THE move was more than a shift in attitude, a change in mindset.

Alan Archibald remembers the transition to coach as something physical.

It was February 2012 and he had just been appointed as coach to Partick Thistle's under-17 team by Jackie McNamara while still playing in the first team.

"Jackie immediately told me to move out of the dressing room and into an office opposite his. He wanted me in the coaches' room. I felt then that I had moved on.

"I could also see that a manager's job was not just on the training ground. Every day you saw players heading to Jackie's room, chapping the door, and going in to say whatever. It was the first sign for me that as a manager everyone wants a piece of you."

Archibald, 36, will be two years in charge of Thistle in January. He has no reason to change his mind over his early assessment of a manager's lot. The cliche of 24/7 applies accurately to a life where sleep is short and often interrupted, where demands are unceasing and where players need more than just technical or tactical adjustments.

Archibald covers neatly the divide between Old Football and New Football. He played for Partick Thistle and Dundee United from 1996 to 2013. "I come from an era when John Lambie would bawl you out for passing him on the stairs because he was superstitious," says Archibald. Now as the incumbent of the managerial chair at Thistle he has to deal with a level of familiarity even from youngsters that would have been unthinkable in that era.

Archibald is now in the vanguard of the modern coach, a position he shares with Gregor Townsend, his 41-year-old counterpart at Glasgow Warriors who is creating a stir in the rugby world. Both sides are sponsored by McCrea Financial Services and both adhere to that firm's ethos of investing in people.

This could be business speak but Archibald talks of the practical responsibilities of dealing with a host of personalities in the demanding world of professional sport. "Footballers are insecure. You have to see past their bravado," he says of a world where a 10-month contract is now almost the norm.

"You have to learn to be a social worker. You have to learn to deal with different situations every day. Sometimes there can be a player sitting across from you in tears. There is a perception that football and footballers can be immune from problems. They are not.

"Communication is massive. You have to learn how to talk to people. You have to have that open-door policy when they feel they can come to talk with you."

This has been one of the biggest lessons offered to Archibald in his short tenure. "It has been frantic," he says of an era that started when McNamara left for Dundee United with Thistle trailing Morton by nine points in the Championship.

"It was sink or swim," he says. "In a way, it made the job easy. Basically, we had to win every game and get promoted. Now all we have to do is stay in the Premier League."

There is a sardonic note when detailing these demands. The path towards success can be both crooked and steep. Archibald was once immersed in family life with little thought of being a coach. "That all changed around the age of 29," says the father of 10-year-old twins and a 13-year-old daughter. He thus moved from the dressing room to that office opposite the manager's lair.

His ascent to that position of power has been dizzying. "The phone," he says of the biggest change to his life. "It goes from first thing in the morning to 11 at night."

But there have been experiences that have tested him. "The worst thing is letting people go, particularly the young players. There have also been the sleepless nights and the pain of defeat. The first thing I do after a defeat is blame myself. I can be sitting in the house with my wife and she is talking and I am in another world. That's not right but it can be all-consuming.

"It can get lonely too. The phone doesn't ring as much when you get beat 5-0. But I have become a better person, a better manager."

He reads, he tries to maintain his family life, he visits the gym and he surrounds himself with friends, particularly his assistant Scott Robinson. He maintains regular contact with such as Ian McCall and Gordon Chisholm, who were both managers at Dundee United. "I'll have a beer too with Derek McInnes during an international week," he says. This support network is complemented by a structured approach to coaching.

"Obviously we have DVDs, video analysis, and the tagged moments on setpieces etc. But I would like to do more on that. Players buy into that. They want detailed feedback on how they are performing and we can show them a package of every touch, every move they had in a game."

Opponents will be scouted in the two matches leading up to the meeting with Thistle. "I will always watch our opponents on film in their previous match. Normally, Monday would be a recovery day for players then training later in the week will be set up to meet the specifics of who the opponents are. Everything is structured towards the game."

Archibald now reads sports psychology and management books. "I have a business-driven board and they are keen on the psychology side of football. We have taken the boys away on breaks with motivational speakers. Some players regard the psychologists as witch doctors, others will take something from it. And that is okay. It is just about gaining an edge."

Archibald, too, has been an enterprising coach in that his teams seek to pass and move forward. He could have been forgiven for building a Thistle side that lived in a shell. But he says: "I want players to have a hunger. I want players to go out and play. I want to tell my players to express themselves, to win games rather than not lose them."

There is the pain. I mention insensitively a last-minute defeat at Motherwell. "That kills you," he says simply, but adds: "The best thing is that winning a game as manager is so much more enjoyable than it was as a player."

And the consolations of management? "I love it, absolutely." He smiles. "You need to love it."