Stillness and Speed: My Story

by Bergkamp, Dennis

  Closed culturally, or as an individual?

  ‘I don’t know. But he had everything to be a top, top player like Zidane. But he needed to be stronger, more open-minded.’

  Yet in London Dennis is seen as this sort of great philosopher king who opens the English culture. He unlocks and opens the door to something much bigger. He changes English football! He gives it another vision.

  ‘Yes, OK. In England. But not here. And in the Holland national team, how was he?’

  Great.

  ‘No. Normal. A normal player.’

  All through the 1990s Holland are great and strong. Then Dennis retires in 2000, and Holland go straight down.

  ‘OK, but for me I don’t remember him being decisive. When I think of Holland and I think of the decisive players, I think of Koeman, Seedorf . . . Cruyff years ago. Bergkamp? No. Not like Zidane. He should have been decisive because he had the same talent as Zidane. Dennis was not as decisive for Holland as he was for Arsenal.’

  Well, Holland should have won the World Cup in 1998 and Euro 2000. They were the best team in both.

  ‘They needed different players, with different talents. Dennis had to be a bigger star, like Zidane was for France. Zidane was the dominant player at Juventus, Real Madrid, France. Wherever he played he dominated. Always. Always the leader, the obvious leader. But Dennis . . . the difference is that Zidane led more and was more . . . manifested than Dennis. But Dennis Bergkamp has very great qualities.’

  The old Arsenal players said the fans, media, even the TV couldn’t see everything Dennis did. He didn’t draw attention to himself, but for them he was absolutely the technical leader. You couldn’t even see the perfection of his passes, for example. They weren’t just good but perfect. The curve, the timing, the pace . . . every pass a ‘caviar’, as Thierry Henry said. Perfect.

  ‘Yes, yes Dennis was technically brilliant. His quality is not for discussion. Extraordinary! Extraordinary! But his personality was problematic.’

  III. My Truth

  OK, DENNIS. THOSE are their truths. What are yours?

  Dennis: ‘Well, I thought a lot of the comments from Bergomi and even more from Ferri were fantastic. And Bagnoli . . . that was unbelievable because he didn’t say anything interesting, which I thought was really interesting! I mean, how can a guy in his position have nothing to say?’

  It could be shyness.

  ‘Being shy doesn’t mean you don’t have an opinion. As a coach you have to stand for something. Maybe it showed he wasn’t really important at Inter. Maybe that says it all. It sounds as if he had no power at all, no philosophy, no input with the style of football, no memory or knowledge of what the plan was with me.’

  But Bagnoli was a much-loved, old-fashioned, decent Milanese guy from the 1950s. And everyone loved him. They loved that he’d won the league with little Verona a few years before.

  ‘No doubt about it. I remember my first impression of him. I’m quite good at first impressions. And when I met him I thought immediately: “I’ve got respect for you.” I’m sure he was fantastic with Verona, and he played a certain style. OK, I didn’t see that at Inter, but I understood that about him. And he’s a decent man. He doesn’t harm anyone. He probably doesn’t make players better, but he doesn’t make a problem with them, either. Like Tommaso [Pellizzari] says, he was just there. I think maybe that half year we had together just wasn’t enough time. He says the same about me. But when you asked him: “Did you have to play pressing?” or “Did Pellegrini tell you something?” and he says: “No” or “I can’t remember” – well, I think that tells you a lot. This was probably the biggest job he ever had. So he must know every detail.

  ‘By the way, I liked what Tommaso said earlier about the ‘religious war’. I didn’t understand it like that then, but I think he’s put his finger on it. The question was: did Inter want to change? I don’t think so. It’s fantastic the way Bergomi and Ferri talk, but you can tell they didn’t want to change. Now they say it would have been a good idea, but back then I think they saw change as a threat. If we play with an extra striker or one man more in midfield, does that mean we play with one defender less? Probably. They’re not so keen on that. And what Ferri said about there being “no project” . . . that really got to the point! Tommaso backed him up on that. Yes, I think that was exactly the problem!

  ‘I must say I’m quite touched that Bergomi talks about my grande prestazione in the UEFA Cup, when I scored a lot of goals. Coming from an experienced Italian player like him, it means something. And he confirms what I said about Bianchi who really wasn’t a good guy. But when he talks about the difference between England and Italy, it reminded me of Arsene’s words about how players should serve the game. My feeling was, and sometimes still is, that in Italy they think football is Serie A! They think their league and players are the game and everyone else has to serve them. Every now and then they do make changes, like with Sacchi. But fundamentally Italian football hasn’t changed in all these years, and that’s their problem.

  ‘In a way, Inter looked like Arsenal did. Both teams with a strong, settled “old” base of defenders, and both on the verge of change. But you need strong characters within the club and help from the media. At Arsenal, the experienced players were willing to try to change. They were curious about what I could bring. [Vice-chairman] David Dein was there, Wenger came and yes, then I could make the difference with help from quality players. At Inter, they all sat back and looked at me. And taking me out to dinner is not helping me!

  ‘I found it so interesting about that guy who hates Barcelona football and even now just wants his team to score one goal and defend. I don’t think it was a joke. I think there may be a lot of people in Italy who think that way. Bagnoli says “tick, tock, tick, tock” because he thinks that sort of passing is boring. I think: “What are you watching?” But they’ve seen it, and they still don’t like it. If that’s what they feel, well, you can’t do anything. It’s the end of the conversation. It’s their opinion. Not all Italians think that way. But in general, I think Italian footballers are happy to do what they do. And they’ll always get to finals. They’ll always win trophies because there’s enough talent there. Football is their culture. Football is their thing. They do it very well.’

  Like Italian food? In London and Amsterdam and even Paris, you can go into a supermarket and buy food from all over the world. In an Italian supermarket you can buy food from all over . . . Italy.

  ‘They don’t want to change. They like their food. It’s great food. And they like their football. Why should they change? It’s not in their genes to embrace change. You never hear people saying: “Oh, I love to watch Italian football now! They made such big steps!” It didn’t happen. In England it happened with the Premier League. It happened in Spain, of course. It happened in Germany. Holland is developing all the time. That’s the Dutch thing: always change. It’s different now than it was with Michels. Cruyff is different. Van Gaal is different. It’s always evolving, and I think that’s the good thing about it. In football, you have to evolve, you have to create new things. In Italy, I feel, they’d rather stick to their old stuff, than really make . . . I mean, look at what happened with Sacchi. There’s a four, five-year Sacchi thing. “Oh wow, oh fantastic” . . . and all of a sudden straight back again. It didn’t last. Bianchi tries it for a couple of games pre-season – boom! – straightaway back. You mentioned they tried it a few times but they’re not comfortable with it, whereas in Holland, we’re not comfortable with conservative football. “This is what we’ve always done, so we’re going to keep doing it . . .” No. We always want to improve.

  ‘And the other point that really struck me, was the way they kept saying I was not being social. It’s very, very strange! Ferri said I was not open-minded. Well, I played with quite a few strikers and they were all different, and I could play with them all, so . . . not open-minded? I’m open-minded enough to come to a different country . . .’

  They
admitted you had problems with Ruben Sosa.

  ‘Yes, but even with him it’s not like a hate thing. It’s more like: “Jeez, come on man, look around you! I’m there as well.” He was the only player that I thought: “I can’t make you better in this way and you’re certainly not making me a better player, and you’re not helping your team.”’

  Did you try to talk about it with him?

  ‘No, because, remember, I was twenty-four. My career had just started. In Holland it was fantastic, but you’re in second or third gear, you’re just cruising in a way. Of course you’re doing your best, but it’s a playful thing, it goes by itself. Then – bang! – they expect you to click immediately at Inter and immediately lead a team with guys like Bergomi who’ve done everything! “OK, you’re leader now.”’

  Did they say that?

  ‘Then, no. But it shows now in the way they speak. And look at their criticism: “He should have been the leader, but wasn’t the leader because he didn’t invite us for dinner! He didn’t sing with us!” I mean . . . come on! You’re trying to adjust to the culture, and they expect you to lead straightaway?’

  If you’d known how it worked . . . if Bergomi had said: ‘Forget Holland, here it’s serious, and this is what we expect . . .’ Did you never have that kind of conversation?

  ‘Actually I did. Once. In my first season. We were on a plane – but I was OK with that at the time – and it was a really good conversation. I think Davide Fontolan was there. He was a good guy. A strong character, funny as well. And Massimo [Bergomi] and Antonio Paganin were there. And Ferri. And Wim Jonk, too. And some of them were sitting next to me and others were leaning over from the seats in front and we spoke in English and in Italian, mostly Italian, about what was expected. For the first time, I went: “Wait a minute, I’m part of this.” They were opening up. They said: “Try to be a little bit different, you know? Run a bit more. Start with that. We don’t expect you to score three goals a game, but put some working effort in there.” I was still in Ajax mode. I thought my role was to make a difference. Give me the ball, and I’ll do something. But they said – and it was one of the things I took to England later – “first work one hundred per cent and then get to football”. It was a different way of thinking.

  At Ajax I could miss a chance, and it’s no problem because I’ll get another one, and another, and another. The team is so well-organised, the patterns are known. You know where the wingers are, and the midfielders. Everyone knows what to do. But at Inter, I’d look at the team sheet and not understand a thing! Is that four-four-two? Is it four-five-one? Is it four-three-three? It was not clear to me. And no one explained it! And if I don’t know that, how can I lead? “Oh, we’re going to follow him.” But what am I doing? I’m up front with Ruben Sosa, and every game we play against five defenders. Sometimes one of our midfielders comes up, too. Great! Now we’ve got three up front. But where am I running? Where are my lines? What am I doing with the other striker? If I’ve got no relationship . . . In all the other teams I played in, if I make a certain run, I know how the others will react. But here . . .’

  So it’s not just a problem with Sosa?

  ‘It’s with the whole team! Either the system helps you, or the players help you, or a coach tells you how you’re going to play. But I had none of that. I was just, “OK we’re going to play.” And I have my striking partner, which could be Pancev or Schillaci or Sosa and I’ll be adjusting to my partner because that’s my personality. But what am I adjusting to? If he gets the ball, and I make my run, will I get it? From Sosa probably not.’

  Ferri says Sosa’s only idea – and he was great at it – was to get the ball, turn, dribble and shoot.

  ‘And I can’t blame him. In private, he’s not a bad guy, but as a player, I thought: “Wait a minute, you’re killing the team!” But he probably didn’t know anything else.’

  He scored 20 goals the season before.

  ‘Right. So who am I to criticise? But I’m coming from a place where everything is based on a system and patterns, and on playing creative attacking football . . . I was adjusting, but they want me to lead! Where do you want me to lead? How?

  ‘In Italy they see Bagnoli as an “attacking coach”, but when he explains his idea of attacking you see how different it is to mine. He says he wants two or three passes, then a shot on goal. That’s not attacking, that’s counter-attacking football. And that’s always based on: “First get your defence right, win the ball, and then you go.” Ask any Dutch guy, “What is attacking football?” and he’ll say “Dominating, playing in the other team’s half.” They’re totally different things. No one told me. No one told me! So when I signed my contract, Pellegrini and Piero Boschi [Inter general manager] said: “Yeah, yeah we’re going to change this all around. We’re going to attack, we want to play pressing.” Maybe they just had a different idea of what pressing is.’

  But they’d seen Sacchi’s Milan playing. And so had you. Didn’t Louis van Gaal take you all to Barcelona to see them beat Steaua Bucharest in the European Cup final in 1989? That’s reckoned to be one of the greatest performances ever. What did you make of it?

  ‘Yeah, we sat with Milan fans behind one of the goals. And we were fans of Milan, too, that night. But you recognised it, you recognised the football. “Oh yeah, I know how this goes and why . . .” You had Marco in the centre and Ruud Gullit operating from the side, mostly from the right. Right-half, wing, that sort of area. And Rijkaard in the middle, controlling the midfield with another guy, and on the left side, I think it was Donadoni. So there’s already three strikers and a midfielder coming as well. Hey! I know what this is . . .’

  You’re noticing that it’s Dutch Total Football but with an Italian flavour? Like the great Barcelona of Guardiola but with a Spanish-Catalan flavour, and Arsenal is the same with an English-French flavour?

  ‘Right. It was interesting, too, what Tommaso said about how Baresi and the defenders changed when Sacchi came. They were uncomfortable, then Sacchi taught them and then Berlusconi came in and said, “I don’t care what you think, this is how we’re doing it.” Pellegrini never did that. It’s very difficult to put your finger on the difference between Milan and Cruyff, or between Italian football and English football, but when I think of Cruyff, what he always says is “it’s about distances”. It’s the space between players. Sacchi used to train with ropes, and shadow playing, with eleven against zero. We did that with Arsene as well. It’s all about distances. So you learn that if your left-winger moves to make an attack, your right-back must also move. If everyone’s got a twenty-yard rope tied to the next player, tied to the next one, tied to the next one, and so on . . . it’s like a framework or grid moving all over the field all the time. He moves there, so this one automatically comes in, and you go back, and you go forward . . . When he ran one way, the whole team, in their positions, ran too. He went to the left, so we went to the left. It was all based on keeping the distances correct. If I’m near the other team’s penalty area, when I look back I’ll see Tony and Bouldy on the halfway line. The gaps should be quite small, maybe twenty or twenty-five yards between the lines.

  But at Inter I’d be up there with Sosa and let’s say two midfielders have joined the attack as well . . . I look back and my defenders and the other midfielders are still deep in their own half! There’s a huge space between us and it’s dead space! It’s killing me. It’s killing the team, because when you lose the ball, you’ve lost four players who were in attack because all the rest are just sitting back waiting for the opponent to come. Now, in my opinion, that’s not pressing football! It’s not dominating football like Barcelona, like Milan, like Arsenal, because in those teams as soon as you lose the ball, you win it back again – in their half – as soon as possible. Or, if you can’t win it in three or five seconds, then you come back in position and make the compact thing, again with the correct distances between the players. Attacking, the distance is maybe twenty-five yards on average. Defensively, it s
hould be closer, about ten or fifteen. That’s so important. At Inter I always thought, “I’m on an island here!” How am I supposed to teach them all that at the age of twenty-four? Pellegrini doesn’t understand this, obviously. And no one has said a word to Bagnoli. He’s the one who’s supposed to be teaching us in training! If they don’t even tell him . . . no chance!’

  Wim Jonk says it was Bianchi, in the second season, who tried pressing. After two games it was ‘Enough of that! It doesn’t work! Back in defence!’

  ‘Yes, I think Bianchi had more authority, more of a philosophy of, “Oh, I’m going to try this.”’

  But you never forced the issue with Bagnoli?

  ‘It’s difficult to explain why. We were just married, we’re having an extended honeymoon. I’ve got a new house. I’ve got my own car instead of a leased car. I’m trying to adjust to a different country . . . I’ve got a hundred things new in my life on a personal level. Then I’ve got another two hundred things different on a football level! I wasn’t ready. I’m still thinking, OK I’m a good player, but I’m learning. When I moved to Inter I thought I was moving to a team with experienced players, a team that will give me a solid basis, and I can give them something extra. That’s how it was later when I moved to Arsenal. Inter had experienced players, but they wouldn’t or couldn’t change, go for something new. When I moved to Arsenal, it was different, like I wanted: experienced players with an open mind, willing to follow me . . .’

  Inter’s idea of a good player and your idea of a good player are different, aren’t they? They’re thinking traditionally: the job of the forward is to produce something from nothing. Give him the ball and he’ll score somehow. We’re not sure how, but he’ll find a way, it’s his job.

  ‘A big part of it, and I kept telling them this, is they wanted me to adjust. I’d say: “You’ve got a good player, everyone would agree with that, but how are you going to use that talent?” That’s what I do now as a coach. You think: “How can I get the best I can out of that player?” That doesn’t just mean he has to adapt to the others. They have to adapt to him as well. In the UEFA Cup – Bergomi said it – I scored eight goals. I was a “fantastic” player. So surely he should be thinking: “What’s he doing that’s different? Can I help him?” Helping is not “I’ve got an idea – I’ll take him out to dinner!” That’s their own weakness, I believe. “We don’t really know what it is, so we’ll blame him, because he doesn’t socialise!”’