From the dark ages - or ahead of his time?

TO some, he is the dart-loving former defender who dragged Bolton Wanderers back into the dark ages with his long-ball tactics and overly-physical approach.

To others, he is the art-appreciating technophile who turned the same Bolton Wanderers into one of the most progressive football clubs in the country thanks to his scientific study of statistics and love of laptop computers.

And to anyone with an interest in the game, Sam Allardyce represents a fascinating blend of football past, present and future.

Love him or loathe him - and plenty do both - Newcastle's new manager is certainly a character that defies convention.

Born in Dudley in October 1954, Allardyce grew up watching his hero, Ron Flowers, from the North Bank at Molineux.

An unremarkable 20-year playing career began when Nat Lofthouse signed him for Bolton in 1969, and went on to encompass spells at Millwall, Coventry, Huddersfield, Preston (twice), West Brom and, most controversially of all given his present position, Sunderland.

As a player, Allardyce, an uncompromising centre-half, was very much a product of his time. "He was what I called a ball-playing defender," Dave Bassett once explained. "If he wasn't playing with the ball, he was playing with your balls."

Yet even while he was conforming to the stereotype of the seventies, Allardyce was still showing signs of the enlightened thinking that would eventually come to mark out his managerial career.

While his team-mates enjoyed their half-time cup of tea - a practice that was outlawed once football coaches discovered its diuretic disadvantages - the Midlander, already well versed in re-hydration routines, would sneak back into the dressing room to gulp down a glass of ice water.

In a practice that was way ahead of its time, he would adhere to a strictly controlled diet to ensure his body received the nutrients it needed to perform at its peak capability.

And with his playing days drawing to an end in the early 1980s, Allardyce eschewed the traditional retirement route of running a country pub to broaden his horizons in the United States.

It was a move that was to transform his career. Playing for the Tampa Bay Rowdies in the nascent North American Soccer League, he discovered a sporting world that was anathema to the unenlightened footballing fraternity he had left behind in England.

In America, sport and technology had already become intertwined. Training was scientifically structured, players were routinely offered counselling and psychological help to improve their performance on the pitch, and tactics were the bedrock of the team's efforts rather than a flexible framework that could be dismantled to accommodate an errant star.

Allardyce was enraptured and, when he returned to his homeland after a season in the States, he was convinced that he could make it in football management.

A brief spell as Brian Talbot's assistant at West Bromwich Albion whetted his appetite even further, but to convince himself that cutting-edge methods could be applied to British game, he needed to go it alone.

The chance to do exactly that came in 1991, with Allardyce taking on his first managerial role at Irish side Limerick.

Controlling a bunch of part-time professionals proved a challenging task - Allardyce was regularly spotted trawling Limerick's nightclubs to haul out his players on the eve of a game - but even at such an under-developed footballing strata, his progressive techniques reaped rewards.

"It was a job that opened his eyes," explained Billy Kinnane, Allardyce's assistant as Limerick claimed the League of Ireland title by a significant margin. "He became more innovative when he joined because he could see that the little changes worked.

"Even in those days, he was into sports psychology. Yes, he would go to the Brazen Head nightclub in Limerick to drag the players out. But he would also talk to them about their private lives and work out what made them tick as a person."

With an Irish title under his belt, Allardyce returned to England as assistant at Preston and became the Lancashire club's caretaker manager when Les Chapman was dismissed.

A brief spell as manager of Blackpool honed his skills even further, but the Midlander's biggest break came when he took over at Notts County in January 1997.

In his first full season at Meadow Lane, Allardyce won the Division Three title by a record margin, an achievement that earned him a lucrative move to Bolton in September 1999.

In his eight years at the Reebok Stadium, he transformed the Lancashire club from a mid-ranking Football League outfit into an established Premiership force capable of challenging for a place in the Champions League.

Just as significantly, he also turned an unfashionable footballing outpost into a cutting-edge club at the vanguard of football's technological revolution.

"I've never known a football manager be more open to new ideas," said business guru Humphrey Walters, an Allardyce confidante and the man credited with being the biggest influence on Sir Clive Woodward's managerial style ahead of the Rugby World Cup.

"Everyone thinks that Clive Woodward pioneered the use of ProZone technology - but he only latched onto it because Sam was using it at Bolton."

ProZone - a computer system that provides detailed analysis of individual players' strengths and weaknesses -- was the best known of Allardyce's innovations at the Reebok Stadium. But it was by no means the only one.

A journey to Bolton's training headquarters was like a trip to a Cold War military institution combined with an afternoon at a new-age health spa.

On one side of the corridor, IT consultants waded through laptop print-outs of every statistic under the sun, technicians fine-tuned the bluetooth headpieces that Allardyce would wear during games and photographers downloaded pictures of set-pieces taken from various aerial angles.

On the other, doctors of Oriental medicine shared office space with psychological profilers, dieticians swapped notes with nutritionists and experts in tai chi, and international business recruitment firms were invited to deliver seminars on motivation.

"The more success you gain, the more you realise that what you're doing is right," said Allardyce yesterday. "And the more you realise that you have to rely on other people's expertise and qualifications. As a manager, your job is to pull all of that together and make sure that all the constituent parts are working in harmony."

For all that he achieved remarkable success on the field, however, his time at Bolton wasn't always characterised by harmony.

There were arguments with referees, running battles with rival Premiership managers and even a drawn-out dispute with Newcastle over his present employers' decision to promote Glenn Roeder without the requisite managerial qualifications.

There was a public falling out with Alan Green when the BBC commentator criticised Bolton's playing style and, most controversially of all, there were the unsubstantiated allegations of corrupt transfer dealings made in a Panorama investigation last autumn.

Allardyce has repeatedly claimed that the unproven suggestions that he "took bungs" were entirely without foundation, but his son, Craig, a former agent who was also implicated in the programme, has sought a new career in property development in Spain.

With Lord Stevens' Quest team due to deliver their report into Premiership transfer dealings later this month, Newcastle officials are confident that their manager's name will be cleared.

Allardyce, who continues to refuse to speak to the BBC, is hoping to put the past behind him as he begins the latest chapter of his life at Newcastle.

Instead, the 52-year-old is looking to the future and promising to introduce the appliance of science to a club that has failed to keep up with changes in the footballing landscape.

"You have to do it bit by bit, day by day and week by week," said Allardyce.

"Hopefully, if you do that, you will develop a culture that enables everyone to perform to the best of their ability."

That culture, developed by Allardyce over the last 20 years, is about to be introduced to Newcastle United, a club that has previously proven stubbornly resistant to change. One of football's greatest innovators is about to begin his biggest challenge yet.