I make no apologies for starting a column about the state of LaLiga by referencing Sir Alex Ferguson — a man who more than once turned down the chance to manage Barcelona.

While ‘Fergie’ was becoming the most dominant and arguably greatest manager in the history of British football thanks to what he achieved at both Aberdeen and Manchester United, the range of admirable talents and tactics he employed was vast. One of the lesser-known philosophies he held dearly was nettle-grasping.

This tough, adventurous man, who fundamentally believed that his gambler’s instinct would see him through almost any situation, felt strongly that he was better than any of his managerial rivals at confronting a problem, assessing it and then acting fearlessly having assimilated the pros and cons of the decision he was about to take.

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Particularly in his pomp at Old Trafford, Ferguson believed that most other managers prevaricated and indeed feared facing up to and acting upon onerous, threatening, and complicated issues.

The bellicose Scot, who turned 82 on Sunday, had an attitude that if he took tough decisions relatively quickly, having readied himself for the possibility that he wouldn’t get it right, United would still leave other rivals in their slipstream because far too many in football are rooted in thinking ‘what if I get it wrong?’

A potent combination of self-interest, ego, fear for job security, and being overwhelmed by day-to-day decision-making had, Fergie reckoned across his career, often left his competitors in a sort of paralysis, hesitant, or even outright unwilling, to ‘grasp the nettle.’ And, therefore, be weaker as a result. However good he was, however relentless, smart, ambitious and visionary, Ferguson loved it when his rivals handed him any kind of competitive advantage and this, he believed was an important, under-estimated one.

Part of the reason for sharing this is to emphasise that while the true behemoths who play any sport are usually more reliant on their outstanding individual greatness to take charge of their destiny than rely upon the fallibility of rivals, that equation changes when you are a coach, manager or club president.

Lionel Messi, Michael Jordan, Simone Biles, Tom Brady, Michelle Akers….just a handful of examples of superstars who, whether their rivals were superb or supine, achieved greatness because they could take contests and, individually, twist them to their will. When you are steering something huge, made up of many, many moving parts (players, scouts, other coaches, doctors, physios, fitness staff, dieticians, psychologists, analysts, media and comms specialists, plus endless directors, owners, presidents, etc) the individual capacity to either ensure success or to steer away from potential disaster is a slower, more complex process. If your serious rivals are either stupid, inept, error-strewn, broke, lacking in vision, or perpetually engaged in fire-fighting then, of course, it’s easier to succeed — even if you don’t get everything right all the time.

On that basis, a penny for the thoughts of Florentino Pérez as we enter 2024. Real Madrid’s president is all-powerful at his club, unchallenged in any way, and looks set to enter into (another) era of sporting and commercial dominance. He’s just renewed the contract of his successful and much-loved first-team manager Carlo Ancelotti, his team is packed full of young, hungry, elite talent, his stadium project is nearing completion and, it’s to be expected, the Santiago Bernabeu can become a motor which drives both on-pitch and revenue success.

And, who knows, the next couple of weeks just might result in him recruiting the man I’d rate as, pound-for-pound, the world’s best footballer — Kylian Mbappé. But when Don Florentino looks north, south, east, or west I’d wager, heavily, that he permits himself long, derogatory, and mocking laughter at many of his competitors. Four or five stand out right now.

Alongside Barcelona, who remain a wounded and self-damaging soap opera just about staggering from episode to episode, there must be listed Sevilla, Celta Vigo, Villarreal, and Valencia. You may well have watched or simply heard about the multi Golden Globe and Emmy-award winning HBO series “Succession” — if so you’ll have no difficulty in relating it to what’s going on at Sevilla, Celta, and Villarreal.

Perhaps things are most pungent at Sevilla, where there’s just been a change in presidency. This vastly successful club which, over the last two decades, has set a template for how to transfer players in and out while relentlessly winning trophies is in the mire. Deep, deep in it.

To make a brief summary of the “Succession” situation, Sevilla were led between 2002 to 2013 by José María del Nido Sr. until he was jailed for corruption in his commercial life, between 2013 and this week, Jose Castro (Del Nido’s hated enemy) and as of Dec. 31, 2023, by Del Nido’s son — also José.

At the last Sevilla board meeting, a month ago, the outgoing president, Castro, complained: “From the first day of my presidency 10 years ago I’ve had Del Nido Sr. boycotting everything we’ve tried to do, he’s been an enemy to this board — firstly from within his jail cell then, once out, with more intensity wherever possible. We’ve been the targets of someone who’s been convicted of robbery — his ego has made him a sick man.”

Del Nido Jr. was first brought on to the Sevilla board by his father as a junior member as far back as 2006 and rose to have been vice-president in recent years. So, in principle, you’d have imagined that Del Nido the elder would be thrilled that Castro was out, and his first-born son was now president and leading the club — hopefully out of their increasingly ugly situation. But no. In that same seven-hour board meeting a month ago Del Nido Sr. yelled out at his son that he was “a piece of s—!” And as soon as the pre-agreed movement took place on New Year’s Eve — Castro out, and Del Nido Jr. succeeding him — Del Nido Sr. put out a coruscating statement in which he complained: “There have been illegitimate movements in the club’s board, they continue to deny me the right to vote, while they award themselves salaries worthy of Sultans — we have appointed the most illegitimate president [his son] in the history of the club”

It’s a saga that will continue with its grim Punch and Judy nonsense for many months to come but the principal victim will be the football operations at Sevilla. They were nearly relegated last season, and they are fighting that dreadful prospect again this term. They sacked the emergency guy (José Luis Mendilibar) who was parachuted in to save them at the last minute and managed to win another European trophy, they are in much more debt than they should be and the recent appointment of manager Quique Sanchez Flores means it’s 10 coaches appointed, sacked and paid off since 2016. The club is in a mess but the leadership, clarity, steadiness and sense of purpose needed (the very thing which, overall, Pérez has brought Madrid since taking over again in 2009) will be absent while the civil war between Del Nidos Sr. and Jr. continues.

Celta is a little different. But there are similarities. Late last year their 80-year-old ex-president, the eccentric and idiosyncratic Carlos Mouriño, handed over power to his daughter Marian. There were some golden years under Mouriño’s presidency — better finances, presence in European competitions, and, latterly, a much more atmospheric, renewed Balaidos stadium. But they’ve been flirting with relegation for years now, Mouriño Sr. was something of an absentee landlord, and his capacity to avert the creeping tendrils of life in the basement of LaLiga seemed hugely diminished.

Immediately when his daughter took over she ended the situation of Celta sharing a director of football with Paris Saint-Germain (Luis Campos) — one of the strangest ideas I’ve ever seen in football. Let’s hope she’s sharper, more dynamic, more able to construct a strong squad than her father has been for some years (nine coaches in six-and-a-half seasons). Celta sit third bottom of LaLiga, three points worse off than Sevilla.

As for Villarreal, I’ll return to what’s ailing them another day but, suffice it to say, the transition of power from their visionary, billionaire owner Fernando Roig to his son, Fernando Jr, is one where the patriarch keeps telling everyone “the youngster’s in charge” but keeps on involving himself and butting in with the inevitable result that instability follows. European winners a couple of seasons ago and Champions League semi-finalists in May 2022 they’re currently only six points off relegation.

Valencia? Well, no inheritance/”Succession” problems there — just a frustrated, angry owner, a fan base that hates him and his policies, and a manager who’s desperately in need of well-bought, high-quality, experienced footballers to build a patchy and extremely young squad.

All four of these teams, historically, have been able to launch periodic challenges to Spain’s hegemony but, as Madrid approach a period where they should be ultra-strong and able to dominate, Sevilla, Celta, Villarreal and Valencia are in varying degrees of dilemma, angst, confusion and acrimony. Rivals who damage and undermine themselves. Florentino, just as Sir Alex Ferguson did in his day, will be loving it.