I honestly believe that in the next 20 years, an Asian country like India will be taking over football – just wait and see. I always believe in looking ahead, and in the future you will see Indians playing in the Premier League. They will also be running the Premier League too, because there are more billionaires there than anywhere else in the world. I think it’s only a matter of time. China may yet emerge as a football superpower too. It’s a myth in England that people in China are small – are they hell! The goalkeeper is six foot six and they are a big solid side. People underestimate Asian football at their peril. After the rubbish I watched from England at the World Cup in South Africa I have to say that India, Saudi Arabia and India would all give them a game.
These teams are to be particularly feared in their home stadiums – some of those grounds are frightening and volatile, to the extent that not only are you worrying about your safety, you’re actually worrying about your life. Once you’ve been to the Azadi Stadium in Tehran in front of 120,000 fanatical supporters, anywhere else would be a walk in the park. I bet you Iran would beat England if they played them in the Azadi. People talk about Barcelona and Real Madrid being hostile places to go – you come to the Azadi and you’ll find out what hostile really means. You wouldn’t be able to see your hand in front of your face for the smoke and firecrackers.
It bugs me all the media hype about players like John Terry, who to me is nothing better than average. I’ve played with far better players than Terry. People should take a break from all the hype surrounding the Premier League and think more about what the rest of the world has to offer. There are a lot of players here in Asia who could very easily play in the Premier League, they just need to be discovered and given the chance. I brought over Ali Al-Habsi but there are countless more players in Asia that could make the grade.
I’m trying to bring the Middle East to the forefront of people’s minds. People think they all drive around in luxury cars, that’s rubbish, there are some tough areas too – and as we know from the success of Brazil and Argentina, that’s often where you discover the best players because they are born with that gene that enables them to show the desire and hunger to fight their way to the top.
Sadly, my dream job with Oman was taken away from me by the national FA in January 2011. I’m still bitter about it, because I’ve done a hell of a lot for football in the country and they’ve sacked me for mistakes made by someone else. Claude Le Roy was the coach, and because they wanted him to go, they decided they wanted rid of everyone to do with him. It was harsh on him, too, because he won Oman the Gulf Cup in 2009, beating a lot of bigger nations along the way. That raised the bar, I suppose, and when we failed to qualify for the Asian Cup in 2011, they felt the team was underachieving. Oman are ambitious, and I can’t fault them for that, but I do feel that they overreacted by giving us all the boot.
An interview I gave to Gulf News in September 2010, in which I called for backroom teams to be kept on and not be made to carry the can for the head coach, unfortunately fell on deaf ears. I said: ‘If you have a good doctor, physio, coach or masseur – keep him – sack the head coach. Hire and fire independently. Then when it comes to appointments, a coach should only bring his own assistants. Other than that, the backroom staff should remain. Fitness coaches, goalkeeping coaches and assistants do most of the work in training – but they’re losing their jobs because the head coach isn’t up to it when it comes to matches.
‘When a coach brings in his own people some of them are pizza delivery men who are brought in to keep the coach company with cups of coffee down the mall while they wait for training – staff and coach shouldn’t be friends, they should just be good at their jobs. They’re laughing all the way to the bank, taking clubs to the cleaners, walking out with big compensation packages, and I doubt the majority could produce professional coaching licences if asked.’
Sadly, Oman didn’t see it that way, and because Claude was sacked, we all got punished, regardless of the service we had given to the FA and what we could still offer the country. It’s so short-sighted. Gulf News phoned me after the sackings and I told them: ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. In fact I’ve done more than anyone else in the Gulf; I’ve produced a phenomenon that’s bigger than a Gulf Cup win. I’m very disappointed to have done so much for Oman, only to be treated in such a manner. I’m down in the dumps.’
I’m not down in the dumps now, though – life goes on, eh?
Football in the Middle East will come under the spotlight more and more in the next decade following FIFA’s decision to give Qatar the 2022 World Cup, but to be brutally honest I think it’s a disgrace to have it there. Qatar may be filthy rich, but at the moment the place is like a village. Having Zinedine Zidane to front the bid obviously helped their cause, but it just doesn’t seem right to have it there. If it’s held at the height of summertime, they would have to stage it indoors, in fully air-conditioned stadiums. They would have to build eight 60,000-seater stadiums. There is enough money to do that in Qatar, but it would be a massive break from tradition. The sensible option, if they insist on playing it there, is to move the World Cup to the winter.
I actually met the president of FIFA, Sepp Blatter, for the first time not long after Qatar won their World Cup bid. He had come to the Gulf to do some schmoozing, and visited Oman. He was touring our stadium and he saw that I had ‘JB’ on my Omani training kit. He looked me up and down and pointed to my initials, and said: ‘JB? Joseph Blatter?’ I replied: ‘Ha-ha, pleased to meet you. My name is Bond…James Bond!’
I daresay Qatar will deliver the World Cup, because the country is so rich it’s unbelievable. They already have brilliant indoor football fields, although to build enough stadiums to properly host a World Cup is a different matter. Their training ground reeks of money. Manchester United’s training ground at Carrington is the best I have seen, but the one they have built in Qatar makes United’s look old-fashioned!
Qatar may be ready for 2022, because of the money they have to prop up their bid, but I’m still scratching my head in disbelief that the biggest sporting event on the planet is heading there – it is such a small country. The capital, Doha, is the size of a small Scottish city, so it’s basically like holding a world cup in Motherwell or Aberdeen! What I think they should have done is have one stadium here in Oman, one in Bahrain, one in UAE, Abu Dhabi and Dubai and make it a Gulf World Cup, but then I suppose you would be creating a new problem because the hosts usually qualify automatically. The bottom line is it’s just too hot in the summer here. People would get sunstroke – the players and supporters. It’s the desert, for God’s sake. The best thing to do would be to share it around and hold the World Cup around Christmas time. It would be perfect conditions.
So, I don’t necessarily agree with them holding it in Qatar, but the good thing is it will put the Gulf and football here firmly on the map. I hope to be there of course, and if the British teams happen to be there, be sure to look me up. I’ll be the good-looking one that’s still chirping away like a Budgie…
CHAPTER 28
HOW OTHERS SEE ME
‘I’m dreading the day he has to pack it all up – I think he’d sooner have his heart taken out.’
JANET BURRIDGE
Over the years, my eccentricities and behaviour have generated a few thousand column inches in newspapers, magazines, fanzines, football programmes and autobiographies. Some of them sound a bit too crazy to be true – but believe me they are! I’ve also been touched to read some of the tributes and fans’ memories that are floating around cyberspace on the net, and I am proud that a Facebook page has been set up by fans in my honour. Everyone seems to have their say about me, and here’s a selection of my favourites from over the years…
JANET BURRIDGE
(Interviewed towards end of Budgie’s playing career, 1997)
He twitches, fidgets and relives every moment of a game. He grabs at imaginary shots, sets himself ready to spring for a corner ball and yells warnin
gs to defenders. I’m used to it. He’s just so energised when he’s watching or replaying a game in his mind’s eye, he just can’t keep still. He was watching a match in bed one night. I’d fallen asleep as I was dead tired after a day in our sportswear shop. But he woke me, made me sit up and was shouting: ‘Watch this! Look at the keeper, he’s sold himself. Sold, sold, sold himself! What do you think of that?’ He made me watch the slow motions three times until I said I knew what he was talking about. I didn’t really, but it kept him quiet.
Once when we were sleeping, he hit me with his elbow. And when I woke him up he couldn’t believe it. He said he was going up for a ball – at least that was his excuse. I’m dreading the day he has to pack it all up – I think he’d sooner have his heart taken out.
When he plays he has terribly desolate moments, even if his side has won 5-1. The fact that he has let in even one goal leaves him devastated. If he’s made just one mistake, he is inconsolable. But whatever happens, he is either going through the game in his sleep, pushing shots over the bar and waving his arms about, or sitting bolt upright saying to me: ‘It’s all right, love, someone just hit a tremendous shot at me.’
Even when he’s watching a game on telly, his body starts to sway and his eyes are elsewhere, in a penalty area somewhere, and we can see his fingers getting ready to grab a shot. He ends up in a hell of a state. I’ve even heard him give an interview to BBC television in his sleep. But he’s such a No.1 optimist he just got himself all fired up again and bounced back – mostly in his sleep, of course.
(Interviewed in 2011)
Coming to the end of his playing career was an event so devastating to John that it is hard for many to comprehend. Once he started to cope a little with not crossing that white line at 3pm on a Saturday afternoon, he knew he still had his physical fitness, which he worked on meticulously ‘just in case he was needed in the Premier League’. But then the accident that would have killed most people took that away too.
His zest for the game has never wavered, whether it is a park game or a cup final. Wearing gloves to watch a game on TV was his way of living through the game as if he was in goal. He would wear his boots to make sure they were match fit and totally comfortable, like a second skin. He would say ‘Fail to prepare, prepare to fail’. The equipment he took with him onto the pitch was cared for with the utmost reverence – I wouldn’t dream of going near his kit! It never went into the team kit skips, nor was it ever left at the ground. Throughout my 40 years of knowing John I have heard others say that different players are dedicated, but let me tell you, not one has ever come anywhere close to John. He lived football 100% of the time and that has never changed.
His love for the game is infectious. When we moved to Oman he realised a dream, that of playing beach football every evening just like on the Copa Cabana. I remember the first night he went down to play he was like a little boy, wondering if he could get a game! After a week he was upgraded to another team, then after a while he came home with the biggest grin on his face telling me he had been first pick! For a beach game! Whichever team John played on (strangely enough he never played in goal) would win. He used to go down to the beach an hour or so before the game to prepare the ‘pitch’, even having special goals hand made. Yes, I am talking about a 50-year-old who played over 1000 top-flight games. I could go on forever!
STEVE HARPER
(Newcastle United goalkeeper, 1993–present)
If you are not brave then you cannot play in goal. It is all part of the job. I can remember on my first day as a professional in 1993 John Burridge screaming at me, saying I had to taste blood running down my neck. Budgie was a cracker who used to encourage forwards to go in on our keepers, but he was a huge influence on my career in my first two years.
TIM FLOWERS
(Team-mate at Wolves and Southampton)
Enjoying football, whatever the result, and having a rapport with the fans, are two of the many things I learned from Budgie. My style is totally different to Budgie’s because I’m a different shape and a different person. But when we were at Wolves together and again at Southampton he always put in 100 per cent, which is what I try to do.
ALAN SHEARER
(Team-mate at Southampton)
I often used to join Budgie and a few others in small-sided matches after regular training. On one occasion I chased a through ball and he went down at my feet, so I jumped over him to avoid a nasty collision. Budgie stood up, stopped the game and said: ‘Look, son, when a goalkeeper dives at your feet he expects you to clatter him. Don’t disappoint him.’ I got the message straight away. It was John’s way of suggesting I had to develop a ruthless streak. A few years later in a friendly match between Southampton and Falkirk, Budgie was in goal for the Scottish club. During the game he threw himself at my feet to smother the ball, I followed through, caught him on the head and split it open, leaving a wound which required three stitches. Budgie wiped away the blood and came over to me. I was half expecting him to have a go at me, but he patted me on the head and said: ‘Well done, son, I’m proud of you.’
NIGEL MARTYN
(Protégé at Leeds United)
Budgie has helped improve every aspect of my game. He’s very passionate about football. The word mad comes to mind. But he comes to see me at Leeds from Blyth, and gives me the intensive work I need. And if I do well on a Saturday, he’ll ring me up that night and tell me. If things go wrong, I’d rather discuss things with him than go away on my own.
ALI AL-HABSI
(First Oman player to play in the English Premier League, with Bolton and Wigan)
Budgie came to England with me, because I was a 17-year-old from a village team and everything was so new for me. No one imagined a Middle East footballer would ever play in the Premier League. Like many other players I had dreamed of that, but never believed it would come true. While I was here Budgie took me to Old Trafford, and he could see I was wide-eyed and overawed by being there. He said: ‘If you work hard and fulfil your potential you will play here one day.’ But when it actually happened, I could still hardly believe it. If it wasn’t for John’s help and what he taught me about goalkeeping, the dream wouldn’t have come true.
ASHLEY HAMMOND
(Local reporter, friend and failed Budgie agent, Oman and UAE 2006–2011)
To me, Budgie was just a face on the back of one of my football cards and a passing reference in various players’ memoirs as the fruit-loop that walked on his hands, wore gloves to bed and got his wife to throw oranges around the room at him. When I met him in one of my first assignments as a young reporter in Muscat, Oman, working on a local paper there in 2006, he was to instantly mean much more than that – not a day has passed since where I haven’t had at least ten missed calls from him before seven in the morning. He affectionately dubbed me ‘Harry Harris’ or ‘Clark Kent, the mild-mannered reporter’.
One image of Budgie that still plagues me was when we travelled from Muscat to London to watch Ali Al-Habsi make his Bolton debut in the League Cup against Fulham, a game the Wanderers won 2-1. Ali had played a blinder and afterwards John and myself ran to the bottom right of the Putney End to congratulate Ali. John had tears rolling down his face and was attempting to jump the barrier, shouting, voice croaking, ‘That’s my boy, that’s my boy,’ as he was held back by stewards. Ali walked into the Cottage oblivious – just out of earshot to Budgie being apprehended by the orange army. That, for me, typified the sort of thankless situation Budgie often found himself in. He still looked a prat even in that poignant memory, though, with a fluffy Biggles leather aviator’s hat and goggles on with floppy dog ears covering his lugs.
DAVID HARDIE
(Hibs football writer, Edinburgh Evening News)
Budgie probably embodied the saying that to be a goalkeeper you also need to be a bit mad. Eccentric without doubt, a character both on and off the field but also an exceptional goalkeeper, one who enjoyed a lengthy and varied career thanks not only to his undoubted
ability between the sticks but his slavish attention to fitness.
He may have drawn more than a few laughs from his team-mates when he’d roll up for training at Wardie on that tiny moped on which he completed the final couple of miles from his home in the north of England after arriving by train at Waverley each day, but once the gloves were on it was down to business as the young goalkeepers at Easter Road at the time soon realised.
Chris Reid, Stephen Woods and Jason Gardiner, who were all born AFTER Budgie had made his League debut for Newport County in 1969, presented him with a cake to mark his 40th birthday a few months after he’d helped Hibs lift the Skol Cup, all three admitting they were left simply in awe of the punishing workout he’d put himself through before returning home for another 90 minutes in the gym.
Like any goalkeeper Budgie was strong-willed and determined with an unshakeable belief in his own ability, once famously claiming: ‘Peter Shilton? I wouldn’t let him keep my pigeons.’
DAVID HARRISON
(Writing in Wolves’ matchday magazine)
I was a frequent visitor to the Burridge household when he was a Wolves player from 1982–84. ‘Just pop round for a chat and a bit to eat’ was the regular invite. The evenings were never dull. Tales of Budgie’s madcap methods were already legendary. I was once told that when he was at Aston Villa his neighbours were alarmed one night when they heard a constant thumping noise from next door. On further examination, they found Budgie jumping from his garage roof. He was working on his agility and landing techniques.
If you get the impression that he was slightly eccentric, you are wrong. He was mad. Barking mad.
But he was also a consummate professional. There was method in his madness. He maintained the highest level of fitness of any footballer I have known. To have played for 29 clubs in 771 games over a period of 30 years he must have been doing something right.
Budgie - The Autobiography Page 21