West Ham were able to attract some of the best young players. I knew that. I was playing with some of them. One guy who came in at 17 though had not grown up with the likes of me and Hodgey. His name was Martin Mullins. He was a Scotland schoolboy cap and had been signed from under the noses of the Old Firm as well as a few English clubs. He was quite a big lad and arrived with an air of self-assurance which suggested he knew he was the real deal. I had heard he was a good player and he looked the part in training. On one occasion everyone else had finished up for the day but it was time for my spikes. It was wet and I went outside to do my sprints. The sodden grass was perfect for ‘doggies’ – short bursts between two fixed points. The rain meant I could slide to one end simulating a tackle before getting up and repeating it from side to side – nothing you would ever find in a coaching manual but Dad had told me to do it and I knew I had to. Mullins walked out dressed for the weather to find me darting around and sliding in the mud. ‘What the f*** are you doin’?’ he asked incredulously. I didn’t say a word. I stopped very briefly and then just carried on. I felt very self-conscious about the extra training I undertook and even though I believed in what I was doing I was too shy to defend it to anyone else. Mullins was a flash kid who thought he had everything he needed to make the grade. He just looked down his nose at me and walked away shaking his head. I was nervous but it didn’t stop me going out and doing it again because I knew where I wanted to get to.
Dad was responsible for a lot of the regime but inventing new challenges was entirely my idea. I would start off to do eight box-to-box runs and as I was approaching the target number I would up it to ten. Then I would do it with the ball because that was harder. Later, when I got into the first team, I came in on my day off and would do the same drill. It could be slightly embarrassing. I was out there and Tony Carr was taking the youth team and all of a sudden I realized they were all watching me. It was nothing like the Mullins incident though. Tony was simply pointing out that it was my day off and there I was. Maybe they thought I was mad. I don’t know. I just knew that I wanted to become a better player and to do that I had to train more and harder. It’s a lot easier to think that you’ve got everything in your locker to make it than it is to go out and do what is required. It takes a lot of hard work.
Dad had always told me that it was a slog to make it as a professional footballer so I grew up not expecting anything less. From the time I arrived at West Ham I had some ground to make up. I knew that. The mile runs which we would do twice a week were a nightmare when I first started. I used to be sick trying to run it as fast as I could. Tony Carr and Frank Burrows – who was reserve team coach – helped me to build up my strength. I suffered because I hadn’t developed physically the same as some of the others and my legs couldn’t get the pace in training. Players like Hodgey were already men – I knew that because he would show off the hairs on his willy in the showers.
I played in the youth team when I was 16 and my first year YTS was split between the youth team and a few games in the reserves. That was a massive step up for me at that time – one I really felt. In the first year of YT we won the reserve League Cup which was a two-leg tie for the final and it’s significant for two reasons.
The first is because we played against Chelsea. The second is Rio. In the first leg we went a goal up – which I scored – but got beaten 4-1. In between the first match and the return, the first team went to Australia. It was the end of the season and they were going on a tour. The club had given up the ghost on the final after the hammering in the first leg and I suppose you couldn’t blame them. As a result, a few of the older reserves went down under and some of the younger trainees came into the side for the second game at Stamford Bridge. Everyone, including Chelsea, assumed it was a formality.
We weren’t expected to salvage it and as a result we played without pressure. You can’t lose what you’ve already lost and so the coach put this young gangly kid in the hole behind the two strikers for the match – Rio. What happened was remarkable. Rio was just on fire. He was playing like Ronaldinho complete with the tricks and flicks. There were moments when I just stood back and watched in complete amazement. The rest of the team was playing well but Rio was having the match of his life. We were two up, then three before they pulled one back. It didn’t matter. We were on a roll and wouldn’t be denied.
We won 5-2 in normal time and the game went to extra-time and then to penalties. We held our nerve and scored our kicks. We won – a bunch of young lads who were left to do whatever we could in the name of the club after they opted to take the majority of the regular players away. It was my first taste of glory and it was special. That it came at the home of Chelsea made it even more so. Rio was ecstatic. So was I. It was an incredible experience, one of those which can really only happen in football and we had been right at the heart of it.
Dad was a bit shocked but not surprised. He had played a big part in bringing Rio to West Ham. Rio tells the story about when Dad turned up at his little flat in Peckham where he lived with his Mum and brother Anton. Rio was impressed right away. Dad had a big black Mercedes and the kids around his place had never seen a car like it. He was funny when he first came to our house as well. He thought it was some kind of mansion. We were quite well off and I realized that, but Rio’s face was a picture when he came in the front room and looked around as if someone had dropped him on Mars.
Signing Rio was a big coup for West Ham. He was a real prospect. He struggled with his co-ordination as everyone does when they are growing up. I certainly did. I remember going to watch him and being amazed at how leggy he was. He was all height and pace but not quite as graceful as he is now. He was a good player, no doubt about that. At that stage he was playing in midfield but he was very insecure about his physique. I knew exactly what that was like because I had suffered from growth spurts and I knew how disorientating they could be.
‘I’m not going to make it. I’m not going to make it,’ Rio would say all the time. He was a bit clumsy and I remember worrying that he might be right. He overcame that insecurity and found his feet when he got into the youth team. And, for whatever reason he was played in the hole in that League Cup final second-leg, it doesn’t matter – it was tactical genius.
After that, Rio developed quickly. His control was always great and he was a natural at bringing the ball down with his first touch. He improved further and the word came from Harry that he wanted Rio moved back into defence. There was a bit of consternation. Rio and I gave each other puzzled looks but we were used to doing what we were told. Harry believed that with Rio’s physique and ability there was the potential to make him a great ball-playing centre-half. West Ham had a history in that position and when Rio is mentioned in the same breath as the late, great Bobby Moore I often think of exactly that moment when the decision was made.
People can say a lot of things good and bad about Harry but he saw something in Rio that could be great for club and country. And he was right. Even then Rio played much the same way as he does now for Manchester United and England. He has always been able to dribble the ball out of defence and to be honest I can’t remember a time when he didn’t, from youth team right through the system and into the first team. There were a couple of times when he lost possession and, of course, he was given stick. It’s the English way. Criticize, don’t encourage him. Put him down and tell him he should have punted it long. Rio, though, was very single-minded. He knew what he was capable of and football for him is more than just defending. He probably improved his defending more when he left West Ham for Leeds United. David O’Leary was a man devoted to the art of defending and he was good for Rio. Maybe he needed to improve his focus during the game.
At the time before he left Upton Park he saw himself very much as an all-round footballer but all players need to learn and improve. I have and so has Rio. We have lost a bit of that closeness we used to have because he has moved up north but when we are together on England duty it feels like yesterday when we were playing at West Ham.
Back then everyone was talking about Rio being the one who would be a great player. I was jealous. I wanted to be the one everyone was talking about. Rio was already a great player – even in midfield. I was different from him. Where Rio was blessed with amazing football