Stillness and Speed: My Story

by Bergkamp, Dennis

  ‘Then we get back to the hotel. The deal’s done, and we’re in our room relaxing. As normal, I look up the sports headlines on teletext. We get the BBC in Holland so I know about Ceefax. I call up Page 301 and I’m shocked. The first two lines are in huge letters: “BERGKAMP JOINS ARSENAL.” For the first time it hits me: “Woah! What’s going on here?” I’m in this big country. I’m in London. I’m in this huge strange city where they drive on the left and . . . I’m on teletext. Me! They must rate me here, they still expect me to be like Van Basten or Gullit. I don’t think of myself like that. Quickly, I go to Page 302, the football page, and there it is in more detail: “DUTCH STRIKER GOES FOR £7.5 MILLION.” It was the first time it really hit what people expected of me. I looked at Henrita: “This is amazing! I have to step up.” After Italy I had so many doubts. So many. Even when I played well, I always had to defend myself. And now you are in a hotel room and you see that. Physically it does something to you. Through your spine you get a feeling and you get a little bit emotional as well. And you look at your wife and your wife looks at you and you feel: “Wow, this is unbelievable!”

  SO DENNIS HAS signed for Arsenal, seen himself on Ceefax. He now sets off to drive home via the Channel Tunnel – and promptly gets lost. ‘I wouldn’t say lost. Not lost. We just took the long way because we made a mistake with the map. We’re on the M25 and come to . . . is it the Maidstone turn-off? We made a mistake and ended up going the wrong way along the M25 south of London.

  ‘We needed petrol so we pulled into a garage. You know how it is in a garage. There were two petrol pumps, one in front and one behind, and when I arrive the only free space is the one behind. But the car in front has just paid. As I’m filling my car, he drives off. Then another car comes up behind and they’re like: “Jeez! Why didn’t this idiot drive through to the next space?” I can see a lot of movement in that car. The guy is really angry and as he drives past me and goes into the space ahead, I can see him still gesticulating and talking to his wife . . .’

  The angry man from the other car recalls: ‘I was driving home to Croydon, and I remember there’d been talk that Dennis Bergkamp might sign for Arsenal. “I hope it’s true. God, I hope it’s true!” Anyway, I had to stop for petrol at the Clacket Lane Services [on the M25] and there was this big foreign BMW 7-Series parked on the wrong side of the pump. My first thought was: “Who is this fool?” I mean, who’d put their car in a fucking stupid place like that? So I get out of my car to tell him what I think of his parking, and he gets out of his car . . . and it’s Dennis Bergkamp! I literally screamed! He’s being Zen-Master calm, and I’m screaming because I’ve been praying that it’s true that Dennis Bergkamp is going to sign for Arsenal . . . and here he is!’

  * * *

  DENNIS TAKES UP the story: ‘He’s shouting: “Debbie! Debbie!! Look! It’s Dennis Bergkamp!” And then he runs over to me and gives me a big hug. I was quite cool and down to earth, you know, but he was so happy to see me I thought: “Jeez, I feel welcome!” Think about it. It was during the holidays. The season hasn’t started yet. And it was south of London in a place I wasn’t supposed to be. How many people live in London? Seven million? And I’ve just run into Ian Wright, who is going to be my striking partner for the next few years . . . If we’d met at the training ground or a petrol station near the training ground or near the stadium or something, OK. But in the middle of nowhere? On the day I signed? It was amazing at the time and it gets more amazing when I think about it now. What are the odds? It was meant to be! It was like a love story. Well, not a love story but . . .’

  There was another surprise in store. For Ian, the pleasure of playing alongside a footballer he hugely admired was soon doubled by the delight of rooming with his new friend. On their first night together, Dennis is in the bathroom getting ready for bed. The door swings open, Dennis walks into the room and Ian is shocked: ‘I’d never seen a footballer wearing pyjamas before! Normally a player will have nothing on. And Dennis comes out in full pyjamas! That stands out more than anything else. It was so lovely. PYJAMAS!! It was so sweet, and so family and so genuinely the right thing to do. He did that all the time with me. I’m not sure if I went out and bought pyjamas because I wanted to copy him. I don’t think I did but I certainly thought of it. Did he tell you he used to make fun of me for talking in my sleep?’

  Dennis: ‘Really? I don’t usually wear pyjamas, so I’m wondering why I did. It’s probably from my time in Italy.

  Ian also said you made fun of him because he sleep-talked.

  ‘With Ian you never know if he’s making fun or if it’s true. One night I remember, in the hotel, I was reading a book, and he was falling asleep, like normal. Suddenly he gets out of bed and goes “Hello.” Is he making fun of me? “Hello?” He walks to the door, and listens at the door and goes “Urgh! Urgh!” and makes other weird noises, and then returns to his bed, looks around and goes to sleep. And his eyes were open the whole time. It was really strange.’

  DENNIS BERGKAMP HAS been playing for Arsenal for a month and after seven games still hasn’t scored. Because of his experience in Italy, he’s not reading the newspapers. He hears, though, that the Sun is running a competition to see which of North London’s hapless new signings will be the first to break their duck. Will it be the modestly heralded Chris Armstrong at Spurs or Dennis? Three days previously, when Arsenal played at Hartlepool in the League Cup, Tony Adams scored two goals, Ian Wright one, Dennis none. The Independent’s reporter puts it as gently as possible: ‘Arsenal supporters are beginning to view a goal by Dennis Bergkamp in much the same light as a small child regards Christmas: they know it is coming, it is just the wait that is unbearable.’ The next match is at home to Southampton.

  Dennis: ‘At that time the away fans would be singing: “What a waste of money!” when I missed a chance. I thought: “Wait a minute! [laughs] You can’t say that!” But I kind of enjoyed it. It was funny and I could understand. I was also a bit upset with myself for not scoring. I only realised later that the tabloids made a huge thing out of it, which was lucky because that would otherwise have become a big thing on my mind. Against West Ham, I think, I missed two or three really good chances which I should have scored from, and I had a feeling that it affected our fans as well, in that there was a little bit of “hmmm . . .” in the crowd. They didn’t want to boo me or anything but they were like: “What’s wrong?” At Inter they would boo for sure, and Ajax fans are very critical as well. They’ll boo you when it’s nil-nil at half time. So I was expecting it. But the Arsenal fans stayed calm and that sticks in my mind. I think my problem was that I was still in Italy mode. I expected it to be tougher in England. I was getting much more space but I was still thinking: “I’ll just lay the ball off here . . .” It wasn’t a lack of confidence. It was more that my focus wasn’t really on scoring goals any more. In Italy you have to look more for penalties and free-kicks around the box or a deflected shot. And of course, it shouldn’t be taking me seven games to adjust. But I’d started with the idea it would take a few months to get used to things. Then I realised I had to speed things up. “OK, this is all good, I feel great on that pitch. I’m enjoying football again. It’s fantastic here. I have to be patient but also positive.” People hadn’t said things directly. They’d come up to me and go: “You’re doing well, but . . .” I knew what they meant. I was feeling the same thing myself. In training the players couldn’t help making little comments. They appreciate you, they think you’re a fantastic player and a nice person . . . but they expect you to do something. And there had been an interview with Alan Sugar saying something to the effect that foreign players only come here for the money. I thought: “You can’t take six months [to score]. You have to step up now . . .”’

  Ian Wright remembers: ‘When Dennis started at Arsenal he didn’t start great. There were murmurs from the fans and I remember him getting stick from a player from Hartlepool. This player from fucking Hartlepool was saying stuff to Dennis! I kind of to
ok it personally myself. Dennis was playing well, but for some reason goalies were making saves against him or whatever. And the next game was against Southampton at Highbury. In the first half I remember Glenn Helder crossing it, and the ball comes a long way, and I see Dennis winding up . . .’

  Dennis takes up the story. ‘What I remember most is that I didn’t want to take any risk. It sounds a bit strange, because it’s a difficult technique to hit a volley from a cross like that. You’ve got to get the timing right. How can I explain it? If you’d scored a hat-trick already, you’d try to hit it in the top right corner, or get a little bit of swerve on it, maybe, or hit it a little bit faster. You’d try to . . . add something, be more creative. But now the idea was: “Be solid, just get the foot against the ball and see what happens.” Just get it on target. The ball can easily end up in the goalkeeper’s hands, but that’s better than hitting it into the crowd. So, no risk whatsoever! Do it safe! And, yeah, it was far enough in the corner that the goalkeeper couldn’t reach it. I did hit it solid. It had pace. It was good enough.’

  As Highbury erupts, Dennis, in an ecstasy of relief, wheels away, arms spread and leaps in celebration. ‘The way the crowd reacted was more than I could have imagined. I wouldn’t say it was typically English but the way they celebrated, all jumping up and hands in the air together . . . it’s not explosive like that anywhere else. That moment was the start of the relationship with the Arsenal crowd. They’d been patient with me, and I didn’t know why because they didn’t know me. Maybe they saw something in the games leading up to that goal? It must be something like that because I seemed to have built up a lot of credit very quickly. Maybe they saw some moves or a pass, an assist or whatever. But they didn’t know me. They didn’t know my character and now they were giving this! The warmth was incredible. I’d only been here for one and a half months. After that goal we never lost that relationship.’

  Then you scored again. And the second was even better.

  ‘Well, that was like, “OK, now we start!” It felt like fifty kilos had been taken off my back [after that first goal]. I got the ball just over the halfway line, and I saw a lot of space in front of me. My whole game in England was filled with space. Between the lines, of course, I could play with that and create my own space with little tricks. So I have the ball. First I go to the right of the defender to get in the cross. I’m planning to cross the ball, then I realise, “I’ve got enough space to get forward here and shoot.” First, I have to get the defender out of the way, so I take him across. I’ve never been a dribbler. It’s just not my thing. So I shift to my left and then turn right. You cut into the space on the right, because you can see you have to make that move to get the shot. It’s still thirty yards out but you’re so confident. You know as well that when you take the ball from the left to the right, the ball will be rolling when you meet it. That’s going to give it some speed, so when you hit it, in the end it will turn. It will curve to the right. I mean it starts left and then turns to the right, because of that little move you’ve done with the ball just before you hit it. So you don’t aim for the corner of the goal but in the middle. You have to start it left . . . it’s something you’ve calculated many times before, so now you know what to do, though you don’t know how much exactly it’s going to swerve. Then it goes in like that, away from the goalkeeper . . . and there’s that explosion of the crowd again! That was so nice. When I look at that goal now, it seems to go much faster than I thought. In my mind everything happened slower. But certainly, from that day everything changed.’

  8

  BRUCE

  SOMEWHERE IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE where Bruce Rioch was not sacked after his one rather successful season as Arsenal manager, the following things happened: Arsenal’s new boss built on the signings of David Platt and Dennis Bergkamp to create an attacking team which changed the club’s reputation for boring football. Ian Wright was ‘offloaded’ to Glenn Hoddle’s Chelsea in late 1996, but his replacement Alan Shearer turned out to be a classic centre-forward in the Highbury tradition of Ted Drake and Tommy Lawton, benefiting from the presence of Bergkamp, new Portuguese midfielder Rui Costa and winger Marc Overmars, bought from Ajax to provide ‘ammunition’ from the wing. Arsenal’s surprising blend of English and continental talent won plenty of admirers. Meanwhile, Manchester United cemented their status as the most successful team in English history, winning the league in 1998, 2002 and 2004.

  Actually, Rioch might have done worse – or much better. ‘Bruce could quite easily have been where Arsene Wenger is today,’ says Tony Adams. ‘Quite easily. Different time, different place. But I really let him down. And so did Merse [Paul Merson]. And I’ve said sorry to Bruce. But I was spending more time in the pub than I was on the training ground. He might have been a success, but he didn’t have a chance when the club captain wasn’t there. And there were problems with other players. But he loved Dennis. I could see that.’

  We’ll never know, because just before the 1996-97 season the former Scotland captain and Bolton manager was summoned to a meeting at Highbury. Rioch, now retired and living in Cornwall, had realised early in his time at Arsenal that the board saw him as a stopgap appointment. He recalls: ‘The chairman [Peter Hill-Wood] came back from Augusta, I believe it was, and I was called into the office with him and [managing director] Ken Friar and they just said “we are parting company”. I have to say it wasn’t a surprise. I was aware from a few conversations I’d had that Arsenal had been talking with Arsene Wenger. I knew that was in the background.’

  Famously, Rioch fell out with Ian Wright, the club’s leading goal-scorer. After a pre-season match at St Albans, he’d called Wright a ‘Champagne Charlie’ in the dressing room and the relationship never recovered. Rioch: ‘If I’m being absolutely honest, you could say: “Maybe you made a bit of a mistake there, maybe you didn’t have to chew him out in front of the group.” I wouldn’t blame Ian at all. I would apportion more blame to myself, to say: “You didn’t act in the right manner probably on that occasion.”’

  He was also struggling to cope with psychologically troubled players. ‘There were a few who were having a lot of difficulties. When we went away on our first pre-season trip to Sweden, we had to take counsellors with us, for the players. They had to share rooms with the players. And I can remember one of the counsellors saying to me: “There are greater problems at this club than you realise.” I won’t say who, but I’ve had players come to me before training in tears because they’re thinking of committing suicide. And I hadn’t trained to be a counsellor! I think I did use the phrase: “I’ve spent more time at this club being like Marjorie Proops than I have being a manager.” Several lads were absolutely incredible but some had problems. I’m not saying that these were bad lads, or bad people. Not at all. I’m just saying they had problems.’

  Yet in many ways Rioch had done well. David Dein had brought Dennis Bergkamp to the club. David Platt, captain of England, had signed from Sampdoria and Arsenal began to open up, the team naturally playing more of a passing game than they had in the dog days of George Graham. In 1995 the club finished twelfth. Under Rioch the following year they finished fifth and qualified for the UEFA Cup.

  ‘When you follow a man like George Graham, of course you want to keep some of the things as they were,’ he says. ‘So we kept the coaching staff but I also wanted to add my style and my players. Dennis and David Platt were the first but there were others I had identified like Rui Costa, Marc Overmars, Alan Shearer . . . The coaching staff – Steve Burtenshaw, Stewart Houston, Geordie Armstrong and Pat Rice – all said: “Don’t touch the back line, but we are short of goals in the team.” Alan Smith had retired, Kevin Campbell and Stefan Schwarz had left the club and when I’d brought my Bolton team to Arsenal in the Cup [in 1994] – we beat them three-one – I’d seen more creativity was needed.’

  Dennis was unaware of Rioch’s plans to sell Wright and bring in Shearer and Rui Costa. ‘I never ever heard about that! I only know how
it did happen. Alan Shearer was a big player at the time, of course. But Ian Wright was really big, too. So I really don’t know how it might have worked. Someone else was pulling the strings and I’m not sure the idea of buying these players was taken seriously. I think Bruce was thinking of attacking football in the British style, with a striker in front and maybe one behind. But somehow the way that I was playing I think it would have ended up with me more as a shadow striker.’ Rioch’s ability to buy players was limited because, following the George Graham bung scandal, the manager had little control over transfer business, which was handled by Dein and Friar.

  Yet the Highbury crowd enjoyed the more attractive football Arsenal began to play. Is it too much to see in that year the beginnings of the revolution that ended with Wenger’s Invincibles? Rioch himself is both modest and generous: ‘Well, a little bit, but it was just a foot on the ladder. When I went to Arsenal I thought to myself: “I am with one of the great clubs of British football, so I’ve got to make them a great football team, which means not just winning a cup or trophy but making people remember.” That was my philosophy and that’s what I was looking for. But most certainly Arsene Wenger . . . when you look at the team he eventually put together, everybody who has been involved in football over the last fifteen years will look at that team and say: wow! I think we would all agree that team was stunning. I mean just absolutely stunning. That to me is what you work for.’

  Ian Wright, who disliked Rioch so much he had handed in a transfer request, was delighted to see him leave. But Dennis was surprised, angry and upset. ‘I liked Bruce and got on well with him. People have different thoughts about people, which is normal. But when I came to England he was my coach and he helped me a lot and we just got on. In that season [1995-96] everything was changing for me. I was transforming my game, my mind, my private life. My wife got pregnant for the first time and we were staying in a hotel for six months. I’m in a new country. I’m getting back from a difficult situation where I felt handcuffed in Italy and couldn’t express myself. So I’ve come to England and it’s all fantastic. I thought: “I can open up again!” But I needed a year, maybe two years.’