Tottenham Hotspur's warm-weather camp in Marbella last week prompted former manager Tony Pulis to reflect on his own team-building methods — methods that looked rather different from the sun-soaked retreats of the modern game.

A different era of togetherness

Pulis believes the principle behind taking players away from their everyday environment remains sound. As manager of Stoke, he regularly brought squads to Austria in pre-season, using the trip to assess fitness, observe personalities, and forge the kind of collective spirit he felt was essential to surviving tough early Premier League campaigns.

"I have always believed in building a family togetherness within the dressing room," he wrote, noting that watching players bond over training sessions and meal times gave him insight into each individual — strengths, weaknesses, and character — both on and off the pitch.

He is broadly supportive of what Tottenham manager Roberto de Zerbi is doing. With so many new arrivals at the club this summer, several of them late in the transfer window, Pulis argues that time together in a relaxed but demanding environment is exactly what De Zerbi needs to understand his squad and drill in his tactical principles.

Beer, sand, and shared beds in Blackpool

The contrast with his own playing days, however, could hardly be sharper. As a young player in the 1970s, Pulis's pre-season preparation amounted to three days in Blackpool — staying in a guest house, sharing three-quarter beds, running on the beach each morning, and playing seven-a-side on a local park pitch that first needed clearing of dog mess.

Evenings were free, with players allowed out for a few beers and no curfew — provided they were downstairs and ready for the beach by 8am. That, Pulis notes, was what British players called a bonding session. A massive drinking culture ran through the game in the 1970s and 1980s, from the lower leagues all the way up to the clubs — Liverpool, Manchester United, and Arsenal among them — who dominated English and European football.

Army camps and underwater tunnels

As a young manager, Pulis pushed the boundaries of team bonding further still, taking squads to army camps where the physical and mental demands were extreme. One trip brought Stoke to Exmouth, where players completed cross-country circuits in freezing, rain-lashed conditions that included climbing exercises and swimming through a darkened underwater tunnel — challenges Pulis completed alongside his squad.

Afternoons at the camp were devoted to indoor team-building tasks: groups had around 20 minutes to cross an area using only drums and planks, without touching the ground. At night, players slept in bunk beds with plastic sheeting over the mattress and a single thin blanket. Spartan, Pulis concedes — but everyone embraced it.

Alpine luxury — and Real Madrid

As his career progressed and budgets grew, Pulis discovered Irdning, a small Alpine town in Austria that became his preferred pre-season destination for many clubs over the years. The centrepiece is a 1,000-year-old building he refers to as "The Castle," complete with swimming pools, a large gym, saunas, steam rooms, a spa, and a golf course.

The venue attracted illustrious company: Real Madrid used the same hotel so regularly that, in 2007, they agreed to play Stoke in a friendly simply because both clubs had booked the same property simultaneously.

Phones, pubs, and what players have lost

Pulis reserves particular frustration for mobile phones, which he regards as the greatest modern obstacle to genuine player connection. He recalls going "mad" walking into a dining room to find players staring at screens rather than talking to each other — a scene he believes undermines the very togetherness that pre-season trips are meant to create.

The drinking culture of earlier decades has rightly faded, he acknowledges, but managers must now work harder to find alternative ways of connecting players in an era of constant digital distraction. Despite having far less materially as a young player, Pulis reflects that his generation had something invaluable — stories, friendships, and a dressing-room closeness that he spent his entire managerial career trying to recreate.