I’m Not Really Here
Page 32
The tests had shown that, whilst he was exceptionally bright in many areas and presented as a very happy and affectionate child, our son displayed certain personality traits that correlated with PDD. As Edward carefully constructed a Lego spaceship in the play area, the consultant sat us down to discuss his diagnosis in more detail.
He explained that children like Edward often view life in an extremely literal, factual way. As a result, they tend to shy away from imaginary play, seeking solace and comfort in numbers and statistics and developing fixations on very specific subjects, such as outer space or prehistoric animals. Preferring to adhere to strict, orderly routines, they need a great deal of structure in their lives and occasionally react badly to sudden or unexpected change.
Children with similar conditions, according to the consultant, also found it difficult to grasp certain conventions of social behaviour.
‘Kids like Edward can be quite self-centred, so communication skills don’t always come naturally,’ he said. ‘Sometimes they have to be taught things that their friends may do instinctively, such as how to show empathy, how to accept defeat, that kind of thing.’
Finally, he outlined how ‘sensory processing issues’ were commonplace, Edward’s hypersensitivity to sudden, loud noises going some way to explain his long-standing phobia of large crowds and booming fireworks.
‘There’ll be a few challenges ahead, I’m sure,’ he admitted, ‘but from what I’ve seen of Edward, there’s every chance that he’ll do really well in life. He’ll just need a bit more of a helping hand, that’s all.’
That night, as our son slept soundly in the next room, Jo and I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and, as our rock ’n’ roll lifestyle dictated, listening to Radio 4’s Shipping Forecast.
‘I know you’re worried about Eddie,’ I said, sensing my wife’s anxiety, ‘but don’t be, he’ll be fine. He’s got me and you in his corner, hasn’t he?’
I woke up the next morning and walked Edward to school, pointing out the usual cats on doorsteps and funny-shaped clouds.
‘Bye bye, Daddy,’ he said when we reached the doorway, flashing me a smile and blowing me a kiss.
‘See you later, buddy …’
My heart melted as I watched him skip into the classroom and make a beeline for his favourite number puzzle. I turned around and headed back home, feeling privileged to have been handed the job of guiding this little gem through life.
Following Edward’s diagnosis, we were swamped with advice from every direction, ranging from parent support networks to kids’ youth groups. Conscious that he found many team sports a real trial – particularly football – we decided to try to find a suitable substitute to help keep him fit and healthy. Standing out from the crowd was a charitable organisation called Jump Space, a trampoline club based in the centre of Stockport. By actively welcoming children on the autistic spectrum – as well as their siblings – and by focusing on noncompetitive activities, it seemed just the ticket. Bowled over by Jump Space’s team of sunny staff, we signed Edward up on the spot, and within weeks he was twisting, turning and tuck-jumping like a natural.
‘I’m higher than the moon,’ he’d yell, his smile widening and his confidence rising with every bounce.
Hannah soon followed suit in joining the club, and Jo and I found ourselves becoming part of its extended ‘family’. We were befriended by lots of dedicated parents, many of whom had inspirational stories about how trampolining had helped their kids both physically and emotionally.
Like most charities, Jump Space was continually strapped for cash. Aware of its potential to make a difference, I decided to pull my finger out and do something practical to help. I became its official patron and, using my contacts in football, set about identifying a variety of different fundraising opportunities. Within a few weeks the Manchester City Supporters’ Club had adopted Jump Space as its primary charity, and a City-supporting owner of a local coach firm, Haytons, had donated a free trip to Chester Zoo for the children.
On a roll, I decided to try to set up a meeting with Manchester City’s chief executive, Garry Cook, in the hope that he’d be able to help out in some way. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I suppose. I’d already met him a couple of times before, most notably at the 20th anniversary of the 5–1 derby. I’d helped to organise a player reunion at a supporters’ club in the Cheshire village of Poynton, and City’s CEO had made a surprise appearance. As he sat chatting to a table of ex-players that included Jason Beckford, Gary Fleming and Steve Redmond, my first impressions were of a very affable, approachable guy. Later that evening, he’d given a rousing speech about Sheikh Mansour’s City vision, a far-reaching blueprint which ranged from stadium improvements and squad developments to building legacies and winning trophies.
A fortnight after making contact with his secretary, I found myself sitting opposite Garry in his Eastlands office, waxing lyrical about Jump Space, explaining how so many kids had benefited from all its good work, and how it had been my personal crusade to raise as much cash for the charity as possible. The meeting’s outcome exceeded all expectations, with Garry giving the go-ahead for a bucket collection outside the ground before a forthcoming match, something that would be guaranteed to raise sizeable funds.
We walked out of the office building together, chatting about all the goings-on at the City of Manchester Stadium, before Garry switched the conversation to me, asking how things had gone since my time at Bolton Wanderers. I told him about my presenting job on Blue Tuesday, and my hospitality duties on a match day, and how much I was enjoying both roles.
‘And how’s your physiotherapy practice going?’ he asked.
‘It’s all right, thanks,’ I said, although my expression probably told a different story.
The next day my phone rang; it was Garry again.
‘Just wondering whether you could meet me for coffee next week, Lakey,’ he asked, ‘only there’s something I want to run by you.’
‘Our chat the other day got me thinking,’ he said, when we met up at Eastlands for a second time. He told me that he’d been really impressed by all the work I was doing for Jump Space, and how my passion and enthusiasm for the charity had shone through during our meeting. He’d also, he admitted, had an inkling that I was no longer motivated by physiotherapy.
He then got to the crux of the matter, informing me that the club was planning to expand the fundraising arm of its City in the Community scheme, and that it was seeking to appoint an ambassador to help spearhead the initiative. They were looking for a former player, preferably someone who had a feel for the club, its fan base and its community; someone who could communicate well, who felt comfortable in the media spotlight, and who had experience of working with charities.
‘I think you’d fit the bill perfectly,’ he said.
On 19 March 2010, all suited-and-booted, I attended a staff presentation day at Eastlands, a quarterly event that the club regularly hold in order to acknowledge long-serving employees and recent staff arrivals. Mine was the final name on Garry Cook’s list of new recruits, all of whom had been greeted with a rousing round of applause.
‘And last but not least,’ he announced, ‘I’d like to introduce Paul Lake, our new Ambassador for City in the Community.’
I stood up and gave a quick nod.
‘I’ve just got two words to say to you, Lakey,’ he said with a smile.
‘Welcome home.’
Picture Credits
The author and publisher would like to thank the following copyright-holders for permission to reproduce images and lyrics in this book:
Lyrics to Life Turned Upside Down reproduced with kind permission of Badly Drawn Boy Music Ltd
Youth team doing the can-can (picture by Magi Haroun)
Paul Lake stretchered off during Manchester City v Bradford City, 1988 (picture by Colorsport)
England under-21 line-up v Albania, 1989 (picture by Colorsport)
Paul Lake, Republic of Ireland B v Englan
d B (picture by Colorsport)
Paul Lake swallowing tongue (picture by Manchester Evening News)
Maroon City kit. Tottenham Hotspur v Manchester City, 1990 (picture by Colorsport)
Yellow City kit. Arsenal v Manchester City, 1989 (picture by Colorsport)
Paul Lake and Ian Bishop celebrate, 1989 (picture by Getty Images)
Paul Lake and Viv Anderson, Manchester City v Manchester United, 1989 (picture by Colorsport)
Paul Lake, Tony Cascarino and Dwight Yorke (picture by Action Images)
Portrait of Paul Lake (picture by The Observer)
Paul Lake at Lilleshall (picture by Rex Features)
Paul Lake rehabilitating in swimming pool, 1994 (picture by Manchester Evening News)
Testimonial, guard of honour (picture by PA Sport)
Testimonial, waving (picture by PA Sport)
Last day at Maine Road (picture by PA Sport)
Paul Lake as Macclesfield Town’s physiotherapist (picture by Getty Images)
Paul Lake with Ian Brightwell and Tony Book, 2010 (picture by Roland Cooke)
Paul Lake on the cover of match day programme, 2011 (picture by Sharon Latham)
Paul Lake holding FA Cup (picture by Kevin Cummins)
Paul and Joanne Lake sat under Paul’s name (picture by Kevin Cummins)
All other images are courtesy of Paul and Joanne Lake’s personal collection.
Mum and Dad’s wedding day, 1955.
David, me, Tracey and Michael, 1973. Fringes courtesy of Pyrex pudding bowls.
The St Mary’s RC Primary School team at Wembley in June 1980, prior to the Smiths Crisps six-a-side final. I’m flanked by our manager, John Mercer, and the ex-Chelsea and Arsenal star John Hollins.
The victorious St Mary’s side, together with silverware. The ‘grass’ that we’re standing on was our home pitch, believe it or not.
Manchester City’s feeder team, other-wise known as Blue Star FC. My team mates included Steve Redmond (top row, second left) and Andy Hinchcliffe (end of bottom row).
Celebrating in the dressing room after winning the FA Youth Cup in 1986. Our coaches, the great Tony ‘Skip’ Book and Glyn Pardoe, are in the background.
Reddo and I, in our YTS apprentice days, being put through our paces at City’s Platt Lane training ground.
Home grown lads together. Left to right: Me, Andy Hinchcliffe, Ian ‘Bob’ Brightwell, Steve Redmond, David White and Paul Moulden.
Being stretchered off against Bradford in 1987. The start of all of my problems.
Denton’s footballing Lake brothers. At that time I was playing for City, Michael for Macclesfield Town and David for semi-pro club Droylsden FC.
The Lakes en masse at my elder sister Susan’s wedding.
The England under-21 XI, lining up in Albania, March 1989. Back row, left to right: Me, Steve Bull, Stuart Ripley, Nigel Martyn, Paul Ince, David Burrows. Front: David Smith, Michael Thomas, Steve Chettle, Steve Redmond, Steve Sedgley.
My only appearance for the England ‘B’ side. It was always an honour to play for my country.
The tongue-swallowing incident of March 1989. You can see the players screaming for the club doctor as physio Roy Bailey tries to clear my airway.
Mum and Dad enjoying a night out.
With a pair of City mascots, Mark and Dan Thomas, before a home game at Maine Road.
Hoisting up Ian Bishop after goal three of our 5-1 rout of Manchester United. September 23rd 1989 was, without doubt, one of the best days of my life.
Here’s my favourite ever City kit, worn when I was at the peak of my game…
…and here’s my least favourite, worn just once against Arsenal in 1989.
Getting the better of Manchester United’s Viv Anderson.
Showing Tony Cascarino and Dwight Yorke a clean pair of heels at Villa Park, April 1990. Five months later, I would rupture my cruciate ligament during the match against Aston Villa at Maine Road.
This portrait of me was taken for The Observer in 1992. The dark clouds were gathering.
On crutches in a Los Angeles hotel after yet another major operation to rescue my career. I think my demeanour says it all.
Embarking on my rehab programme at Lilleshall alongside physio Grant Downey, cricketer Neale Foster, and tennis player Chris Bailey.
Painting on a smile as I prepare for a hydrotherapy session with physio Eamonn Salmon and three City colleagues.
A 1996 X-ray of my right knee, taken after surgery to straighten it. You can clearly see the metalwork keeping the joint together.
My emotionally charged testimonial game, October 1997. I still find it extremely difficult to look at this photograph.
The hardest goodbye. My sad farewell to the Maine Road faithful.
Jo and I on our wedding day, September 2001.
Saluting the fans before the last ever match at Maine Road, May 2003. It was a very poignant day. The old stadium meant the world to me.
Adopting a new role as a physio. Here I’m consoling Macclesfiel Town goalie Tommy Lee after his sending off at Stamford Bridge in 2007.
Lakey, Skip and Bob too, 2010.
Fame at last. Gracing the front cover of the Manchester City programme in order to promote the club’s community scheme.
You beauty…! Getting my hands on the FA Cup, won by Manchester City in May 2011.
Jo and I at the City of Manchester Stadium. I’m incredibly honoured to be among a select group of players whose names are emblazoned around the ground.
Index
The page references in this index correspond to the printed edition from which this ebook was created. To find a specific word or phrase from the index, please use the search feature of your ebook reader.
PL indicates Paul Lake.
Abu Dhabi United Group 380
Adams, Danny 359
Adams, Tony 192, 244
Adcock, Tony 90, 91
Albania 182–6, 187
Allen, Clive 142, 143, 149
Allison, Malcolm 92, 138
Altrincham FC 351, 353
Anderson, Viv 149, 150
Archibald, Steve 177
Arsenal 20, 55, 119–20, 123, 161, 179, 317
Askey, John 357–8
Aston Villa 34, 189, 199–200, 211, 282, 325, 357, 385
Atkinson, Dalian 192
Atkinson, Ron 54
Bailey, Chris 218–19
Bailey, Roy 62, 85, 101, 103, 126, 154, 201, 202–3, 205, 206, 240, 311, 342, 381
Ball, Alan 292–3, 302–4, 317, 318
Banks, Tony 296, 297–8
Barclay, Patrick 278
Barnes, John 95, 185, 190, 196, 214, 222
Barnes, Ken 35–6, 58, 63, 68, 69, 303, 321, 360, 362, 380–3
Barnes, Peter 35, 84, 138, 382, 383, 385
Barnsley 123
Barr, Andy 351, 371, 373
Barrett, Earl 34, 79
Batty, Dave 192
Beagrie, Peter 276, 291
Beardsley, Peter 95, 190, 191
Beardsmore, Russell 152, 154
Beattie, Kevin 348
Beckford, Darren 111
Beckford, Jason 67, 71, 106, 108, 111, 144, 154, 202, 235, 334, 380, 396
Beckham, David 327, 328
Bell, Colin 13, 204, 298, 320, 331, 363, 380
Bernstein, David 344
Beresford, John 34
Biggins, Wayne 98, 122
Birmingham City 92, 130, 134
Bisham Abbey 178
Bishop, Ian 142, 144, 150, 153, 159
Blackburn Rovers 55, 104, 159, 179, 215
Blackpool 93, 368
Blue Print 121
Blue Tuesday 376, 378–79, 396
Bolton Wanderers 371–5, 398
Bond, John 131–2
Book, Tony ‘Skip’ 28, 30–4, 37–8, 50, 52, 55–6, 58, 61, 80, 130, 142–3, 145, 146, 147–8, 150, 151, 154, 159, 179, 240, 241, 303, 304, 320, 380
Booth, Tommy 362
Boston United 370
&n
bsp; Bough, Frank 173, 174
Bournemouth 125, 126, 142, 151, 342, 343, 344
Boyd, David 57
‘The Boys in the Blue’ 44, 202
Bradford City 89, 96, 127–8, 130–5, 158
Brennan, Mark 200
Brescia 231–2
Bridges, Ron 102
Bright, Mark 124, 305, 369
Brightwell, David 273, 274
Brightwell, Ian ‘Bob’ 26, 27, 79, 85, 92, 126, 129, 144, 178, 179, 188, 207, 230, 273–6, 293, 359–60
Brightwell, Robbie 26, 273–6, 293
Bruce, Steve 146
BSkyB 234, 236, 237
Bull, Steve 189, 190
Burnley 338–41, 342–7, 350
Burns, Mickey 308, 309
Butt, Nicky 327
Campbell, Bobby 122
Campbell, Eric 356
Cascades 219–20
Cascarino, Tony 100
Caton, Paul 353
Channon, Mick 137
Charlton 164
Chartered Physiotherapy course, Salford University 350–2
Cheeseman, Ian 155, 376–7, 378
Chelsea 20, 67, 98, 122, 123, 317, 369