and worked for British Aerospace, because of his dad. He, too, was an early riser, starting his shift at 5.30am and coming home just before midnight. So both his sons followed him. Iain was a good student - he passed his masters degree with a commendation - but "it was never a vocation". In truth he wanted to be a doctor. "Something special," he says. Teaching also is a "great thing". Football? "Is a love, a desire and it makes people feel good and makes the endorphins flow when you win."

At Palace they have been in overdrive of late. Dowie lost his first game in charge - to Millwall on Boxing Day - with the club 20th and 14 places and 13 points off the play-off places. Since then they have collected 45 points from 20 games, including 14 victories and just three defeats. "Since I've been here the players have been consistently magnificent," Dowie says. As has he.

The work ethic is phenomenal. The training schedule doubled. Players are in at 8am and still there at 4pm. There are personal development days, and Dowie has cherry-picked from everyone he has worked for - from the tactical nous of Gerry Francis to the adversity of Northern Ireland's Bingham. Dowie made the best of what he had: he captained his adopted country, he played against the best.

But it has been sapping. He felt badly let down by Oldham (he stays in contact, via text messages, with staff there, such as those who wash the kit) and has only been offered an 18-month deal with Palace. Dowie moved his family up to the North-west, to Bolton, and now only sees them "24 hours a week". Rumours surfaced that he was going to Leeds United. Dowie recounts a story about his seven-year-old son, William. "He said, 'Daddy, does that mean you're coming home?' "

Either way, Dowie won't stay away from them long. He or his family will move. "It's a huge sacrifice and one that doesn't sit easily with me," he says. But the demands of being a manager do. He's met his métier. It is almost as if his career has been in preparation for this. "I love it," he says. "There's ultimate highs and gut-wrenching lows. But I want to pit my wits against the best."

He was envious of Monaco's coach, Didier Deschamps, in midweek, but responds to the bond the French World Cup winner clearly has with his players. "If I did ever get to the Premiership, then imagine," says Dowie. "Never mind waking at 5am. I'd never go to bed."