Taking le Tiss

by Matt Le Tissier

  Being a manager encompasses many things. It isn’t just about coaching and one of the biggest ingredients is the ability to man-manage people and get the best out of them. You need to be able to get players to want to play for you and, as good as Glenn was as a coach, he was just as bad at man-management. Now there’s nothing wrong with being aloof, because you can still get the players’ respect, but arrogance doesn’t work. Hoddle wasn’t a particularly warm person and he never really dealt with people on a human level, whether it was players, club staff, fans or the press. I know he probably felt very bitter towards the media after the way he lost the England job but the local press in Southampton were obviously on the club’s side. Their job was to promote the team wherever possible, but he treated people as though they were inferior.

  But for all that, he certainly had a positive effect on our performances. The players’ touch got better and the training sessions definitely improved the lads’ ability on the ball. Chris Marsden developed a lot under Glenn and Dean Richards flourished. He forged a strong partnership with Claus Lundekvam and we suddenly looked a lot less vulnerable. We had picked him up on a free transfer and ended up selling him for £8m—to Glenn when he was at Spurs.

  Glenn brought a lot more professionalism and sports science to the club, particularly in terms of diet and nutrition. He sent me to see a French doctor to speak about diet. All I remember is that I was advised to eat poached eggs on toast before training. Sadly they weren’t on the menu at McDonald’s, which had become my regular stop-off in the morning. At one point we got a dietician who asked me to write down everything I ate for the next fortnight. I was too honest for my own good and wrote down everything, the burgers, the chips and the fry-ups. Her jaw hit the ground when I showed her the list. She questioned how I was still alive let alone playing at the top level. I did try the poached eggs on toast for a fortnight but it didn’t make a bit of difference, so I went back to what I liked.

  Results did improve and we saw out the rest of the campaign free from the threat of relegation for once. The last game of the season was at home to Wimbledon who needed a win to stay up, a reversal of the situation five years earlier. Glenn didn’t like the way Wimbledon played. He felt they didn’t belong in the Premier League and thought we would be doing everyone a favour if we sent them down, so we were under orders to show no compassion. I was injured but the team won 2-0 with Wayne Bridge curling home a free-kick for his first goal for the club. Wimbledon went down and have never recovered. We finished fifteenth, the same position we’d held for the final 10 games of the season. It was normal for me not to move—but not the whole team.

  19

  MATT OUT OF DELL

  ‘I ALWAYS FELT I WAS DESTINED TO SCORE THE LAST GOAL

  AT THE DELL BUT I WAS TOTALLY UNPREPARED FOR THE

  EMOTION OF THE MOMENT.’

  Glenn Hoddle’s departure was as sudden and as controversial as his arrival. And it was made worse by the fact we were doing so well at the time. It was no surprise because we always felt he was using Saints as a stepping stone, but it was still a shock when in March 2001 he left to manage Spurs. I have to be honest and say he had made us a much better side, and the whole club looked ready to step up to the next level amid the excitement of the pending move to a new ground.

  There had been talk of a new stadium ever since Southampton won the FA Cup back in 1976. There had been many false dawns, the biggest being a planned move to Stoneham—an absolutely perfect site on the outskirts of the city, right next to the airport, Parkway train station and the M27 and with enough space to park 5,000 cars. It couldn’t have been better so of course the politicians refused to grant permission. The land was controlled by two planning authorities—Southampton (Labour) and Eastleigh (LibDem)—and was owned by the County Council (Conservative). So no agreement there. Instead the new ground was situated almost right in the city centre, with hardly any parking or room for expansion. Terrific.

  No one really believed it would actually materialize until well after building work had begun. At that point we began to realize that finally we would have a ground which would enable us to compete with the bigger clubs. We had been outpunching our weight for years by staying up on crowds of just 15,000, and knew that couldn’t continue. If you keep playing Russian Roulette, sooner or later you get the bullet. The Dell was a wonderful homely ground and a big advantage to us in many ways because visiting teams hated playing there. The crowd was right on top of the pitch and the dressing rooms were cramped. By the turn of the Millennium visiting clubs were also squeezing five subs, other squad members, the coaching staff, physios, kitmen and masseurs into the tiny visitors’ dressing room which had just enough room for 11 players and a manager, with the heating stuck on high.

  As the new stadium took shape, so did the team and by March we were flying high in eighth place on the back of five successive wins. There was genuine talk of a realistic push for Europe, and that is why there was so much anger at the timing and manner of Glenn’s departure. If he’d waited until the end of the season people would have understood. The media suggested that Tottenham were prepared to wait and if Glenn had held on here until then he’d have gone with the thanks and best wishes of everyone at the club. But Spurs were in the semi-finals of the FA Cup and I think he was swayed by that. What would he have done if we’d still been in the competition?

  We had looked set to reach the quarter-finals where we had been drawn home to Liverpool who, in August, had been three up at The Dell with 15 minutes remaining only to draw 3-3 as we staged a famous fight-back. But that was eclipsed by Tranmere’s fight-back against us in the fifth round. We had drawn 0-0 at The Dell and, for once, the replay was held the following week rather than the usual 10 days later. It didn’t suit us because we had Jason Dodd and Matt Oakley injured from the first tie and Tahar El Khalej away on international duty. All of them would have been available a week later. And I was sidelined by injury, which saved me from one of the most embarrassing nights I can remember.

  The replay at Prenton Park was live on Sky, and viewers must have switched off in their thousands at half-time thinking there was no chance of an upset as we cruised to a comprehensive 3-0 lead. It looked like the game was over. Glenn even felt confident enough to take off Marian Pahars at half-time to rest him. But Tranmere had a good giant-killing record, particularly in evening matches. I watched it on TV in a bar with a few mates, and thought I was in for a good night as the drinks flowed and we took charge of the game. But it proved to be one of the great cup come-backs of all time.

  Even watching on TV I could sense the change in atmosphere when they pulled one back early in the second half. Their crowd were fired up and I could sense we were uneasy. The lads said it was even worse being there because they panicked under pressure. To add insult to injury it was our former striker Paul Rideout who scored a 21-minute hat-trick as Rovers pulled back to 3-3 with 11 minutes remaining. At that stage the only question was whether they would get a winner or whether we could hang on for extra-time, not that I fancied our chances of making it to penalties. Inevitably they scored again to complete a collapse which eclipsed anything we had previously suffered. I just put down my drink and walked out. I knew we didn’t have it in us to recover.

  I must admit I’m glad I didn’t have to travel back that night. Apparently Glenn’s face was like thunder. As the coach driver switched on the engine, the radio came on and Glenn snapped at him to turn it off. They drove to the airport in silence and, as the lights were dimmed for take-off, no one dared switch on their reading lamps, so the plane took off and landed in silence and darkness. But Glenn did get a second crack at the FA Cup with Spurs. How come managers are not cup-tied like players?

  IT WAS REALLY

  ODD THAT

  SOMEONE AS

  METICULOUS

  AND A

  CONTROLLING AS

  GLENN SHOULD

  GIVE EVERYONE

  A HOLIDAY FOR

  NO REASON.


  We then beat Everton at The Dell, and strangely enough that was also Dave Jones’ last match. And then the most bizarre thing happened. We were given a week’s holiday. In March. In all my time in the game, I never knew a manager give the squad a complete week off at any stage of the season, let alone towards the end of it. We had a two-week break for internationals, and we thought maybe we might go abroad as a squad for a bonding trip but we never expected to be given free rein. As a professional it was very rare to get two consecutive days off during the season let alone a full week, so we should have guessed that something wasn’t quite right. It was really odd that someone as meticulous and as controlling as Glenn should give everyone a holiday for no reason.

  Almost as soon as we reported back, Spurs put in a request to speak to Glenn, who said he wanted to go. It caused a lot of bitterness between the clubs with Rupert Lowe expressing surprise at the speed with which negotiations were concluded, from what was supposed to be a standing start. I felt Glenn owed it to us to stay until the end of the season after we had given him a route back into the game when no other club would touch him. If he’d done it properly then there is no question he’d have got the Southampton job again when Gordon Strachan left a few years later.

  Results dipped after he left. Before his departure we had won five in a row and lost only one in 11, and that was away to Liverpool. Glenn was replaced by our first-team coach Stuart Gray, who was put in temporary charge until the end of the season. I liked Stuart. He was an excellent coach and good with the lads. He was able to mix easily with the players, and was a good link between them and the manager. That was his niche and he was very good at it, but that probably made it difficult for him to become Number One. It would have been easier for him to become a manager at another club where he would have walked in as the gaffer and been in charge right from the start. It is much harder to go from being the players’ friend to their manager.

  Football is littered with similar appointments where clubs take the cheap option and promote the first-team coach. You only need to look at England replacing Sven Goran Eriksson with Steve McClaren. Bolton did it with Sammy Lee, and the only time it really worked was when Liverpool promoted Bob Paisley. I don’t think clubs really take into consideration the authority a manager needs. Saints had tried this previously with Dave Merrington and again later with Steve Wigley. You’d think they would have learned.

  A manager needs to generate a certain amount of fear. Players have to be slightly in awe of him, but we still called him Stuart rather than ‘gaffer’. It didn’t really work and the results weren’t good. We lost five and drew two of the next seven, and there didn’t seem to be any way Stuart would get the job full-time, but the board were probably swayed by the wave of emotion as the season reached an unforgettable climax.

  We beat an under-strength Manchester United 2-1 and then came the long-awaited last ever league game at The Dell against Arsenal. And I will be eternally grateful to Stuart for showing there is still room for sentiment in football by naming both me and Francis Benali on the bench for a match which meant so much to both of us. I had missed the United game through injury but I had recovered by the Tuesday. I wasn’t fit enough to play 90 minutes but Stuart told me I would be on the bench with Franny, and promised that we would both be on the field when the final whistle blew. It was great of him to do that and to let me know because I stopped worrying about it. I had spent my whole career at The Dell and it would have been heart-breaking if I had missed that last match. And it was nice to be alongside Franny on the bench. We had shared so many special moments down the years and for us both to get on was special.

  There was a lot of excitement around the city that week, and tickets were like gold dust because everyone wanted to be there. I spent most of the week imagining that I would get the winning goal. I honestly believed that that was my destiny. And the game was perfectly poised when I came on with about 15 minutes to go. Arsenal were going to finish second whatever happened at The Dell, but they were definitely not taking it easy and twice took the lead. Each time it was cancelled out by Hassan Kachloul who scored two on the opening day of the season and two on the last day, with none in between.

  Arsenal didn’t want to lose, that’s for sure, and they were actually pushing for a winner when Stuart sent me on. He told me just to enjoy it. I was really relaxed and had a few good touches as the game seemed to be petering to a draw. Unusually, James Beattie was playing on the right—and Stuart left him there and put me up front with Marian Pahars so that if anything dropped there was a good chance it would fall to me. It was tactical genius. With a minute to go Beatts flicked on a Paul Jones clearance, and Martin Keown half cleared. The ball dropped just behind me on my left foot and it was quite a difficult chance, made harder by the fact Chris Marsden was coming in trying to take it off my toe. Even with my left foot I had more chance of scoring than he did. And with little time left there was no way I was going to let him have it.

  As soon as the ball left my foot I knew it was going in. Alex Manninger had no chance—and the explosion of noise was incredible. Even now it sends a great shiver down the spine. I knew what it meant to everyone, not just me. I heard afterwards that even hardened newspaper hacks who thought they had seen everything were struggling to dictate their copy with voices breaking up through the surge of emotion. Many said they found it hard to find the words to describe the enormity of the moment. It was amazing.

  Everyone had been willing me to score the last goal at The Dell, although Chris Marsden again tried to spoil it with a 20-yard shot in injury-time. If that had gone in I’d never have forgiven him, but Alex Manninger tipped it over and I almost joined in the congratulations. I would have tipped it over myself if I could have done. The atmosphere was electric as the final whistle blew. The fact that I had scored the last goal and that it was the winner made it an afternoon which no one there will ever forget. The Dell held 15,200 but I swear there were twice as many in the ground judging by the number of people who have since come up to me and told me that they were there. I know a lot of people without tickets stood outside just to be part of it, and they managed to get in when the gates opened 10 minutes from time. There were so many lovely stories to come out of that day. Hampshire Cricket Club had a home match and apparently there was a big cheer there when they announced the score and the scorer.

  As luck would have it, I had agreed a new contract the previous week. At the final whistle the players were presented with commemorative silver salvers by the chairman. As Rupert Lowe gave me mine I told him he was lucky because if I’d waited another week to negotiate my contract I’d have been in a much stronger position. My goal lifted the club a couple of places up the league so that we finished tenth instead of twelfth, getting half a million pounds in prize money. My goal more than easily paid for my new contract. And finishing in the top half also triggered a bonus in some players’ contracts, including Claus Lundekvam who made several thousand pounds. When I got up the next day there was a crate of 12 bottles of Malibu and 24 bottles of Coke on my doorstep from him as a thank you.

  It took a while to come down from that incredible high—and from the post-match celebrations. My son Mitchell had come over from Guernsey for the game with my parents which made it hard to go out to celebrate so we stayed in. At 10.30pm there was a knock on the door and Hampshire Cricket Club chairman Rod Bransgrove turned up with the Hampshire team. The neighbours didn’t get much sleep that night but I think they could forgive me after the day we’d had. I was on a high for much of the summer and wore out the video recorder replaying the goal, and hoped that’d be the turning point for me from the niggling injuries I was starting to pick up. But it did not work out like that.

  20

  END OF THE ROAD

  ‘I SAT IN THE DRESSING ROOM AND CRIED AS THE

  REALIZATION HIT ME THAT IT WAS ALL OVER.’

  I didn’t have my testimonial at The Dell because I had been promised the first match at the new stadium, St
. Mary’s. But, as the ground took shape, it became increasingly difficult to get the club to commit to a date. In the end it was decided that I could not have the first game—which would have been madness—because the stadium needed a trial run without a full house. My testimonial was put back to the end of the season and, as things turned out, I was delighted. I’m a big believer in fate and it turned out to be the last game of my career, which made it all the more special.

  On the Wednesday before the new season started, I pulled a calf muscle in training—it was the first of five separate calf strains that season which made it a nightmare. I made only one appearance as sub at St Mary’s and three away from home, and not one single start. I felt even more frustrated when the team made the usual crap start to the campaign. We struggled at the new stadium. The crowd had been close to the pitch at The Dell which gave us a big advantage, but it took us a while to adapt to the new atmosphere.

  Stuart Gray had got the manager’s job full-time. Rupert Lowe made ‘no apologies for giving a bright young English coach a chance’, but his track record as caretaker wasn’t brilliant. It was clear he was struggling and, in October 2001, we went to West Ham who were also having a bad time. Gordon Strachan was spotted in the crowd and everyone assumed he was being lined up to take over as the Hammers’ new manager. But they won 2-0 and the following day he was our new boss.

  It’s fair to say he wasn’t everyone’s choice. He’d been sacked by Coventry that summer but he was the best appointment Rupert ever made. Gordon was short and ginger, just like Alan Ball, and I reckoned we only got him because we had a lot of leftover ‘GS’ (Graeme Souness) tracksuit tops.