It is also possible to impact on people's lives more directly.But should he choose to leave the sport, or be squeezed out, expect him to move into politics. He enjoys the sport and, at present, the profile of the job is as high as anything in government. If he fails to be named as chief executive, he may stay in the game as long as football's star remains in the ascendant. Enough of the idealist student remains to see football as a potential force for good and, since his arrival, the FA has become much more active in promoting social causes including that of disabled football.
Having lost his father as an infant he values family life, and the stresses of this week and the summer, when the fuss about the book coincided with several close family members spending time in hospital, has given him pause for thought.Most observers expect him to take it if the chance arises. He is unsure about the effect on his family, who still live in Birmingham, though the eldest daughter is now at Oxford. He was also acting chief executive, and his need to protect the FA - and himself - overtook his desire to protect Hoddle. As Hoddle floundered Davies prospered, presenting an unflappable presence to the cameras and a strong hand to the men who will decide, this summer, whether he should be given the chief executive's role permanently.He has not publicly decided whether to apply. They once planned an April Fool's Day joke that involved faxing all the national newspapers to announce a new press conference policy - "one for journalists with joined-up writing, one for tabloids".
To Davies's enduring frustration Venables leaked the tale.Writing and surviving the World Cup book brought Davies and Hoddle close together but, last week, Davies cut Hoddle adrift as soon as he sensed the way the wind was going. The whole affair had been set up by Terry Venables.The pair formed a warm relationship based on humour. The horrific prospect of this leaking out to the press loomed. Davies was asked to come down to the station to answer questions and to organise an identity parade Then one of the policemen cracked, and burst out laughing. He was awoken by a call from reception informing him that a retired colonel living near the hotel had complained about the noise. He went outside, couldn't hear a thing, but told the players - who were not drunk - to keep the noise down, and went back to bed.He was awoken again to be told that the colonel had complained to the police that two players had been running around naked in the hotel gardens and had been seen by his teenage daughters The police were downstairs They said the colonel wanted to press charges. Long before the denouement it was obvious that the pay-off would be "and I was that poor student".But Davies can laugh at himself and happily tells a tale from Euro '96, the football championship England hosted three years ago.
One night Davies had retired to bed early, leaving the players celebrating an important victory. The guards freed him after he said the magic words "Bob-bee Charl-ton". Davies's desire to tell a story had got the better of his judgement. He later admitted: "I wanted to be involved, as I had never written a book before - but I won't be doing another in a hurry."He can also, notes a friend, be "pompous".
Two years ago, at a reception in the British Embassy in Rome to promote England's 2006 World Cup Bid, Davies told a rambling tale about the guest of honour, the former Manchester United and England footballer Sir Bobby Charlton. It was about an intrepid back-packing student in the Seventies who found himself imprisoned at an Iron Curtain border town for having the wrong papers. The media was divided by Venables: they either loved or hated him Hoddle wanted to avoid this and sought to be even-handed. Thus, when he decided to write a book about England's World Cup campaign last summer, as had previous England coaches, he and Davies decided that Davies should "ghost-write" for him.It was a public relations disaster.