ST MIRREN’S Stephen Robinson was of the opinion that the pressure on cinch Premiership managers is intolerable even before he made a rod for his own back by becoming the first top-tier boss in a year to defeat champions Celtic last weekend.

Success, like failure, attracts publicity which is not always welcome and, particularly in a campaign that has already been compacted by the Qatar World Cup, there are few opportunities for Robinson and his peers to relax and de-stress.

Fortunately, the Irishman has found an antidote to the ceaseless white noise surrounding the game, in his case a dog named Alfie. Robinson believes his pet prevents him from succumbing to the relentless tension surrounding the sport, with tackling Munros their hobby of choice.

“He has boundless energy – it’s absolutely mental,” said the 47-year-old. “He’s a working cocker spaniel and they never grow up – the also never seem to tire, no matter how often you take them up.

“Alfie’s a great dog. He has a 5km walk or run at six o’clock every morning and another one in the afternoon because we’re lucky enough to live next to open fields and walkways with big braes.

“Sunday’s his main day, though, and we take him all over Scotland. My partner, Robyn, is massively into hill-walking so Alfie and I often don’t get much choice. Whether the weather’s good or bad we climb up the hills and Munros.

“I don’t even know the names of half of them but we’ve done lots, including Ben Lomond and The Cobbler. We just drive around until we find somewhere promising where we can park the car. We often go to the Cuillin and spend five or six hours going up and down those hills.

“The dog usually sprints up them 10 times, which is three times more than us. We’re not Munro baggers, it’s just a question of finding somewhere suitable for Robyn and Alfie.

“What I want to do, ideally, is buy a camper van so that we can leave straight after our game on a Saturday so I can get peace and quiet for 24 hours at least: my staff know not to contact me until Monday morning, especially if we’ve lost.

“I’ve found that very helpful, especially mentally. I listened to a podcast from Paul Warne, the new Derby County manager, where he said that when you win there’s a sense of relief rather than joy and that when you lose you blame yourself and it’s a state of depression for the next 48 hours. I couldn’t have described it any better myself.

“You have to break that cycle so we get away from all that on Sundays and don’t even speak about football.

“We just enjoy each other’s company, let the dog run wild and then take a packed lunch or go for a nice meal away from the madness of the professional game, which is great.”

Of course, even when racing Alfie up the glens, Robinson still finds his mind drifting back to work.

“Even when I’m walking up those hills I’m probably thinking about football most of the time I’m not speaking because it does dominate your life, [although] I try not to let that happen,” he said.

“It’s the only job where people place bets on whether or not you’re going to be sacked in the next week and you have pundits calling for your head, who actually want you to be out of work so it’s difficult to switch off completely.

“I’ve got a mortgage like everyone else and the majority of managers in Scotland don’t earn the megabucks which would set you up for the rest of your life but you need to find a way not to think about it otherwise you’d go absolutely crazy.

“Here, being the main league, you’re playing against huge institutions like Rangers and Celtic. If you beat them or cause any kind of shock you’re recognised anywhere; it’s intense, it’s a goldfish bowl and it’s hard to get out of it.

“If we lost we wouldn’t go out for dinner on a Saturday night. We changed the routine and now go out on a Thursday because you avoid maybe having that disappointment.

“It’s about finding a balance, finding a way to actually start living your life and it’s taken me a long time to get to that point.”