Sol Campbell

by Simon Astaire

  The venue was a small hotel off Chelsea Green. Sol felt relaxed. This was so different to when he signed for Arsenal. Then it was clandestine, collar pulled up to the ears and looking like a spy, a series of false decoys just in case anyone was watching. They were, but no-one found out.

  Sol was there waiting. He’d already had his first espresso when Harry strolled in first, followed by Peter Storrie, Portsmouth’s chief executive, a couple of steps behind. He immediately liked Harry. He had already met him, briefly, at son Jamie’s twenty-first birthday, but that was simply a ‘hello’ and ‘good to meet you’ greeting. Harry was well-liked in the football community. He had the reputation of extending older players’ careers and improving youngsters’ discipline. He was the classic man-manager. He spoke so freely, and indeed easily, that you would consider joining him just to be in his company. The type who’d make you laugh at his jokes, although you may have heard them before. He was exactly what Sol needed personality-wise at this point in his life. Someone who he felt would manage him in a fatherly way.

  The two had good patter. They did not interrupt each other, nor even once talk at the same time. They spoke with the pace of great salesmen, as if their lines had been rehearsed. Harry spoke of his plans and ambitions for the club. He told Sol that Portsmouth was ‘a club going places, a good club to come to.’ Storrie spoke about money. The deal was being negotiated across that table. It was an all-in-one package. Make the deal and sell the club, all within half an hour. Sol was about to say something like: ‘You’re exactly what I’m looking for.’ But of course he didn’t; that wasn’t his style; never was, never going to be. A voice said, just listen to them and say you’ll call them with an answer in a few days. Which is exactly what he did.

  They did not know but there was no need to oversell; they were the only Premier League side interested in him. But they spoke with ambition and excitement. About the new owner, Alexandre Gaydamak, that he was young, had money and was keen to spend it. They spoke of potential signings just as Wenger and Dein had done before he signed for Arsenal. David James, Kanu and Niko Kranjcar were names mentioned. As the bill arrived for lunch, Sol looked at his watch. He wasn’t seeing what time it was; he was thinking, how long is it to the beginning of the new season?

  After the meeting with Harry, Sol flew to Verbier to get together with his girlfriend, Fiona Barratt, an English interior designer who he had met earlier in the year. They say you meet someone romantically when the heart needs it most. The statement is true for Sol. He had been involved with Kelly Hoppen, also an interior designer, who had introduced Sol to her social world. To outsiders, they were a novelty; the black football star with the ambitious socialite. It was like they intruded onto the stage as complete strangers and acted out their relationship in front of an audience. The whispers began again around Sol’s life; this time, on what he saw in her and the other way round.

  ‘It was rare that I met someone who was successful in their own right,’ Sol says. ‘I was attracted to someone different who was independent, responsible, knew where they were going and were driven in a nice way.’ They’d met at former Tottenham team-mate John Scales’ wedding. They were sitting at the same table. They were attracted to each other and spent the evening talking. ‘I think we were both intrigued by each other’s worlds. In the beginning it was good, we travelled together and when I introduced her to the England setup, she was fine, she was well-connected. Becks was there and I think they were quite good friends. Some of the guys had heard of her. Gary Neville actually got her to do up his house in Manchester. Yes, we spent a good deal of time together.’

  But then the relationship turned into the type that was forever ending. This is definitely it, and then the next day it started all over again, like a novel forever nearly ready but the deadline is constantly changing and moving further ahead. It also seemed to be discussed more openly by others and that did not rest easy. ‘Even before I was told I was picked for the 2006 World Cup, Kelly told me she’d allegedly heard from Nancy Dell’Olio that I was going to be in the squad. It all became very strange. It may have just been gossip, but I felt very uncomfortable with it even being discussed.’

  Kelly visited Sol’s family house in Stratford to see if she could help on the interior decoration. She went alone. ‘Nothing happened in the end. Probably the meeting didn’t go too well because I heard nothing more from either side! I also knew that by not going, it was a sign that it [the relationship] didn’t really have a future. If it had, I would’ve gone with her.’

  It was only a matter of time to see who got out first. When Sol got a bill listing all the money Kelly was owed (she was helping with the interior decorating of his house), under the miscellaneous column, ‘flowers’ were listed. When he checked what flowers she was talking about, he discovered they were the flowers she’d bought Sol for his birthday. The entry was immediately removed and the revised bill was paid in full. ‘It was probably just a mistake,’ Sol says. But afterwards they did not talk again.

  • • •

  Fiona Barratt’s presence had given Sol his balance back. They had originally met in the Caribbean on the beach and then again, of all places, through Kelly Hoppen’s office, where Fiona was working as head designer; she had worked on Sol’s house. He liked her being around, enjoyed her company; he noticed that. He also noticed when he went to Kelly’s office he hoped to see Fiona. His day naturally brightened. But nothing happened when she was still working for Kelly. No clandestine dates, no hidden kiss; simply a mutual attraction masked by hesitancy on both sides.

  Six months later (‘there was certainly no overlap,’ insists Sol), they met again at a party. Fiona told him she was planning to leave her job and start a new business. They spoke to each other all evening. She is lovely, thought Sol. The chance meeting unsettled him. He called Fiona the following day; he still had her number from when she had worked on his house. He asked her out but at first she refused. ‘She was wary of many things,’ Sol says, ‘past relationships, going out with a footballer, everything I brought to the table. It was frustrating because it seemed that she was using my public stature as an excuse not to get involved.’

  They eventually met for dinner in Hampstead (a Greek restaurant) and they started to date seriously until one afternoon, Sol suddenly disappeared. Not literally, because he was in the papers every day, but if he hadn’t been, Fiona would not have known where he had gone. He simply didn’t call, nor did he return calls. It was without explanation. ‘I simply had to run away. It was getting serious and I didn’t have the understanding to deal with someone who loved me in such a way. So I broke it up and then the mind starts to play games, like, did she really love me? What did she see in me?’

  It was the week of his birthday, the anniversary of his father’s death. It was a time since his death that had disrupted his life. ‘The mind just started to explode leading up to the date of his death and beyond,’ he says. It triggered a deluge of emotions, entailing a desire to escape those themes that unsettle, or dominate. He needed to be alone. But his solitude was well hidden from others at his club. He may have been sitting at the same table as his team-mates, but the conversation was distant and his mind was elsewhere. If he hadn’t had the anchor and responsibility of football, he would have gone abroad into deep hiding.

  The silence continued for three months; harder for Fiona, dealing with someone in the public eye. The constant reminder when you least expect it: the mention of his name on the radio, the open pages of a newspaper in a coffee shop. Her heart was breaking and it got to the point where she would call him one final time and, if he was not prepared to take her call and discuss his fears and troubles, she would continue her life without him.

  Sol was in Dubai. It was a training and team-bonding trip. He was preparing to go out for dinner when the phone rang. He would miss going out with some of his team-mates; instead he would stay in his room. It was a phone call he would refer to later in his speech at his wedding to Fiona. It changed
the course of his life. ‘It just connected with me on a different level for some reason. It made me stop and think there was more to it. Does this girl really want to know me properly? Does she really love me, for me? If everything got stripped away, would she look at me in a different way?’

  They met on his return and they knew they should be together. They loved each other and understood that fear should no longer be a part of it. ‘I was always looking for that type of love. I didn’t really understand it when I was growing up. It was tough love in the household. And then, growing up in football when I saw how things were extracted from players through bad relationships or bad marriages, it made me even more reluctant to trust and open my heart. None of my family has been married except for my parents and my sister in Jamaica, so in a way it was more normal not to be in a committed relationship.’

  But it was different now. Sol had a friend and partner who would support him. Decisions would be easier. He could focus on his football while the other side of his life could have a peace that had never existed. He spoke to Fiona about the Portsmouth offer and before the week was out, he was back on the phone to Peter Storrie to finalise the deal. Yes, he was his own manager now and only had his lawyer check through the final wording. ‘It wasn’t straightforward. Storrie returned the contract five times, changing this and that before it was finally agreed.’

  His working relationship with Sky Andrew had gradually petered out. They wanted different things. ‘It was inevitable that we’d eventually take different roads,’ says Sky. ‘Our outlook on how to move things forward had changed. I knew he had to see things for himself. I was a hundred per cent sure he would come back as I’d always done right by him. If you do that, they always come back.’ But Sol wanted to do things more his own way; to make his own decisions and not depend on Sky’s advice. ‘I felt comfortable enough to deal with my own affairs. I didn’t need anyone. I was experienced and wasn’t scared to negotiate. I like the business. I think I could’ve been a trader in a different life!’ laughs Sol.

  ‘It was almost like a younger brother going against his older brother’s advice,’ says Sky. ‘If I advised on something, he would disagree. We had reached that stage of our friendship, our working relationship, and there is little you can do except wait until it passes.’ Today they remain good friends and are involved together in Kids Go Live, an initiative that encourages inner-city primary school children to watch live sport. ‘We will always be brothers,’ says Sky.

  • • •

  On 8 August 2006, Sol completed his move to Portsmouth, signing a three-year contract. He was going to be well paid. He knew how much he was worth and expected his demands to be met. There was always a bottom line. He lived like many footballers of similar worth, in that, although he was highly paid, it wasn’t going to last forever and before you knew it the career was over. Your pay packet would never be the same again. He had seen it with other well-paid footballers, who are now left with little. ‘We don’t talk about money in the dressing room or generally outside. It’s a sort of no-go subject,’ says Sol. ‘With the older players in the Arsenal dressing room, I saw little change in their attitude, even though they were being very well paid. It’s the youngsters who I sometimes see are affected. All of sudden, they can buy the best of things at a very young age. It’s not good. Some prefer to be driving out of training in their new car, rather than putting in the extra hour to improve their skill.’

  Everyone is different but it is fair to say that some find an excess of success, money, fame, etc, as difficult to handle as, if not more difficult to handle than, failure, poverty, or being a non-entity. But perhaps the theory is merely put about by the successful, rich, famous etc in order to keep the majority of the country in their place.

  The way to handle money was instilled in Sol at a young age. Not by anything or anyone. It just seemed natural. One sight he couldn’t stand was money falling into the hands of those who did not know how to use it. ‘God sends chocolate to people who have no teeth,’ is a proverb you can see played out at many a football game, where it is the people in the most expensive seats who seem to care least for the entertainment, strolling into the corporate boxes ten minutes late and wondering why the rest of us have had the audacity to start without them.

  • • •

  Harry Redknapp said about Sol: ‘I think he’ll give the place a real lift just coming in. He’s a top, top player, a big character and I think he’s a great signing for us. He’s very strong. I think he’s fine and looking forward to the challenge.’

  Arsene Wenger said that he was surprised by his move to Portsmouth. He believed he’d left Arsenal to go abroad. He had, but the deal simply didn’t go through. But there would be no explanation to Arsenal. These things happen and they would have to understand.

  Tony Adams was restless. He was standing, pacing, sitting, squatting, and most other things. Sol was due to arrive that morning, and his former Arsenal skipper, now assistant manager to Harry Redknapp (‘When we first met I’m sure Harry wanted me out of retirement to start playing again,’ recalls Adams), knew how important the signing was going to be. ‘Sometimes one signing can make all the difference,’ says Adams. ‘In Sol’s case, he could organise the defence on the field and the players would look up to him. Wealth of experience is so valuable; once it’s on the pitch, it can change virtually everything.’

  Adams also knew that by having Sol at Portsmouth, his mere presence would encourage other players to join, with the ‘If it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me’ type of attitude. Yes, Adams knew this was a big signing.

  Harry was now far calmer. The deal had been done. He knew there had been a bit of to-ing and fro-ing but now everything was agreed.

  But Sol was late. Half an hour late. ‘He isn’t coming, Harry,’ Adams said, looking at his watch.

  ‘I’m telling you, he’s on his way,’ Harry replied.

  Harry calls Peter Storrie just to make sure. ‘Peter? Yeah…yeah…right.’

  He turns to Adams. ‘It’s done. Stop worrying, he’ll be here!’

  Sol meanwhile was taking his time in his Range Rover, unaware of the slight panic going on. He was looking forward to a new start. He felt as good as he had for a long time. Portsmouth might not have been his first choice, might not even have been his second, but he liked Harry and thought they had the makings of a good team. He switched radio stations and listened to classical music and opened his window to let in the fresh air. By heading towards the coast, it gave him a sense of peace. He had a giggle about how life turns. He would never have believed he would be taking this drive only a few weeks before. I will make an impact here. Maybe greater things lay ahead. How lucky he was to be a professional footballer, a paid sportsman.

  As he turned down the short driveway, the potholes brought him back to his senses. In front of him stood a portakabin. Sol let out a deep sigh. ‘It was a throwback in time,’ he says. Adams and Redknapp were outside waiting. ‘I told you he’d be here,’ whispers Redknapp, followed by wide smiles and firm handshakes. As he was being taken on a tour, more like a tour of inspection, Sol felt a hollow pit in the stomach. He felt the cell door slamming. The inside of the stadium, Fratton Park, looked like a relic from better days on the south coast. The bathrooms had the smell of cigarettes. This is a shock. I may have made a big mistake.

  ‘People were saying, why is Sol moaning and groaning but I wasn’t used to this; we were in the twenty-first century and I thought, what is happening here? This team was in the Premier League but the facilities gave the impression it was a non-League side.’ What he didn’t understand was if the club was ready to pay millions for players, why the hell weren’t they ready to put in a new set of showers? Water from the showers and washbasins trickled down the porcelain. ‘Why wasn’t buying a new training ground top of their agenda? Something not just for now but for tomorrow; something that would appeal to any potential buyer. Why didn’t they invest and create a comfortable and stable envir
onment to learn and improve the skill of the players? Believe me, I know it helps to have that in a club’s makeup. And remember we were talking about a Premier League side at the time. Around that time, they had an opportunity to buy a ground right opposite Southampton airport. But they did nothing.’

  By the end of the tour, he had, though, already noticed the warmth around the place. It had a sense of community, which was fed from the top. He felt a sense of relief, like if your train is going in the right direction, when you’re convinced yourself you’ve got on the wrong one. ‘There was a good atmosphere and Harry kept up the banter. He was good at that.’

  • • •

  ‘Portsmouth was like a church club. A number of the players believed in God and were vocal to the fact,’ Sol says, ‘That’s maybe why we were winning!’

  Linvoy Primus became a Christian in 2001. A pendulum in his consciousness had swung and finally rested in faith and the power of prayer. Linvoy prayed on match day. He was now in control of his life. He would habitually call the assistant club chaplain Mick Mellows an hour and half before the game. His team-mates were suspicious as he sneaked off the pitch to make calls. Some thought Linvoy was talking to his bookie. ‘All I was doing was talking to God.’

  Portsmouth at the time had eight players who were Christians. Soon a group had arranged to meet once a week for bible study. It was a quiet and private time at one of the player’s or at Mick Mellows’ home. There they would pray and talk openly about their lives.

  Six months before Sol arrived at Portsmouth, Linvoy went to Harry Redknapp to ask whether the group could pray before a game. Harry saw no problem as long as it didn’t interfere with his team talk. They would meet in the laundry room, a small space that struggled to hold eight men. There was little difficulty finding a congregation. ‘One time we had twenty-two crowded in there!’ Linvoy says proudly. ‘It was not just for players. We had a couple of stewards, the club doctor, members of staff. We also at times had members of the opposing team: players from Bristol City, Leicester City, Charlton, to name a few. Everyone was welcome.’