The Klinsmann admission was just one of many concerns raised by the Sky interview. Attacking Rick Parry – he called his period as chief executive a 'disaster' – was not the Liverpool way, and to use such a word just two days after the anniversary of the Hillsborough tragedy was insensitive.
Hicks raised broader issues about how Liverpool had been run over the previous decade, particularly in the area of commercial development. Whenever I've heard criticism of this aspect of the club I've felt there's been a large dose of hypocrisy from the fans. If you compare us to Manchester United, there's a massive gulf in what they earn from merchandise or tickets that has developed over twenty-five years. That's why we're talking about a new stadium. The only reason supporters make an issue out of this now is because they've belatedly realized how far behind we are and accept that if you haven't got mega-money, you can't compete.
If you go back to 1990 when we won our last League title and United were often linked with unpopular takeovers such as those by Robert Maxwell or Michael Knighton, our fans were laughing at theirs. We were the family club that didn't have to sell its soul to win the title, whereas they were always focused on exploiting their brand name across the world. There's an inevitable inconsistency here. On the one hand we're a proud working-class club, but on the other we want our board to behave like ruthless capitalists and think it's great if American and Arab billionaires want to give us lots of money.
I've heard our supporters complain, rightly, about increased season ticket prices and regular kit changes, but then they say the club should be doing more to fleece supporters living in Malaysia or Thailand. We have supporters' groups who admirably wish to protect the Scouse roots of Liverpool FC and ensure there's always an affiliation between the club and the community. Some are resentful of what's often referred to as the 'out of town' influence at Anfield, where coaches from the rest of the country and flights from Ireland and Norway invade the city on a match day. At the same time, some of the same people will accuse Liverpool of being too slow to follow United to areas of Europe and the Far East to attract a wider fan base and raise money.
We can't have it both ways. If Liverpool really wants to be like Manchester United off the pitch as much as on it, sacrifices will have to be made to our identity – and we do want it, as proved by the fact we were so accepting of the American takeover and held SOS DIC banners on The Kop. Finding the right balance between how the traditional fans want us to be seen and becoming a 'brand name' across the world is tricky, but there's no point rewriting history to attack the old board for having difficulty coming to terms with these contradictions. It's only in recent times the fans have accepted we have to change and think in a more global sense about the club's future. If you'd have said we needed to pursue this path while Kenny was lifting the League title in 1990, there would have been a supporters' backlash. For Hicks to use the argument about our lack of commercial development as another stick with which to beat Parry was too simplistic and demonstrated a limited view of our recent history.
All the Sky interview achieved was to expose how deep the divisions at the club had become. As players, there was no possibility of publicly backing one side over the other, you simply had to make your mind up on the basis of what you read, saw and heard. I fail to see how the interview served any positive purpose, especially as at the time we were concentrating on the vital Champions League semi-final against Chelsea.
The owners told us they wanted the best for the club. Couldn't they see that what was happening was the opposite of what we needed? DIC were said to be ready to pay £400 million to buy the club off the Americans. That's what the fans wanted, but these figures disgusted me too. Liverpool had been bought for around £200 million a year earlier, but was now double its value. Think how many world-class players that £200 million could have brought to the club. Instead, if Gillett and Hicks did sell, they or their banks would make a huge profit. I felt ill thinking about it.
As far as I was concerned, there was no other conclusion: everyone at Liverpool had to get together urgently to sort out the situation, and that included Rick and the former chairman, who inevitably took criticism for selling to Hicks and Gillett instead of DIC. They said they had concerns when DIC didn't complete their first takeover attempt as quickly as expected, and after Gillett and Hicks made a bigger offer many shareholders said the board was obliged to rethink their options. Few opposed the deal at the time, largely because Rick and the chairman said they were convinced of the Americans' credentials. But if they could turn back time, maybe they'd act differently. In the meantime, all everyone involved can do is try to heal the wounds, if it's possible.
As I write this, the ownership of Liverpool remains uncertain. Hicks claimed he wouldn't sell to DIC and Gillett retaliated by insisting he wouldn't sell to Hicks. If Hicks took full control he'd replace Rick Parry and David Moores, but they were working to ensure Hicks left first. In the biggest twist of all, the only man at the club who felt safe in the knowledge he would still be at Liverpool at the start of 2008–09 was Rafa Benitez. When he thinks back to his press conference in Athens and how it's played out since, maybe he's the one who wouldn't act any differently. He took major risks, but he's still the manager, which as far as Liverpool fans are concerned is the main thing. If you're reading this and there's been no progress in the boardroom battle, it must still be a difficult time to be a Liverpool fan.
My hope is that for all their differences, everyone in a position of power at Anfield will put aside their own agendas and think not only about 2008–09, but the next twentyfive, even fifty years of Liverpool Football Club. We can't have arguments played out in public every week, and we can't ever hope to catch Manchester United and Chelsea if we're too busy scrapping with one another to take the fight to them. Whatever our situation we have to get on with it and try to restore the dignity that has always been associated with Liverpool.
Inevitably, my discussing this issue may create new headlines at the start of the current season. There are those who may say there is a contradiction between my calling for a return to what I call The Liverpool Way and making comments that remind everyone of the problems at boardroom level. I sat down to write this book in the summer of 2007 with no idea of the crisis on the horizon. There were no plans to include such a difficult chapter twelve months ago. Having committed myself to as honest and forthright a view of my club as possible, it was impossible for me to ignore this situation or refuse to give my opinion on it. My thoughts have been expressed in this book as a consequence of events that were thrust into the public eye by others, not by me.
To onlookers, it must have seemed like everyone was falling out with each other at Anfield in 2007–08. The campaign began with Rafa's assistant Pako Ayesteran leaving the club. It took me by surprise. I headed in to Melwood one Friday at the end of August to be informed Pako had gone. Rafa said he was upset Pako had spoken to other clubs and accused him of disloyalty. I've never spoken to Pako since so didn't get to hear his side of the story. It was sad to see him go, but such circumstances regularly occur in football. Without wishing to sound uncaring, you have to move on quickly. He was replaced by another fitness coach and that was that so far as I was concerned. Some players were more affected by his departure than others. He had a particularly close relationship with the Spanish lads, and also got on with Steven Gerrard.
Although he didn't show much emotion, I also felt for the manager. He'd arrived from Valencia in 2004 with his own backroom team but, for different reasons, each had now gone. Paco Herrera, our highly rated chief scout and reserve team manager who identified many of Rafa's signings, left in 2006 to return to his family in Spain. The goalkeeping coach Jose Ochoterana followed him in 2007, and now Pako was gone too.
The day after Pako's departure we beat Derby County 6–0 at Anfield to stay top of the table and consolidate our best ever start to a Premier League season. It was far too early for predictions, but with Fernando Torres immediately settling in and Ryan Babel
showing signs of promise, the mood was upbeat. But that afternoon was probably as optimistic as it got. A series of draws lost us momentum, and as the season progressed familiar failings were revived.
Our Champions League form ensured we had plenty to play for until the final weeks of the season. Beating Inter Milan and Arsenal added to our impressive list of scalps, but defeat to Chelsea in the semi-final meant, ultimately, those victories won't stand up to comparison with those in 2005. As in Athens, our loss to Chelsea prompted headlines about revenge for those earlier encounters, but it was nothing of the sort. Since 2005 we've played Chelsea in four semi-finals in four seasons, winning three. The law of averages was bound to catch up with us eventually.
The most encouraging aspect of an otherwise disappointing year was the impact of Torres. To score thirty-three goals in his debut season was beyond any expectations, and if he repeats that form in the years to come he'll be well on the way to securing legendary status.
I've mentioned already how the first day of pre-season training is spent assessing if our new faces are going to make us any better, and the instant excitement was hard to contain with Fernando. He's built for Premier League football, strong, fast and skilful – as he proved in the Euro 2008 final by outpacing and outmuscling Germany's Philipp Lahm to score Spain's winner. I'm glad I only have to mark him in five-a-sides. His presence alongside Steven Gerrard offers hope of more silverware in years to come. With Javier Mascherano added to the ranks permanently during the course of last season, the fans can see a strong spine to our line-up. The hope must be that unlike those other summers of transition, we'll add those missing elements to sustain a title challenge.
Secure in his position, Rafa was able to continue his rebuilding in the summer of 2008, purchasing a couple of full-backs in Philipp Degen and Andrea Dossena, while moving on an established player in John Arne Riise and bringing Peter Crouch's Anfield career to an end. I was particularly delighted to see us chasing Tottenham's Robbie Keane to partner Fernando Torres. Keane's a player I've long admired who seemed to play well against Liverpool, especially at Anfield. On a personal level, I was also pleased to welcome Sammy Lee back to the coaching staff. He missed out on the assistant manager's job in 2004, but now ensures the local heartbeat of the club remains intact.
Naturally, we returned to Melwood for pre-season in the summer of 2008 confronted with the same subject that has plagued Liverpool since 1990, accentuated by Manchester United's latest Premier League and Champions League double. Should anyone at Liverpool be asked about our chances of catching United, I'll happily accept the supporters demanding only one satisfactory response from the players, manager and board: 'Actions speak louder than words.' We're all on the same side, after all.
13
Walk On
I stare at my medal collection and there's a gaping, lingering hole. It's a void I fear will never be filled before that dreaded moment when I wear the red shirt for the last time.
Since I turned thirty, the pain of having no League title medal seems to have intensified. I can't even really argue we've come close to ending our Premier League drought. We've started every summer with fresh hope, but by February it feels we're already asking ourselves where it's gone wrong and thinking ahead to the following season. It hurts more as you begin to appreciate time is as much a rival as those other top clubs you're trying to overtake. I may only have the three years left on my current Liverpool contract to win the League, and it will sicken me not to achieve it.
I'm fixated by this goal, consumed by my determination to bring the title back to Anfield. I don't just think about winning the League once a day, but sometimes as many as half a dozen times in an afternoon. Every conversation I have with fans and friends covers the same territory. Winning the title has become Liverpool's obsession, but whereas the supporters have their lifetimes to realize the ambition of seeing us reclaim the League, as a player I'm rapidly running out of opportunities.
I'm at one of the few clubs capable of winning it, providing we do everything possible on and off the park. With Chelsea such a powerful financial force, and Manchester United able to build on strong foundations year to year, we're under no illusions about the size of our task. We're at a point in our history where only by doing everything 100 per cent right, especially making the right calls with transfers and selections, can we have any hope of finishing first.
It's not impossible I'll do it, and there's no way I'm ever going to accept defeat, but without wishing to sound negative, I have no choice but to prepare myself for the possibility it might not happen. Years ago the League was played over forty-two games and the saying went you couldn't afford to lose five matches in a season. We only lost four League games during the 2007–08 season but still fell well short of a title challenge. It's getting harder and harder.
I often ask myself how I'll look back on my career if I never win a title, and knowing the personal standards I've set I suspect I'll consider it a partial failure. That sounds incredibly harsh given the honours I have won at Anfield. Many is the time I've shared this view with my dad, only for him to put me straight. 'Behave yourself,' he'll tell me. 'Think of all you've won – the treble, Istanbul, all those Liverpool appearances and England caps. What a career.' Had I been offered all these medals at eighteen, I'd have snatched them, but there's something about thinking that way that makes me realize it's still not enough. It's as though I'm compromising my determination to keep winning trophies by accepting what I've already got. It's my nature to persistently demand more from myself and those around me. Arsène Wenger echoed my thoughts when asked if he'd feel he'd underachieved in management should he never win a European trophy. 'Even if I won one, I wouldn't feel it was enough,' he replied. I feel the same. I've spent thirteen years pursuing one League title. If I ever win it, I'll say it wasn't sufficient, I want to win it again. I'd compare my medal haul to others' and feel dissatisfied if they'd won more than me.
The trouble for those of us craving the League title is the two major obstacles in our way: Manchester United and Chelsea. How I'd love to do to United what Sir Alex Ferguson claims to have done to Liverpool – knock them off their 'fucking perch'. Ferguson announced this was his prime objective when he took over at Old Trafford in 1986 and it seemed an improbable hope at the time. Liverpool had eighteen League titles to United's seven. We also had our four European Cups to remind them how far behind they trailed. Kenny Dalglish had just won the double and was in the process of building what many argue is the greatest Liverpool side ever. Four years after Ferguson's appointment Liverpool were champions and still sitting very comfortably on their perch. In that year, 1990, it's widely assumed that had Mark Robins not kept United in the FA Cup with a winner at Nottingham Forest, the Ferguson era would have been brought to a premature end.
In the eighteen years since then, Ferguson has transformed United and they've left us behind on and off the pitch. As he celebrated winning his tenth title last May, agonizingly reducing the titles gap between United and Liverpool to one, he must have felt he was edging closer to realizing that boast of twenty-two years ago. After winning the Champions League in 2008, giving United three wins to our five, he even suggested he'd long seen off Liverpool.
Much as I respect Ferguson as a manager, I must disagree with him. He didn't knock Liverpool off their perch. Liverpool fell off it. He didn't have to lift a finger against us, let alone give us a shove. Every wound Liverpool has suffered has been selfinflicted. Ferguson's been in the privileged position since 1991 of having to do no more than walk past us once a season and kick us while we were down.
We've spent millions trying to punch back recently, but whatever we do they can retaliate by spending more. There are times I've come off the pitch at Old Trafford in the last few years and feared they didn't even have to break sweat to beat us. It's hurt going there because it's like an annual reality check. Every time we feel we've assembled a side that can compete, we're reminded what we're up against. Their size, stat
ure, reputation and consistent success mean they can attract more expensive players than us.
When Liverpool were strong, had the best manager in the country and made the right signings, the roles were reversed and United were helpless. I vividly recall Ferguson trying to sign Peter Beardsley and John Barnes in the summer of 1987, but he had no chance once Liverpool made them their top targets. Today, players of the same ilk would choose Old Trafford ahead of Anfield. It's an uncomfortable truth we have to accept. Footballers go where they're sure they'll be competing for League titles, or where their £20 million valuations can be afforded. That's a promise we haven't been able to make for ten years. Our record transfer is £21 million, but United and Chelsea can buy two players of that value each summer.
Carra: My Autobiography Page 37