Roeder suffers the pain of West Ham's struggle

Manager has maintained his dignity during London club's attempt to avoid relegation from the Premiership

A motivational expert was recently asked to assess the skills of all 20 Premiership managers. He chose to examine the way they acted in that most public and pressurised of environments: the touchline dug-out.

Sir Alex Ferguson, he declared, was "intensely focused", David Moyes was "deeply involved" while Arsène Wenger had "an aura of civility". One of the most intriguing entries was for Glenn Roeder, the manager of West Ham United.

According to the expert, Roeder ­ who was diagnosed last night with a blocked blood vessel in his brain after being admitted to hospital after Monday's match against Middlesbrough ­ "contains the intense pressure as he doesn't want to let the stress get to the players. He maintains his dignity on the touchline and in interviews, but his self-conscious motivational gestures sometimes seem forced."

Anyone who has seen Roeder in action would concur. The press box at Chelsea's Stamford Bridge affords one of the worst views of the pitch, but one of the best of the dug-outs. The managers are 20 yards ahead. Last September ­ in a match which, ironically, his team won 3-2, in probably their best performance of the season ­ Roeder was almost painful to behold. He was taut, fists clenched white, body rigid. At times, he was beside himself with frustration ­ and yet he would not let it out. His actions were wooden to the point of appearing that at any moment he would split. Claudio Ranieri, the Chelsea manager, implored his players ­ Roeder appeared to berate, no, indeed, torture, himself.

Cod psychology is easy at a time like this, but if Roeder's current health problem is stress-related, the signs appear to have been there.

He has been under immense pressure ­ much more than any other Premiership manager. He cannot fail. If West Ham go down, as is highly likely, they will have had the best squad ever to be relegated and Roeder will struggle to find another managerial post. The club, also, cannot afford to fall out of the big league. Despite protestations, their finances, with a huge wage bill and a stadium to pay for, will not sustain it. The ramifications will be immense and messy.

Roeder, 47, and a father of three, is well aware of the club's heritage and importance to its community. He was born just five miles away from Upton Park and both his brothers-in-law are avid Hammers' fans. It is in his blood.

Roeder also knows that, from the day he took the job, almost two years ago, many people, including most West Ham fans, did not think he was the right man to take over from Harry Redknapp. It is difficult to succeed if you do not have the support.

But, on the coaching staff, he was popular with the young players that West Ham were desperate to hold on to. They had seen Frank Lampard say he was adamant about leaving. What about Joe Cole and Michael Carrick? When these players, alarmed at the prospect of someone such as George Graham coming in, went to see the chairman, Terry Brown, and advocated evolution, not revolution, he acceded. Giving in to the demands of players is rarely regarded as a wise policy and may mean, perhaps, that the new man is beholden to them.

Roeder may be an excellent coach, and was used by Glenn Hoddle when manager of England, but so are Brian Kidd and Stuart Gray, neither of whom lasted long in management. It also did not help that his previous experience, Gillingham and Watford, was unconvincing.

He had been a classy defender in his playing career, the peak of which was at Newcastle United. But despite his considerable accomplishments, which brought him England B recognition, he is perhaps best remembered as the exemplary professional who was charged with the thankless task of keeping Paul Gascoigne on the straight and narrow. Such consideration is evident in his management. He leads by consultation, rather than decree. But that can also lead to being perceived as weak.

Roeder successfully turned things around after a disastrous start to his first season. West Ham finished seventh and all appeared set for more success. However, even last year the warning signs were there. Paolo Di Canio was throwing the odd grenade as long ago as February 2002 when accusing the club's board of dishonesty over whether or not he was to be sold. "Instead, they put all the burden on Glenn Roeder," Di Canio said. "He's the scapegoat for everything," he added. Again more pressure.

Since then, of course, the Italian has had his own fall-out with Roeder and there have been awkward situations with other players such as Gary Breen and Frédéric Kanouté. The Lee Bowyer transfer did not help, either.

All clubs in trouble have their woes. They are unlikely to be happy ships. The difference with West Ham is that the respect a manager needs to maintain has been eroded time and again.

Yet, despite all this and the team's dire sequence of results, Roeder is one of those managers universally admired by his peers. Ferguson is one. "I feel for their young manager," he said before the 6-0 FA Cup humiliation Manchester United inflicted upon West Ham. "And I admire the dignity and coolness with which he has handled the setbacks."

Maintaining that apparent dignity and coolness, a Herculean task, may well have come at a price for one of the most decent men in football.