The past is another country. Especially for Tony Adams. The future may be another country for Adams, too. “I’d like to be the man who rehabilitates the reputation of English coaches in Europe,” he said when we met in Central London. “When I was at Feyenoord, the feeling was that coaching in this country was a little bit ... old-fashioned.”

It is a polite way of saying that foreign football thinkers tend to mock English attitudes. “I’d like to be the one who changes that,” Adams said.

This seems a bold statement from a man sacked by Portsmouth in February. Yet if anyone has the credentials to succeed abroad, it is Adams. His stock is much higher on the Continent than in Britain, where most observers take a narrow view of the former England captain’s management career.

Spells in the Netherlands with Feyenoord and Utrecht broadened his managerial awareness, putting meat on the bones of the knowledge acquired as a player under George Graham and Arsène Wenger at Arsenal. Adams is now a familiar face around European training grounds, talking, learning and watching elite coaches at work.

So where might the next job come from? “I’ve never managed in France or Spain,” Adams said. “But I’ve never managed in the Championship, either. I’ve had a few offers, but none that tick all the boxes. I’m ready for the next step, but I’ll wait until the right role comes along.”

So, to the CV. For the Anglocentric, there are only two entries under management. Wycombe Wanderers: a year and four days, a relegation, a resignation. Portsmouth: 3½ months, a slide towards the Barclays Premier League’s trap door and, finally, a sacking. “To take those two jobs in isolation is to forget seven years of development in coaching,” Adams said. “Wycombe was the right job at the right time. But the club was losing £6,000 a week.

“I was able to stabilise things. I’m proud of that year. I helped save the club. But to carry on developing, I needed to work with better players. It was the right thing for me and the club to leave. I’m delighted they’ve got promoted [to Coca-Cola League One]. I’m really happy for the fans.” The affection for Wycombe is clear.

Adams must be bitter about his experience at Fratton Park, though. “I’d decided to leave before Harry Redknapp got the Tottenham job,” he said. “I’d worked for 2½ years without a contract as Harry’s assistant, but there was a suggestion that if another club wanted me as manager they would have to pay compensation. I didn’t want that. I told Peter Storrie [the chief executive] that it was time for me to be a No 1. Then Harry left and they said: ‘Be No 1 here.’ I knew the downside but felt a sense of loyalty and moral obligation to the players and fans. I also wanted experience as a No 1.

“But the goalposts were shifting even as I took on the job. A month after I’d taken over, Lassana Diarra was off to Real Madrid. Then I had to sell Jermain Defoe [to Tottenham Hotspur]. This was not a club building for the future.”

Adams believes that there is more to his potential than being judged merely on winning only 16 games in his two stints as a manager. “I’m a tracksuit manager,” he said. “I love being on the training ground, improving and organising the team. What people who look at my stints in charge don’t recognise is I’ve never had a pre-season with a team. I’ve never been able to build a side in my image.”

What is that image? The time Adams has spent observing how top-quality coaches operate, adding to an eclectic portfolio of ideas, means that it is unlikely to be dull. “It’s fascinating watching the best managers,” he said. “Some are motivators, some focus on technique. Fabio Capello, at Juventus, was like a general. All the work was done off the pitch. On match day he’d just stand there watching his assistants getting the players ready to carry out his plans. You look at what a great manager does and try to take some of that into your own methods.

“I always did that as a player. When Arsenal wanted to sign me, I was in the stands at Highbury and they got a corner. A woman stood up and started chanting, ‘Willie, Willie, Willie.’ I was wondering what that was all about. Willie Young was a stopper and what did that have to do with a corner? He went up and powered a header into the net. I thought, ‘I’ll add that to my game. I want the crowd excited about me going forward for a corner.’