No Nonsense
Page 29
It is important to have as broad a view as possible on people, ideas, cultures and philosophies. Reach your own conclusions, by all means, but at least make an attempt to see my world through my eyes. Consider what I’ve experienced, what I’ve come through. I’ve never lived in a bubble of entitlement. I know how to climb Everest. I know the good routes to the summit. I’ve so much knowledge to share.
I have made as many fuck-ups as anyone is going to make, but I’ve never robbed anyone. I have caused harm and disruption, but I’ve never set out intentionally to wrong someone. I am not a liar. You could probably argue that such reasoning is me trying to seek some kind of morality in my conduct, but I have principles I hold dear.
Integrity is high on my list of non-negotiables. I live in a world in which strangers pass judgement on me. If they are casting stones they should expect to have their glass houses examined. I may be a bit of a cunt in their eyes, but what about the way they live their life? Does that stand up to deeper scrutiny?
The unadulterated, unconditional love I had for football as a kid is difficult to sustain. That’s understandable because the criticism is monotonous. People judge you personally and professionally. They can’t wait to put you down, to drag you off to the knacker’s yard like a circus animal that has outlived its usefulness.
I have fallen back in love with football with my eyes wide open. I’m aware of the pitfalls, conscious that, by acting the goat on Twitter and trying to fight everyone, I was drawing attention to everything I hated about the game. The easiest thing in the world is to chuck bombs. I enjoy being on the edge, but I am concentrating on being constructive.
I’d like to say I’ve been scarred by the way the media has dealt with me, because playing the victim sometimes softens the blow. But there has been no way to judge some of my actions, other than harshly. I made a decision to take the law into my own hands, and have lived with the consequences.
For some people anything I do, to acknowledge or act upon past wrongs, will never be enough. I have come to terms with that. Instead of provocatively playing up to the caricature, I’m in the process of making an honest attempt to change things for the better. I go out with the best of intentions, but can offer no guarantees I will never make another bad decision, or another silly mistake.
Human nature being what it is, I’m vulnerable to criticism. By openly discussing my ambitions, I am leaving myself open to accusations that I’ve got ideas above my station. By talking about social injustice or political philosophy, I am in danger of being labelled a prat with a platform. I’m big enough to take that, as well.
Why shouldn’t I have a view on the European referendum (I was in favour of the UK staying in the EU) or the prospect of Donald Trump becoming US president (be afraid, people, very afraid)? What is wrong with seeking to raise awareness of issues that will impact on the lives of millions?
When you think about it, it is completely illogical that in the 21st century, homophobia in football remains a live issue. Other sports and sporting institutions have had the maturity to celebrate our differences, but sexuality in football still causes the collective pulse to skip a beat. I am a huge supporter of Stonewall, the equality charity, and their Rainbow Laces campaign, but the game must be more proactive in prising open closed minds. Independent voices have never been more important in an age in which the Orlando massacre, of 50 people at the Pulse gay nightclub on 11 June 2016, provided horrific proof of the dangers of ignorance and intolerance.
Our mass media is filtered and managed by corporate lobbyists and political lackeys. Supposed newspapers of record are distorted by the commercial priorities and cultural bias of their owners. I sense we are moving towards a financially motivated US-style system, where corporations are allowed to indulge a vested interest by influencing legislation.
I’ve been to jail, and lots of people still don’t want to forgive. What more can I do than try to turn my life around and make a positive contribution? Am I fallible? Of course. Am I proud of what I have the potential to become? You bet. This may sound mad, but I fully believe I can help to change lives through football.
I went through a stage where my life went haywire. I have been saved by the love of good people, Blackie, Georgia, Nan and Tagger. All I want is for my kids to be happy and healthy. If Cassius wants to be a footballer or fly rockets, I’ll do everything I can to help him. If Pieta wants to be a tap dancer or a lion tamer, I’ll do everything I can to help her, too.
I’m also determined to like myself. I’m the only person I spend 24 hours a day with, 365 days a year. If I dislike myself when I put my head on the pillow each night, I am doomed to a horrible, painful existence. I have to tap into what makes me happy. That’s not a new shirt, a shinier Rolex, or a cherry red Ferrari. It is simple things, like tickling my kids so I can hear them laugh.
I’ll go and sit on my own. I like reading, thinking. Walking the dog is a good excuse to be alone, and I’m quite content to be in my own space. Football makes me happy these days. I feel so fortunate to have my job. Bonkers, when you consider I spent so many years trying to get away from the supposed pressures by drinking and behaving erratically.
I have no idea whether my sense of optimism and excitement will last. My study of philosophy, which has evolved from a conventional process of education into a more informal search for insight, has taught me that none of us knows everything about anything. If I could travel back in time and change certain things I would do so in a heartbeat. But I can’t.
All I can do is change my world for the better, one day at a time.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. My debut. With Mum in Whiston Hospital, 2 September 1982.
2. Picture of innocence? First day at school.
3. Beach Boy. Note the England football shorts.
4. My first Communion. One of Nan’s happiest days.
5. In the garden with my dad, my hero.
6. On holiday with Mum.
7. Living legacy, with my nan, Julia, and grandad, Peter.
8. With Dad at Wembley after Warrington Town got to the final of the FA Vase.
9. Showing off some early medals.
10. Cousin Josh and I meet Gary Speed at Everton.
11. The stuff of dreams. Signing schoolboy forms for Everton, with Dad watching on.
12. The Everton youth team. I’m second from the right on the front row, with my friend Bradley Orr to my left. Like me, Phil Jagielka, second from left at the back, was released.
13. No one was robbing this shirt, following my nightmare at the Riverside. My first team debut at Bolton on 5 April 2003.
14. Portrait of the artist as a young man. I scored my first senior goal in this game, at Spurs.
15. The Guvnors. Kevin Keegan is the only man I’ve met who loves football more than me. Arthur Cox, an old-school shirt-and-tie man, didn’t miss a thing.
16. Don’t take liberties. A full and frank exchange of views during a pre-season friendly against Doncaster Rovers. Hooked at half time, I fell out spectacularly with my manager.
17. Celebrating with Robbie Fowler. Liverpool fans called him God; I knew him as Bob.
18. Playing in the Premier League Asia Trophy before the bar brawl which led to me being sent home from Thailand. The nightmare had only just begun.
19. Family: My brother Andrew is my best friend. Peter Kay saved me from myself on more than one occasion.
20. I went on to celebrate a last-gasp Man City equaliser at Goodison in February 2006 by baring my backside to the Everton fans who had goaded me. Cue yet another superficial controversy.
21. Arriving for my court hearing, following the training-ground incident with Ousmane Dabo. I was on crutches after fracturing a metatarsal.
22. Called up for England, at last. Training with my fellow authors, Steven Gerrard and Frank Lampard.
23. A cameo role, and a cap. Pressurising Andres Iniesta during my one England appearance, a 1-0 Spain win he regarded as the start of a three-year journey t
o winning the World Cup in 2010.
24. Sam Allardyce sold me the spirit of Newcastle United in June 2007. I’d love to go back there, perhaps as a coach, in the future.
25. Dark days. Released on bail from Walton jail, where my survival instincts kicked in.
26. Paying due respect to the Newcastle fans after my first game on bail, a 3-0 loss at Arsenal.
27. The moment every footballer fears. I’ve suffered the medial knee ligament injury, in November 2008, which ruined my season.
28. I saw my chance to even the score with Xabi Alonso, then saw red. My sending off at Anfield let down my team-mates, but Alan Shearer, a rookie manager, let himself down.
29. The Toon Army celebrate promotion by carrying us around the pitch at Plymouth. One of the most surreal and satisfying nights of my career.
30. Another manufactured controversy, this time involving Fernando Torres, was an early test of my relationship with Alan Pardew. I didn’t want him to get the Newcastle job, but he proved to be one of my better managers.
31. Neil Warnock – in charge when I moved to Queens Park Rangers, but not for long.
32. Meltdown at Manchester City on the final day of the 2011-12 season. Don’t be fooled – I was under complete control.
33. Getting up the nose of Zlatan Ibrahimovic during my time at L’Olympique de Marseille, a great club which provided me with a fantastic football education.
34. A Kaizen moment with Blackie. A unique, very special man who inspires me to continually improve
35. Not quite on the shoulders of giants, but we helped QPR owner Tony Fernandes out of a hole by winning the 2014 Championship play-off.
36. We believed at Burnley. This goal, against local rivals Preston, was particularly sweet.
37. The sort of picture that becomes a family heirloom. I hope Cassius will remember the day his dad won promotion, in the years to come.
38. Rangers had me at hello. What an institution. Celebrating my move to Ibrox with Bradley Orr, Eddy Jennings and Cassius.
39. Smiley, happy people. At Glastonbury with Georgia.
40. Pre-season training complete, a final chance to hit the pause button in the beautiful setting of Loch Lomond.
41. Inside my bubble of strength: a family holiday in Quinta de Lago in Portugal.
1. My debut. With Mum in Whiston Hospital, 2 September 1982.
2. Picture of innocence? First day at school.
3. Beach Boy. Note the England football shorts.
4. My first Communion. One of Nan’s happiest days.
5. In the garden with my dad, my hero.
6. On holiday with Mum.
7. Living legacy, with my nan, Julia, and grandad, Peter.
8. With Dad at Wembley after Warrington Town got to the final of the FA Vase.
9. Showing off some early medals.
10. Cousin Josh and I meet Gary Speed at Everton.
11. The stuff of dreams. Signing schoolboy forms for Everton, with Dad watching on.
12. The Everton youth team. I’m second from the right on the front row, with my friend Bradley Orr to my left. Like me, Phil Jagielka, second from left at the back, was released.
13. No one was robbing this shirt, following my nightmare at the Riverside. My first team debut at Bolton on 5 April 2003.
14. Portrait of the artist as a young man. I scored my first senior goal in this game, at Spurs.
15. The Guvnors. Kevin Keegan is the only man I’ve met who loves football more than me. Arthur Cox, an old-school shirt-and-tie man, didn’t miss a thing.
16. Don’t take liberties. A full and frank exchange of views during a pre-season friendly against Doncaster Rovers. Hooked at half time, I fell out spectacularly with my manager.
17. Celebrating with Robbie Fowler. Liverpool fans called him God; I knew him as Bob.
18. Playing in the Premier League Asia Trophy before the bar brawl which led to me being sent home from Thailand. The nightmare had only just begun.
19. Family: My brother Andrew is my best friend. Peter Kay saved me from myself on more than one occasion.
20. I went on to celebrate a last-gasp Man City equaliser at Goodison in February 2006 by baring my backside to the Everton fans who had goaded me. Cue yet another superficial controversy.
21. Arriving for my court hearing, following the training-ground incident with Ousmane Dabo. I was on crutches after fracturing a metatarsal.
22. Called up for England, at last. Training with my fellow authors, Steven Gerrard and Frank Lampard.
23. A cameo role, and a cap. Pressurising Andres Iniesta during my one England appearance, a 1-0 Spain win he regarded as the start of a three-year journey to winning the World Cup in 2010.
24. Sam Allardyce sold me the spirit of Newcastle United in June 2007. I’d love to go back there, perhaps as a coach, in the future.
25. Dark days. Released on bail from Walton jail, where my survival instincts kicked in.
26. Paying due respect to the Newcastle fans after my first game on bail, a 3-0 loss at Arsenal.
27. The moment every footballer fears. I’ve suffered the medial knee ligament injury, in November 2008, which ruined my season.
28. I saw my chance to even the score with Xabi Alonso, then saw red. My sending off at Anfield let down my team-mates, but Alan Shearer, a rookie manager, let himself down.
29. The Toon Army celebrate promotion by carrying us around the pitch at Plymouth. One of the most surreal and satisfying nights of my career.
30. Another manufactured controversy, this time involving Fernando Torres, was an early test of my relationship with Alan Pardew. I didn’t want him to get the Newcastle job, but he proved to be one of my better managers.
31. Neil Warnock – in charge when I moved to Queens Park Rangers, but not for long.
32. Meltdown at Manchester City on the final day of the 2011-12 season. Don’t be fooled – I was under complete control.
33. Getting up the nose of Zlatan Ibrahimovic during my time at L’Olympique de Marseille, a great club which provided me with a fantastic football education.
34. A Kaizen moment with Blackie. A unique, very special man who inspires me to continually improve
35. Not quite on the shoulders of giants, but we helped QPR owner Tony Fernandes out of a hole by winning the 2014 Championship play-off.
36. We believed at Burnley. This goal, against local rivals Preston, was particularly sweet.
37. The sort of picture that becomes a family heirloom. I hope Cassius will remember the day his dad won promotion, in the years to come.
38. Rangers had me at hello. What an institution. Celebrating my move to Ibrox with Bradley Orr, Eddy Jennings and Cassius.
39. Smiley, happy people. At Glastonbury with Georgia.
40. Pre-season training complete, a final chance to hit the pause button in the beautiful setting of Loch Lomond.
41. Inside my bubble of strength: a family holiday in Quinta de Lago in Portugal.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Well, where do you start? I suppose I better start with my parents, because without their love for one another at a point in their lives I simply wouldn’t be here. My dad was, is and will always be my hero. To my brothers, Andrew, Michael, Josh, Connor, Noah. And sisters Sharon, Joanne, Molly, Nadine and Kirsty. To Julie and John, Peter, Paul and Tom. Love you all.
To all my nieces and nephews. To Andrew, whom I am fortunate enough to consider my brother and best friend. To my grandparents, especially my grandmother Julia who gave me unlimited love, guidance, belief and support when I needed it the most. Also, a stubbornness and confidence in myself as a person.
To Georgia. My love for her strengthens with each passing day. She came along and showed me a love and a patience one could only dream of before.
To Peter, who helped me better understand my journey in this life. Without him I would never have fulfilled my potential as a human. To Blackie, the Zen master, Yoda to my Luke Skywalker. I share with him a sense of kinship
and love of knowledge, along with a great friendship which knows no boundaries. People keep asking me what Blackie does. It’s hard to explain. He is unique in every way. One thing Steve always does is make things better.
To all our friends, we love you all, especially the Glastonbury gang. To Raj, Charlie and family, and my class at Roehampton Uni. I hope you have those degrees and are striding on in life, philosophising! To David and Mel who started this book’s journey so, so long ago. (We finally did it!)
To the ghost writer, Michael Calvin, who took great time and care to get this book right. He committed himself to me and I hope you find this book as enjoyable to read as we did putting it together. To all the team at Simon & Schuster for their belief and hard work behind the scenes. To Dan Bosomworth and the gang at First10 Digital.