La Creuse is a rural part of provincial France, right in the middle of the country, known for its farmland. In 1986 Corinne Diacre, a football-mad girl who lived there and bucked the trends of the time with her exceptional passion for the game, took the 400km journey to Paris to take part in a national ball-juggling competition.

The contest demanded each contestant attempted 300 taps with the right foot, 300 with the left, 300 with alternate feet and 100 headers. Diacre was 11 years old. She completed 300 with her right, 105 with her left, 300 alternate and 100 headers. She won the competition. But being a girl with an unusual level of determination, she vowed to return the following year to win without making a mistake. Aged 12 she took the journey again and her performance was flawless.

Diacre is softly spoken but an inner conviction comes across loud and clear. That focus has characterised a career in football that has broken barriers. As a player she won more than a century of caps, many as captain of France, and as the team’s manager she is geared towards producing the most competitive side she can mould in time for the 2019 Women’s World Cup. Diacre is, though, best known for calmly climbing through a glass ceiling when she became head coach of Clermont Foot in Ligue 2. She has always tried to underplay the fuss that caused, even if she is not blind to why it was such a magnet for attention. “Anything new bothers people,” she shrugs. Her general philosophy is to keep quiet and show your competence first. Talking can come later. “I don’t need anyone else to put pressure on me. I put enough on myself.”

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Diacre elaborates on her experience from the headquarters of the French Football Federation (FFF) and the question of whether there is any difference in coaching men or women feels pertinent at the time when Phil Neville has been controversially parachuted in to manage England’s Lionesses. Neville could do worse than jump on the Eurostar to have a chat with Diacre, an example in managing both genders in senior football. Her way – to focus entirely on football and clear thinking, putting the rest to one side – serves her well.

“Football-wise, it is exactly the same,” she says. “In doing all my coaching studies and badges, I have never, ever, had any training module that says: ‘If it’s women this is how you coach, and if it’s men that is how you coach.’ We are talking about football. Obviously men and women have specific characteristics but the only real difference is physical, athletic.

“When I came to Clermont, there had never been a woman who had coached men and I had no managerial history behind me. I had just finished my badges. What really bothers people is the fact they have never seen it before. It is new. Some people have nasty intentions and try to convince others that it is impossible to have women coaching men. It got easier over time as people got used to it. Within the team it was completely normal.”

In between two mid-table finishes, in her second season Clermont improved to seventh and were among the most prolific teams in the division. That does not suggest any major issues inside the camp. Nobody appointed as some kind of token or publicity stunt would realistically last three seasons, as she did before she decided to take a new job.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Corinne Diacre is is in some ways a reluctant trailblazer: ‘When I am retired, sitting in front of the fire in my old age, maybe then I will think about what I did.’ Photograph: Ed Alcock/Guardian

The FFF headquarters is the venue for a revolution when it comes to perceptions about who is best placed to run football – 40% of the workforce is female, with no role seemingly out of reach. Diacre wanders into the office of her old international team-mate, and now work colleague, Brigitte Henriques. They laugh as they reflect upon how the football experience they grew up in compares with that of a current international. “It was like the middle ages,” chuckles Henriques, who is the vice-president of the FFF, essentially the organisation’s No 2.

Down the corridor the piercingly smart Florence Hardouin stops working to offer a coffee and a chat. She is the CEO and has also become the first woman on Uefa’s executive committee. A former international fencer, she leads the FFF strategically with precise vision.

Diacre, Henriques and Hardouin are at the forefront of a movement instigated by the FFF’s president, Noël Le Graët, to promote people of value. From the top, he is an absolute believer in quality and equality. “They succeed because they deserve it,” he explains. “To give women with talent and competence responsibility is logical. Parity to me seems natural. This observation includes salary. In France, in a position of equal responsibility, a woman can earn less than 20%. At the FFF, in a position of equal responsibility, a woman receives the same salary as a man. We are leading the way with our federation because we are stronger when we bring together all our energy. Football is not reserved for men.”

Hardouin believes the FFF is a great example as a meritocracy. She was elected to Uefa’s executive committee because they decided to open up one position reserved for women only. “I don’t like this idea it is an obligation but to kickstart something it was the only way,” she says. “The next election I would like to present myself not for the women’s position but another one. Just for fun!” Only a fool would doubt her ability to double the quota by freeing up the reserved-for-women slot and winning a different post.

Diacre’s part in this progressive environment is interesting. She is an obvious role model as France prepares to host the World Cup in 2019, yet the public face of her job is the aspect she seems to like least. It is a strange kind of paradox – on the one hand she wants to push opportunities and raise levels as much as possible. On the other she guards her privacy.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Brigitte Henriques is vice-president of the French Football Federation. Its president, Noël Le Graët, is a great believer in quality and equality. Photograph: Ed Alcock/Guardian

All her life she has quietly got on with the business of proving and improving herself. “My father was the first one to be against it,” she recalls. “But after a while, when he saw the way I kicked the ball he said to himself: ‘She has got something.’ He began to help me and encourage me. My early career was in partnership with him.

“All the diplomas I have passed at the federation were with no problems. Once or twice someone might be a bit jealous but it was nothing dramatic. Once you put on kit and football boots and you can show them what you know, that was enough to stop any prejudice.”

She is in some ways a reluctant trailblazer. “I am proud in a way. But it’s difficult to think about these things and explain them. In the future when I am retired, sitting in front of the fire in my old age, maybe then I will think about what I did. With all those questions about being the first woman, look, somebody had to go first. Today I am thinking of now, tomorrow and maybe the next day. My job is to try to improve our game, to fashion a team that can achieve something.”

Would Diacre the manager of today pick Diacre the player she was? “As a player yes. But as a character, we would have clashed.” That determination isn’t going anywhere in a hurry.