Tuesday 28 September 2010

Re-visiting Bolton, 2009 (pre-match grub)

August bank holiday weekend. The morning after an evening that would have made the cheeks of even Shandy Van der Meyde turn an embarrassed shade of pink.
Herds of giant wildebeest-like shapes are grazing in the Lancashire countryside as we approach the outskirts of Westhaughton. Maybe it’s just the locals. Franny Lee was born here.
Fifteen minutes later it’s half a beast of alleged pig in sausage form surfing across the grease on the Sam Allardyce sized hostess trey in front of me. Ten of them.
It’s not the bangers that worry me, though. It’s the ten pieces of toast. Buttered with Stork. Accompanied by ten eggs, as many rashes of bacon, five black puddings, fried mushrooms and a red ocean of beans – this dubious feast deserves its title as the largest commercially available English breakfast, according to Guinness World Records.
At 5000 calories per serving - twice the daily-recommended intake for a man - it is probably the unhealthiest menu on the planet. It also comes without a cup of tea, coffee or any other drink and must be consumed within 20 minutes. My mouth feels as dry as a desert nomad’s sandal just thinking about it.
Mario, the Neapolitan born proprietor and head chef of the imaginatively named Mario’s Cafe Bar, is not your average Italian home foodie lover. “My family would have a heart attack if they saw what I was serving,” he says before revealing that he supports AC Milan.
Today, we’re the ones facing up to the prospect of a coronary bypass. Barely 12-hours earlier, I had watched Red Barclay - a champion amongst gluttonists - meet a food-filled death in the Simpsons episode where Homer challenges him to a tenderloin-eating contest. It crosses my mind as a second hunk of lowest-cut bacon slides down my throat aided by its coating of fatty lubricant.
My starvation tactics that include a breakfast comprising of lager (consumed the night before), one cup of tea, a yoghurt and chewing gum, isn’t working so in an attempt to distract from the task ahead, I take reassurance in the knowledge that not a single person from the 60 who have confronted this challenge have yet completed it. Health disclaimers droop on the walls of the cafĂ© charting previous contestants to have a go. The furthest came from Alabama but Mario says a man from Aberdeen ate more than anyone else only to be defeated by the dreaded toast.
Three local teenagers in greebo uniform, all vying to become the town’s answer to Morgan Spurlock (Supersize Me), are all struggling. One of the lads doesn’t like black pudding, so he has five extra sausages (making it 15 in total) and he’s half the way through the plate when he eventually gives in. An armada of Hindenburgs would struggle to winch my own anxiety as I watch him squirm before his head hits the checkered clothed table in front of him with fatigue.
I’m halfway through my fifth and final pud, when Betty, certainly the local gossip queen of around 75 years, announces her departure from the establishment (after a mere egg on toast). Then, just as she gets to the exit door, "I’d best go t’ the loo before I make my way." I recall my reconnaissance mission to the unisex throne ahead of the breakfast where I found one slither of toilet paper left. Those Bismarck-brown sausages just don’t hold the same as allure as they once did. If they ever did.
My sinuses by now are filled with factory prepared meat. There’s no room for any more food. I’m done – 18 minutes in.
A group of Kopites scramble through the door brimming with hopeful exuberance and keen to take on the ultimate test in morning greed. But one look at our sorry efforts encourages them to only tackle a standard full English.
Taking my seat at the back of the Reebok later, the players are already out completing their pre-match stretches. With Yossi Benayoun looking like he needs a feed and new signing Sotiros Krygiakos moving like he's just been fed, thoughts return to the sausage fest earlier.
The journalists around me don’t know what I’ve just done but look at me as if I’m Mr Creosote from Monty Python’s Meaning of Life. Luckily for them, I’m not about to explode.
Not yet.

Monday 13 September 2010

A word with John Gidman

The Scouser who became a United full-back speaks ahead of Liverpool's visit to Old Trafford next weekend

The Boardwalk in Venice Beach, Los Angeles has been a Mecca for unconventional types since the 60s when beat poets and artists headed west in search of inspiration. John Gidman, the former Liverpool apprentice and Manchester United full-back, fitted right in when he visited towards the end of his time as an Everton player.
Abandoned by newly appointed manager, Howard Kendall, Gidman was pondering his future at a hotel on the Pacific coast, when a telephone call came prior to an afternoon trip to Malibu.
Born near the docks in Garston, Gidman had been released by Bill Shankly as a teenager after failing to conform to the methods of a Melwood coaching staff member. “I had long hair and didn’t look like a footballer my teens,” he says. “Having a different appearance has never helped young lads trying to make their way in the game. So I annoyed one or two.”
A decade later, in 1981 and now at Goodison Park, Gidman’s reputation was preceding him again. In the opening game of a post-season tour to Japan, he went to pick up his number two shirt in the dressing room when the Blues boss approached him.
‘No, no, no. no,’ Kendall said.
Gidman continues, “I assumed that meant I’d be on the bench. So I walked across and picked up a subs shirt. Again, Howard followed me and said, ‘No, no, no. no...you’re in the stand.”
Following two defeats with Gidman on the sidelines, the Everton squad flew back to Heathrow via LA. Then the phone rang.
“The receptionist announced, ‘Mr Gidman, there’s a Mr Ron Atkinson wanting to speak to you.’
“Howard was sitting there in the reception and his ears pricked up.
“I thought that’s all I fucking needed. It looked like I was manoeuvring a deal myself.
“Howard looked at me coldly, but I went away and took the call regardless. I knew Howard didn’t want me but he never told me the real reason why. I’d caused a few problems for Gordon Lee, the previous guy in charge, because he wanted the team to play defensively and my strength was going forward. Maybe he didn’t want that kind of problem and that’s why I wasn’t in his plans.
“Venice Beach was my kind of place but I couldn’t wait to get back home. I couldn’t say no to United. It was a relief to leave Everton.”
Gidman became Atkinson’s first signing at Old Trafford, joining for £450,000 with Mickey Thomas moving the other way. Atkinson, who was born in West Derby, but raised near Birmingham, had some words of advice for his new signing.
“He told me that he’d sign any player for United providing they were good enough and he believed that as long as I reproduced the kind of form from my Villa days, I wouldn’t have a problem with the crowd. He was right. Atko wanted to change the style of play and bring exciting football to the club. I was an attacking full back and he believed that would go down well with the fans.
“Ron knew I had a bit of a reputation off the field but in his book he said that he’d never met a more nervous person than me because I couldn’t stop going for a pee during negotiations.
“He offered me a three and a half year contract and told me not to be greedy and accept it. So I did.”
Gidman also received guidance from another Scouser, Steve Coppell.
“Steve was brilliant with me and made me feel part of the set up from day one at the Cliff (United’s training ground).
“After one game, I came back into the dressing room to find my shirt sleeves, tie, pants, shoes and everything else I owned cut up. I later found Steve had done it.
“I put them back on and walked straight into the players’ lounge like nothing had happened. It went down with the lads like Gordon McQueen, Arthur Albiston and Martin Buchan who were all big personalities. I was right in the thick of all the fun and games after that.”
Gidman’s debut in a defeat at Coventry marked a turnaround in his career. The release from Liverpool more than 10-years earlier had wedged in his throat like a fishbone and his desire to prove people wrong at Anfield was only just escaping his thoughts.
“On the letter Bill Shankly sent and signed to my parents confirming that the club didn’t want me, it said something like I didn’t meet the required standard of skill for the club. Really, they thought I was a disruptive influence. I looked and sometimes acted more like a rockstar than a footballer.
“I still had people like Ronnie Moran to thank, though. Ronnie converted me from a winger to a right-back and had enough faith to put me in the reserves when nobody else would. I made my debut at Blackpool alongside Alec Lindsay and I did really well.
“I ended up signing for Aston Villa and really enjoyed my time there – earning an England cap. That’s when I really felt that I’d proven people wrong because international football back then was the highest playing field to perform on.
“Then I joined Everton against my better judgement and things didn’t go so well. So signing for United was a big moment for me – even though I was born and brought up as a Liverpool fan.”
Gidman joined United at a time when Liverpool were the most feared team in England and on the continent, but United’s highly paid stars were playing exciting football
“I wouldn’t say I wanted to beat Liverpool more because Liverpool Football Club, the people of Liverpool and Liverpool as a city is in my blood. I always want to see the club doing well no matter what because it was instilled into me from childhood.
“When we got a result against them, whatever team I played for, it always made me proud because it’s always good to beat someone of something you admire. It proves you’re doing something right in your own career.
“Liverpool were a brilliant side but we had a really good record against them, especially at Anfield. The big games against the best teams always brought the best out in us, but if we went to Coventry or Southampton on a Wednesday night, we’d always struggle.
“That was the way United were in the 80s and ultimately a big reason why we never really challenged in the league. United signed big players with big personalities for even bigger fees. In the 90s, the roles completely reversed and Liverpool were like United were in the 80s.”
Despite playing for United, Gidman remained living on Merseyside.
“At the time, it seemed like a good idea. I liked a drink but everyone knew me in Liverpool.
“Every Sunday without fail, I would meet Souey (Graeme Souness) and Warky (John Wark) for a pint. Souey lived in Cuckoo Lane in Woolton Village and John had a place in West Derby so we’d meet at Sammy Lee’s wine bar in Smithdown Road.
“In ’85 when we played the FA Cup semi at Goodison (Liverpool drew 2-2 with United) we met up that night. As we were coming off the pitch, Warky walked up the tunnel and shouted, ‘Giddy, I’ll give you a bell in a bit – we’re going for a Greek meal in town.’
“We had the replay the following Wednesday, but it didn’t matter and we went out with our wives at this restaurant.
“People sitting near us couldn’t believe that there was a Liverpool player and a United player who’d just played a semi-final in the FA Cup with a replay to come within days and they were having a nice dinner together.
“That was the way it was then.”
Gidman says that despite featuring for United and being a former Everton player, he didn’t receive too much abuse from Kopites whenever he returned to Anfield.
“Most Liverpool fans understood that I was a huge Red and the club had let me go years before. I’d already made my name with Villa even before the move to Everton so people were questioning why Liverpool let me move on.
“It was at a time when Liverpool were the best in Europe, so my appearance on the field for United didn’t matter too much because United were so far behind Liverpool.
“When I went back to Everton, the fans were very good to me on the whole. You get the typical Scouse humour, ‘Why didn’t you play like this for us.’”
Gidman enjoyed his best season in a United shirt in 1984/85 when he won the FA Cup and received player of the year awards from numerous supporter groups. It prompted calls for him to be given a chance in the England team ahead of the World Cup, which was to be held in Mexico a year later.
But after sustaining a broken leg, he was sold to Manchester City. Within four months, Ron Atkinson was sacked by the United board and replaced by Alex Ferguson.
“If I’d have played under Fergie, the hairdryer would have blown up by now,” Gidman jokes. “I’ve heard a lot from lads that played under him that things changed drastically.
“Atko was a man’s manager and liked to be close to the players. I think Fergie does but his management of younger players has been second to none.
“You hear stories about him going to Ryan Giggs’ house and gate crashing a party before ordering everyone out. Even the girls.
“If I’d have seen him marching down my path, I’d have hidden in the loft.
“I probably wouldn’t have lasted long under Fergie.”
Today, now living near Marbella in southern Spain, Gidman says his heart isn’t with Liverpool or United.
“Villa were the ones that gave me the chance. I have huge respect for Everton, United and Man City without maybe having the same kind of deeper affection. There was a lot of pressure at United and the fans treated me brilliantly and it was the same at Goodison and Maine Road.
“I’m still good mates with Andy Gray from my Villa days. Last season we had a bet on who would win the league. I backed Liverpool and watched all the games supporting them like I did when I was a kid.
“Unsurprisingly – Andy backed someone else.”

Tuesday 7 September 2010

Breck Rd Chippy Paper: Jamie Carragher testimonial programme with...Jamie Carragher

With a pint of Tennents in hand, teeth like a row of vandalised gravestones and a Scouse accent so thick you could spread it on toast, this particular client of the Salisbury Hotel is surprisingly un-moved by the sight of Jamie Carragher wandering around the streets of Bootle on an average August afternoon.
“Alright Jamie kid,” mumbles the stumbling patron with his ill-fitting Mizuno t-shirt and acid washed jeans. “How’s ye’arld fella?”
Philly, Carragher’s father, was once the landlord of the pub so his face is familiar – even in the midst of a stupor.
“What’s going on lad?” Liverpool’s vice-captain responds. Then whispering over his shoulder, he offers a revelation: “That’s what happens if you spend too much time in The Solly...”
Carragher, who lived out his childhood on these streets, classes Bootle as his manor. He grew up in the suburb, five miles north of Liverpool’s city centre, living in a semi-detached house with his parents and two brothers.
While Carragher has since moved to nearby Blundellsands by Crosby beach, he maintains a link with the area. His mother still resides here (in a house called ‘Carra’s Lodge’) and if he ever has a drink (such occasions are rare), he frequents one of the watering holes around Marsh Lane, the thoroughfare that bisects the two places where Carragher first discovered football: the fields of St James’ RC Primary School and the indoor concrete floors of the Brunswick Boys’ Club, universally known in Bootle as ‘The Brunny.’
Today, it’s the school holidays and his daughter Mia (aged 6) is spending her afternoon at the club, just over the road from The Solly, watching films with a group of other kids, most of whom live in the terraced houses on the streets that lead towards Seaforth Docks. Son James (7) would also usually be here having a kick about with his mates but instead is attending a David Campbell Soccer School.
For Carragher, it’s the standard routine of shuttling his children around the borough. Such behaviour characterises him. Fans see the sportsman – the defender with over 600 appearances for Liverpool – someone who in Istanbul threw a body burning with cramp into a tackle – for the club, for the city. Donating a cheque worth £8,000 to The Brunny last January towards the cost of a new mini bus identifies the man – the father.
“The Brunny and Bootle generally is very important to me,” he says. “I had a modest upbringing with good working class people around, helping me out. I want my kids to have the same and that’s why I bring them here… I think I benefited from having a place like this to go to because it kept me off the street.”
Some footballers might send their children to a more salubrious location during the holidays – a camp in southern France perhaps. Here, in Bootle, though, as you walk through the steel doors of the Brunny, youngsters enjoy sport in a humble but secure and supervised environment. Inside, Carragher’s face is as recognisable to the five to 10-year-olds as it was to The Solly regulars over the road, such is his recurring attendance at the club.
With a group in the middle of a five-a-side game, Carragher asks one lad wearing a full Liverpool kit for a kick. “We’re ‘avin a match ‘ere,” seems to be the attitude, before he eventually relents, offering a pass.
Carragher believes that having a community facility such as the Brunny so close to his home helped him develop as a footballer naturally. Through his 23 Foundation and proceeds from today’s match, other kids might benefit from similar amenities like this around the city in the long-term.
“You’ve got to learn for yourself haven’t you? When you play street football, you learn to express yourself and make your own mistakes. As you get older, understandably, coaching becomes more important, but when you’re a youngster you get an understanding of life by playing sport with other kids from the street. You need to find your own way because there is no set path towards becoming a footballer.”
Carragher, whose testimonial against Everton marks a career at Liverpool now in its 15th season, became a professional at Anfield after supporting the Toffees as a child. He was a regular at Goodison and travelled away with his dad – the staunchest of Blues – along with his brothers. In 1989 when Michael Thomas scored an injury time winner at Anfield to deny Liverpool the title, he celebrated by applauding the lads who daubed “Thank you Arsenal” on a pub wall.
“I was lucky that I followed Everton during one of the best periods in their history,” he says. “They won the league twice, but when Everton weren’t winning it, Liverpool were, so there was a healthy competitive rivalry between both clubs. Ian Rush seemed to score every time he played in the derby and he became a figure that I grew up really disliking because he was so good. I was a Blue and I’m not afraid to say that when I was a kid, I really hated Liverpool.”
Such was the Carragher family’s resentment of all things Red, father Philly once embroiled himself in an argument with Kenny Dalglish.
“I was playing for Bootle Boys against Crosby Boys, who had Kenny’s son, Paul, in their team,” Carragher recalls. “ The scores were level in a two-legged semi-final to go to Goodison Park. Then we got a penalty that was a little bit iffy. Kenny kicked off saying it was a dodgy decision and he was giving the ref a load of stick. So my dad shouted to Kenny, ‘You’d know about dodgy penalties wouldn’t you – you get them all the time.’ The argument went on for what seemed like ages and eventually, someone had to separate them.”
When Carragher joined Liverpool’s centre of excellence as a striker at the beginning of the Nineties, Kenny Dalglish, remembering that exchange with the player’s father a few years earlier, labelled him ‘Sharpy’ after Everton’s Graeme Sharp.
“Everybody at Liverpool knew I was an Evertonian and I wasn’t shy about it. I remember coming back on the bus from a game shouting ‘get in’ when I heard on the radio that Everton had scored a late equaliser. Ronnie Moran marched to the back of the bus to see who’d made the noise and went ballistic.”
More than a year after making his professional debut, Carragher celebrated Everton’s escape from relegation in 1998 in the dressing room after Liverpool lost at Derby County 1-0 on the final day of the season. Everton had scrapped to a decisive 1-1 draw at home to Coventry City. Soon, though, his allegiances would change.
“When you walk into a football club full-time at 16, you are obviously going to change a lot by the time you are 32. I have a family now and kids, which straight away makes you think differently about life. On the football side, all you want to do when you’re a youngster is look after yourself by making sure you’re in the team. You want the team to win, but most of all, you’re a little bit selfish because you want to play well and make sure you carve a career out for yourself. As you get older you take more responsibility and spend time worrying about the team. The major turning point for me was in 1999 when we lost to Man United in the FA Cup after two injury-time goals. I felt sick because we’d played well and surrendered the lead so late on in the game.”
Carragher went to a pub called The Chaucer to unwind. There aren’t many areas in Liverpool that can be identified by either of the city’s football teams. Marsh Lane is, however, one of them.
“Bootle is a bit of an Everton hotbed but I thought that people knew me well enough to leave me alone. I expected some banter but I expected them to leave it at that because they could see that I was totally gutted. Instead, I got a load of abuse and they treated me like any other Red. That was the end for me. The penny dropped. I left my pint and walked out.
“They hadn’t done anything particularly wrong and most of the lads that were there are still my mates. But I’d been defending Liverpool against all of the jibes for quite a while by then and because I’d become so involved at the club, I finished with Everton that day.”

IT was Ronnie Moran’s idea to try Jamie Carragher as a centre-back. After breaking all kinds of goalscoring records in the Bootle junior leagues in his early teens, he’d been moved into central midfield at Liverpool. Then an injury crisis in the FA Youth Cup prompted a defensive re-shuffle.
“That team was strong at the back and didn’t concede too many goals,” Carragher remembers. “But when you go on a cup run of any kind, there are always going to be little hurdles that you have to overcome. I felt comfortable playing in midfield but always thought deep down that centre-back might be the position I ended up in because I felt that I could read the game well enough to be a success there.”
Carragher made a goalscoring full debut from midfield in a 3-0 win over Aston Villa in 1997 under Roy Evans. By 1998, though, Gerard Houllier was in charge and the Frenchman decided to use him in another area of the field.
“I won player of the year in 1998/98 as a centre-back,” Carragher continues. “Then Gerard went out and bought Sami Hyypia and Stephane Henchoz so for me, it was a case of finding another position in the team or moving elsewhere because I could never sit on the bench and be happy just picking up a wage for a long period of time. I managed to force myself into Liverpool’s first-team at left-back - a position that I’d never played in before in my life. It was through sheer determination that I made the position my own for a few years because it was the first major challenge of my senior career.”
Success followed. In 2001 Liverpool won the UEFA Cup, the FA Cup and the League Cup, plus the European Super Cup and the Charity Shield. Over the next five years, he would add to that haul, most notably acquiring a Champions League winner’s medal in 2005 with a momentous victory over AC Milan in Istanbul. Despite the silverware, Carragher, though, takes most pride from his longevity as a Liverpool player.
“A few times over the 13-14 years, I think some people have thought that maybe I wasn’t looking good for a long career at the club when we’ve signed this player or that player,” he says. “My mental strength and my ability as a footballer has surprised and maybe frightened these other players. I’ve trained every day as if it was a match and disciplined myself to make sure that every training session and every game counts. It’s hard to do that at Liverpool when you play two or three games a week and the spotlight is on you every time.
“The pressure that goes with being a Liverpool player is immense. We’ve had plenty of good players come here who haven’t been able to deal with that. At other clubs, I get the impression that you can bask in one good performance for two or three weeks but at Liverpool, the games come around so quickly that the latest good performance is forgotten about if you follow it up with a bad one.”
With that in mind, can he relax in between matches?
“The reason why I’ve played for Liverpool and England is not just because of my playing ability, but having the mental strength to overcome the bad times. Some people think that professional footballers just go out and play for 90 minutes then go home and forget about it. There’s a lot more to it than that. You’ve got to get yourself mentally ready before and deal with the comedown afterwards.
“At times, you want to switch off in everyday life with your family by relaxing for a few days. But you can’t be like that if you want to stay at the top. It’s impossible to switch off at any point. I think that commitment has kept me here for so long.”

BACK to today’s game. Carragher doesn’t want his testimonial to be a friendly. He hopes for a competitive match with the backdrop of a “proper” atmosphere.
“I’ve been to lots of testimonials where the players have turned up for a kick around. I really don’t want that to happen.”
He won’t be happy, either, with a diplomatic draw.
“I always want to beat Everton,” he continues. “It’s the most important game of the season. I get so wound up for a derby game because I get so many people around me giving the verbals. Especially at Goodison, you can see how much they want to beat you by the stick so it makes you want to beat them even more.”
The reference to Everton as “them” emphasises again that he shares no allegiance with his boyhood club. Yet he still respects them as an institution.
“I’d be lying now if I said that I hope they do well,” he says. “My dad’s exactly the same. He knows that blood is thicker than water and he’s followed me everywhere. Now he spends a lot of his time setting Evertonians straight - just for the fact that whenever they get a good result they rub our noses in it so much. When they got to the cup final against Chelsea, they were giving us a lot of stick in the build-up so when Saha scored after 20 seconds, I wasn’t happy.
“It might change a little bit when I stop playing because I know how much it helps the city. Now I own part of a restaurant, I know how it’s good for business when Liverpool and Everton are playing well. It’s important to me to see everybody with a few bob in their back pocket.”
It certainly seems like a long time since he followed Everton across Europe and attended so many cup finals in the mid to late 80s that Wembley began to feel like “Alton Towers.”
“If somebody had said to me when I was a kid going to watch Everton that 20 years later, I’d end up having a testimonial after so long as a Liverpool player, I’d have laughed and never believed them,” Carragher maintains. “I was a die-hard Evertonian, but when your career follows the path that mine has, your attitudes are bound to change. It has been great the way everything has turned out. I am very proud and privileged to have been involved at Liverpool, on the other side of the park from where I was as a kid. That’s me. I’ve done too much with my life at Melwood and Anfield.
“I’ll always be a Liverpudlian now.”