In his first years with us he was like a coiled spring, always very animated and, it seemed, frustrated with life. He was rebellious, mischievous and funny. He struck me as a very angry young man, always arguing with people outside the training ground, especially on the phone. He seemed to fly into a rage about the smallest things and went through mobile phones like they were sweets. He’d just smash phones up in frustration. Just throw them on concrete. The other players used to laugh about it and say: ‘He’s gotta calm down!’ I remember Carlos Queiroz walking past him in an airport when he punched his phone, threw it down and was generally going mad. Carlos couldn’t believe it. He’d never seen anything like that. But in a way Wayne’s anger worked for him on the field. I think it helped him become the player he could be.
Then he changed. In his early years he’d been petulant and reacted to everything on the pitch, and then, I don’t know what happened, but he did calm down. Somehow he just clicked, and matured. Maybe it just came with getting older. Maybe it was something to do with having children. To be honest, I think he went a bit too far. He cared almost too much. He started saying things like ‘I haven’t been booked this season!’ I remember thinking: ‘Yeah, but you’ve not played as well as before either – you’ve lost something.’ He was more aware of his image. The edge had gone and he was playing differently, thinking too much about not getting booked rather than going out and playing the game the way he could do it. I felt he needed that little bit of devilment in his game. I said to him: ‘I’d rather see you get sent off once or twice and play the way I know you can play.’ I think someone had spoken to him. Probably his agent or someone like that told him it would be better for him going forward. But football-wise I think he needed that old edge in his game. Not in his life obviously, but in his game. I think he lost that for maybe 18 months or two years maybe. That anger disappeared and his performances became less effective.
But after that he was top scorer, scored a hatful of goals up front on his own, as the number nine, which I think is his best position. And that season I thought: ‘He’s grown up now.’ He started to work really hard, doing more shooting practice and stuff like that. I mean he did that before, but two or three years ago he started doing it with greater intensity and seriousness and with more method to it: workmanlike and honing his craft. He’d always done extras … but there’s doing extras and doing extras. These days he tests himself all the time, does everything at match pace, not slow. He stopped taking a touch and having a look. Now it was getting the ball and … Bang! Bang! I watched him and Juan Mata one day when they put on a clinic. They were unbelievable, hitting the net from all angles, never missing.
So in 2012 he was top scorer and then the following year he says, ‘I want to play number ten. I prefer it. I’m better at number ten.’ I said to him, ‘You’ve just had your best year statistically and in terms of adulation and the media loving you. Why do you want to play ten??’ He’d just elevated himself to a level just below the two best players in the world. He was just below Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo and I thought he could go on and improve and maybe join them. I’d put Inietsa, Xavi in that category, then there’s probably a couple of tiers of players with players like Ibrahimovic, Suárez, Bale, Benzema, Pirlo, Robin van Persie.
By the way, all the talk of a problem between Wayne and Robin was nonsense. Sometimes statistics don’t tell the real story. People noticed that one didn’t pass much to the other in this game or that and decided there was a problem. I didn’t see that. I saw two great players wanting to play well with each other.
But what I found strange was that year Wayne Rooney decided he wanted to play number ten and I just couldn’t understand it! For me his best position is still number nine: when he’s in and around the defenders’ feet he’s cute. He shoots back across defenders and through their legs like Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. He does tight little turns. He knows exactly where to be in the box. He’s become a sniffer as well as a scorer of extraordinary goals. His little movements to make space for himself are so clever.
He does things other players can’t even imagine. Little chips over keepers, unbelievable volleys from distance like the West Ham goal, or the Newcastle goal. I was in the stadium when he scored the overhead kick against Man City which was voted the best ever Premier League goal. I’ll never forget that. I just stood up with my hands on my heads and said, ‘What the hell just happened?’ Don’t get me wrong. He can still play a killer pass. He’s still one of the top assist makers in the league. I just think he’s more effective up top. I think under the management of Louis van Gaal we will see the return of the Wayne Rooney who terrorises opponents.
Mums and Dads
Thoughts on love
I was a bit of a difficult so-and-so for a couple of years after Mum and Dad split up. They’d grown apart but they never explained anything to me and I blamed Mum for it. I thought it was her decision. One day when I was brushing my teeth and washing my face in the bathroom my Dad came in and said: ‘I’m going to be gone for a little while.’ I replied ‘All right’ and didn’t think anything of it. A few months then went past. ‘Is he coming back or what?’ I asked and Mum said ‘No.’ After that I made life difficult for her. I wouldn’t listen, I was a bit disruptive and then she … One night I heard a man’s voice. It was in the middle of the night about two or three years after Mum and Dad split up. We lived in a tiny flat so I could hear it clearly. I came out of my bedroom and walked into the living room to see a man sitting on the sofa and my Mum sitting on the other sofa. I went ‘Who’s this?’ And she went: ‘just go to bed. I’ll speak to you in the morning,’ and I said, ‘No, just get this guy out of the house.’
From that day I was difficult. I told my Dad straightaway and he went mad. There were a few scenes. It was difficult for my Dad to see another guy in the house with his kids. Now I’ve got kids of my own I can understand why he was upset. I just never gave the new guy, Peter, a chance. I’d say to him, ‘It’s my remote control. Give me that. It’s my TV. You’re not part of this house’ and stuff like that, which put Mum in such a bad position. She’d met someone after a few years of being alone and I was making it ultra difficult for her to have a relationship. One day at my auntie’s she just broke down and said, ‘Listen, you’ve got to understand!’ That led to a long talk about relationships and how things just don’t work out sometimes. And it was just … it was one of those good conversations and I felt bad. I thought ‘I’ve been acting like an idiot.’ From that day on, while I didn’t automatically like the guy, I was going to respect my Mum’s decision that she needed to have a life as well. It was a big moment really.
A couple of years later my Mum married Peter and I made a speech saying ‘listen, as long as you look after my Mum and make her happy, then I’m happy.’ And he has done. He’s been perfect for Mum. He’s been brilliant. My Mum couldn’t have met anyone better. And we get along great with him now. He’s bought into the family: he’s a football fan now, he loves Man United and he’s great with my kids. He’s become a terrific grandparent. Meanwhile Dad met someone else too – Lisa – and I must admit I made it a lot easier for her to get into the family. At first I had reservations about her. ‘She’s not my Mum. What’s she doing here?’ But it was a quicker transition than for Peter. So the family is much bigger now. There’s me and Anton of course. Then there’s Sian and Jeremiah, Mum’s children with Peter, and Lisa’s children with Dad who are Chloe, and the twins Anya and Remy. And I have to say Lisa’s been great as well.
Ultimately, I think it’s all broadened my understanding. I know why there were so many problems in the past, and I understand a lot more about how the dynamics of relationships affect kids. When my Mum and Dad were together I always used to say I was the lucky one in my class. Until they split up, and then I was thinking: my Mum and Dad are the same as everyone else’s.
Dad could quite easily have gone and lived in another part of the country. In fact he thought about going back to the Caribbean. Bu
t I was lucky that he made the conscious, concerted effort to stay around. He moved to the next estate so although he was no longer in the house he was still ever-present in my life – so, emotionally I wasn’t too badly affected. Perhaps if he had moved away I would have had a bigger reaction. Dad went out and worked all the hours God sent, all over London, and was always around for me. Sometimes you see kids who turn to drugs and drink and various vices and, when they look back, they blame it on the moment when one of their parents walked out and left them. So I’d say I was fortunate, in that he didn’t give me that excuse.
I never believed in marriage until I had kids of my own because my Mum and Dad never got married. I thought that was the norm. But now I realise it’s a good thing for everybody concerned. And that’s why I got married, and because I love Rebecca, of course! I never did counselling or therapy or anything like that. I just worked it out myself, really. But now I’m a Dad. I’ve got a lovely family and I’m totally committed to sticking with that and making that work. I’m sure that comes from my own experience as well. Mum looked after other people’s kids and looked after us, and moved heaven and earth to make sure we got to places on time. We went to school. We went to youth clubs. My auntie ran a youth club in New Cross not far from where we lived and Mum made sure I got there. Mum cooked and cleaned, and made sure I didn’t miss out on anything. She was just a massively good, hard-working, devoted mum.
No one really got married in my family so it was never really on my agenda. But then I had kids and what bigger commitment is there than that? I don’t know what it was but it just seemed like a natural progression to get married. I think when you’re in love with your kids and your family life and your girlfriend – as Rebecca was for me at the time – it is just a seamless transition.
I always feel like I’m still pretending to be an adult. It’s like the old saying that you never grow up. You never feel that you’re completely grown up is where I’m at. I think that keeps me young! You don’t get a book that tells you how to be a parent. No one tells you how each kid should be fathered. It’s all work in progress. But when I look at my three kids and I sit there and think, ‘wow! How have I created these?’ It still feels like it was only a couple of years ago that I was back at school. Time flies when you’re having fun. I love being a human climbing frame for my kids to clamber all over me. I love how, no matter what’s happened at work, no matter what’s happened in a game, you come home and the kids just look at you as their dad. There’s nothing else. I love looking after them. The responsibility of having to take care of someone else is a nice thing to have. But Rebecca is the one who makes it all function. She is a great Mum. She’s the one who makes sure everything is in the right place and at the right time. She’s the one who makes sure the kids are up and doing what they are meant to be doing and eating and bathing and going to sleep. She’s the one who makes it all work.
I still look at the young boys now and listen to their stories and think, yeah, I wouldn’t mind once every few months going out and partying. But I had my time. I had a good time doing that but that was a different phase in my life and this is a different time now. It corresponds a bit to the change in my football life as well. The more professional I’ve got over the years coincided with having kids. I’m not stupid enough to think that everything’s perfect now or that I’m perfect. I’m going to make mistakes and wrong decisions in future. I know that. But I try and learn.
One of the great things about Rebecca is that she’s not one to talk about football. She doesn’t care about it. If you’ve won she’s happy, but she doesn’t want to know the details and that suits me. It’s easier for me because I can switch off when I come home. She’s never been interested in fame or anything like that or the WAG lifestyle. She doesn’t want to be in the papers or do photo shoots. And that’s good, too. It avoids putting any more pressure on the kids. We’ve been together a long time now. We met when she was 18 and I was nearly 21. We’ve had our ups and downs like every relationship. But we’ve had a great time and grown up together. She’s matured, I’ve matured and we’ve grown into being parents now. We look at each other sometimes and think, wow, we’re actually great at this! I thought we were just still playing at this, that it’s a game … but it’s not.
Ronnie and Leo
Arrogant?
Rubbish!
Who is the best player in the world? New pretenders will stake their claims. But for the last few years only two names have been worth serious consideration. One of them is a friend of mine. The other is a genius I faced in the two most painful games of my career and I’ll never forget how good he was.
Before I give my verdict on Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi, the most important thing to say is that they are both extraordinary professionals. They didn’t get where they are without years of dedication. Some kids envy their trappings of success – money, cars, beautiful girlfriends and all that. But you have no chance of becoming a star if that’s the stuff you’re thinking about. Leo and Ronnie are fantastic examples of guys who are motivated by something else: passion for the game, the desire to improve, and the determination and hunger to work hard and improve to make it happen. I think both of them have incredible determination, but show it in different ways.
Ronaldo is the best example of a self-made great player. Don’t get me wrong. He was born with fantastic natural talent. But it’s his work ethic that took him to the top. He is one of the hardest workers I’ve ever seen. I remember watching him soon after he arrived in Manchester. After training he would pick up a bag of balls, and almost shyly walk over to the other pitch, as if he’d be embarrassed if people knew he was going to do extra work. Then he’d put little weights on his ankles and practise free kicks, step-overs and other skills. After a while you started seeing the results. He was getting more powerful, growing into his physique. He was a workaholic, but it didn’t stop there. He lived a couple of doors up from me so I’d see him at his house. He had a special chef to cook the right type of foods. He invested in that himself. And he had a swimming pool so he could do special stretching exercises. Everything about his lifestyle was geared to becoming the best footballer in the world, which he wanted to be and which he achieved.
He learned. When Ronaldo first arrived Ruud van Nistelrooy was the main man at United. Everyone loved him because he scored so many goals. Then this little young, skinny Portuguese boy with funny hair comes along with his step-overs and dancing and the crowd loved him. One day in training Ronnie was taking the mick out of the left back, beating his man then going back and beating him again. Ruud was furious and started shouting: ‘Cross the fucking ball! How can I make runs when I don’t know when you’re going to cross the ball?’ Ronaldo was like, ‘But I’m doing skills, what’s wrong with you?’ But Ruud said, ‘I can’t play with this guy,’ and walked off. There were a couple of incidents like this before Ronaldo understood: he realised you’re always going to be respected more for being effective than being a show pony. It takes intelligence to understand that the game is not all about skill. I used to tell him to concentrate on end product. I loved the stuff he did. But I liked it better when it produced a cross or a shot. He went on to become more than effective. He became lethal. He developed every aspect of his game. He had all the attributes. If he could put it together he was going to be devastating. And he’s never stopped developing. He still keeps adding new things to his game because he’s constantly thinking about it. He’s always analysing: ‘What is going to make me the best player in the world?’ And he worked out what that was: assists, goals, being decisive … and turning up in the big games. That’s why he breaks records and why he was voted World Player of the Year in 2014.
Some people think he’s arrogant. Rubbish! Listen a bit more closely to the criticisms and you’ll see what they’re really about. Of course there’s a debate to have about who’s the best. But some people say Messi purely because Ronaldo is good looking. Their wives and girlfriends are probably thinking ‘I’d l
ove to go out with Ronaldo,’ but they don’t think that about Messi. So he’s not a threat! Ronnie’s got all the cars, all the money God can send. Good looking. Physique? Ridiculous! What more does he want? He can’t be the best player in the world as well! So I can’t say he’s the best as well! Jealousy is what it boils down to sometimes.
Everybody who slags Ronaldo off is actually doing him a favour. He almost needs to have people saying Messi is better. It drives him on. You see it in the defiant way he celebrates: ‘I told you!’ People mistake that for arrogance. It’s more like: ‘I told you! You better believe in what I’m doing.’ It’s not ‘I’m better than everyone else!’ He’s just not like that as a person at all.
People didn’t understand his celebration at the end of the 2014 Champions League Final when he scored the penalty to make it 4–1 for Real against Atlético, and then took his shirt off. People complained, ‘Oh, he shouldn’t have done that. He is taking attention away from the other players.’ No, he’s not! You don’t know. That celebration was pure emotion. He would’ve been thinking, ‘If this final finishes and I’ve not scored a goal, I will look at that as an embarrassment.’ He wanted to make an impact on that game. That’s what I saw in his reaction. It was: ‘I’ve scored! Now I can celebrate properly!’ That’s the sign of a great player not an egotistical one. In my experience he’s not self-centred or arrogant at all. At United he was always involved in the jokes. Whatever was going on in the changing room, he’d be involved. Quinny – Quinton Fortune – used to batter him about his hair, clothes. But he’d always fight back. ‘Oh you English have no style.’
#2Sides: My Autobiography Page 17