As his newly liberated choir compose soaring hymns to Gaelic football's beautiful potential, so the temptation grows to anoint him Galway's Guardiola.
Pádraic Joyce, of course, might convulse with laughter at the absurdity of the comparison.
Four games on mid-winter bogs in his freshman year as manager can hardly be measured against the Catalan's glorious decade as light of the sporting world.
Yet, Joyce hasn't so much stepped back onto the big-time carousel as invaded the young season, set it spinning with dizzying potential and vertiginous possibility.
Galway have been a fearless, thrilling and handsome landmark on sodden February swamps. Top scorers in Division 1, they have brought trapeze-act daring to the shivering masses.
Without kicking a ball in anger, Joyce has delivered the most eloquent interventions in the Allianz League's opening stanzas.
An audacious renaissance artist, one who favours free expression above dour, join-the-dots football, he has been refreshingly unafraid to share his ambition to transform the landscape of an Irish summer.
Asked to announce his priority for the year, Joyce was unequivocal: To be playing football on August 30, All-Ireland final day.
His words have been backed up on the pitch by the kind of slick, impromptu jazz that stands out in the increasingly structured music of the modern game.
If Dublin remain the undisputed benchmark and Kerry command the chasing pack, Galway's bold early statements, notably the poetry that so bedazzled Tyrone on Sunday, suggest they can be the year's most eloquent disruptor.
Joyce has empowered Shane Walsh to showcase the full range of a once-in-a-generation creative talent.
The response from Walsh, one of the few players whose natural born ability does not shrivel when set next to the greatest works of Maurice Fitzgerald, has been spectacular, hinting at all that Galway might yet become.
Joyce has gusted a storm-surge of positivity through a richly talented band of underage and club champions, one that too often seemed handcuffed by the cautious worldview of his predecessor, Kevin Walsh.
It is not merely that Galway share the highest rung of the Division One ladder with Dublin, it is that they have arrived at that crest reflecting the sunlit philosophy of their coach.
Joyce's playing career, one that arrived at an All-Ireland wining, Footballer of the Year crowning point in 2001, was set apart by the rich and vivid palette of his imagination.
The creative talisman on a team which detonated on the national conscious with a first, thrilling annex of Sam three years earlier, he offered a thrilling vision of how the game, played a certain way, can deeply touch its audience.
Joyce quarterbacked an offensive line in which Michael Donnellan, Ja Fallon and Derek Savage played the kind cerebral, free-rolling and high-octane football that the three-in-a-row giants of the 1960s embedded in Galway's DNA.
Kevin Walsh did some heavy-lifted in carrying Galway from the doldrums: In 2018, he led them to the league final and an All-Ireland semi-final.
And yet while that was a giant step forward, his conservative dogma failed to the touch the soul of the county. By the end it was deemed to be holding them back.
Joyce is a former team-mate and friend of Walsh and has been continuously careful to stress the latter's important contribution to remaking Galway.
Yet he has not delayed in resurrecting old core values, unleashing the swift attacking battalions, baulking at the notion of playing the ball backward.
The 42-year-old's breathtaking ambition, evident in both his upbeat proclamations and bold pursuit of the opposition jugular, has electrified the county.
Tyrone were buried beneath an offensive maroon avalanche, Sunday's eye-watering winter tally of 2-25 bringing a warm glow of renewal to a frigid Tuam afternoon.
Opening great fissures in Mickey Harte's defensive wall, speeding forward in ransacking waves, Galway unveiled the sort of shock and awe firepower last seen in Dublin's third quarter All-Ireland semi-final blitz of Mayo.
Of course, that comparison comes with an obvious health warning: The Sky Blues exhibition came at crunch time in high summer, when the stakes are so much higher than anything the league can offer.
Still, with a new sheen of conviction on their coat, Galway finds itself invigorated and dreaming.
Joyce has delivered another timely reminder – one announced by the epic Dublin Kerry duel of six months ago – that football is less in need of constant rule-tampering than a philosophical cleansing.
He brings an adventurer's spirit, his approach an overdue vaccine against all the pseudo-science spouted by coaches too eager to make themselves the story.
Joyce's natural-born belief in a rectangle of grass as the ideal canvass for magnificent self-expression has set pulses racing.
Early days, but Galway are glistening as brightly as at any time since the turn of the Millennium.
An old treasure freshly polished by the kind of discriminating coaching mind Guardiola would surely recognise as a kindred spirit.