The first thing that hit me when we finally moved out to Basingstoke was how much space there was. There was the modest development of houses, a school, some shops, and then miles and miles of space for as far as the eye could see. For a kid who wants to run and run, it was heaven. Unlike my parents (I’m sure), I don’t remember missing London for a moment. I was too young for that kind of nostalgic longing. All I could see was the benefit of moving out of the big, overcrowded city and having endless clean, green space to run around in. Once I saw that, I never looked back.
The other thing that was all clean, shiny and new was our school. It had only been open for about three or four years, so Paul’s class, Year Four, comprised the oldest kids in the school. There was no old gang ruling the roost, there was no graffiti or broken equipment. It was ours for the taking.
Furthermore, our sports fields seemed endless. No more playing football on concrete courts; there was lush, green grass everywhere. I quickly became a sports nut. I was good at everything: cricket, football, running, rugby; basically, if it involved running, I was good at it. I was the school sports captain in the making. I was never happier than when I was outside, running around and getting muddy. Of course, this helped detract from the fact I was absolutely useless at my schoolwork!
Weekends in London had been spent hanging around the pub being told not to get in the way; Saturdays and Sundays were dad’s busiest times, with only a few hours off to spend with his kids. By contrast, weekends in our new home were about walking for miles and miles across green fields, and hanging out with dad for hours on end, bird watching through his top-notch binoculars. We were immersed in nature; it was fast becoming an idyllic childhood as far as I was concerned.
Getting serious about football
I probably got more serious about football over other sports because of my best friend at the time, Matt. We’d met at primary school and that’s where we first got really keen on football. Matt’s dad ran the local football team, so as soon as we were old enough and good enough, Matt and I were recruited. By the time we were approaching our teens, we had become local football heroes, playing games every weekend. We were always entering and winning tournaments, leading to cabinets full of trophies and medals.
My dad was instrumental in making it possible for me to play so much football at an early age. He would drive me to practice every Tuesday, and to all the weekend games; he was on my side every step of the way. The only thing dad and I seriously fell out over was our football teams. He supported Chelsea. In defiance, and partly because we had an uncle, Jim, who worked at White Hart Lane, Paul and I had chosen Spurs. My Uncle Jim was a great guy. He sadly passed away recently, but he left a real legacy behind him; many of my family members (myself, Paul, and many of our cousins) are all still huge Spurs fans.
Mum’s support was crucial too. Without her, I wouldn’t have had any kit to play in! Us boys would pile out of the house on a Sunday morning and return several hours later, happy, exhausted and covered in mud. There would be baths run, the washing machine would be loaded up with our filthy clothes, and there would be a big Sunday roast on the table by three o’clock.
My parents never put much pressure on me in terms of my schoolwork. They simply said, “Do your best, son. As long as you do your best, that’s fine with us.” Looking back, I think what I actually heard was, “Do as little as you can get away with.” I know my friends got punishments and lost privileges for not doing their homework, but mum and dad were pretty laid back with me. I seem to remember getting a CSE in Pottery and Art, but that was about it from my time at school. I often ask myself if I regret the fact that my parents didn’t push me harder to get a better education. Maybe it would have given me other opportunities, but perhaps I would have rebelled anyway. My head was filled with sport; there was no room for anything else.
There was another big reason why I lacked the motivation and incentive to try hard academically... I knew I had a job lined up as soon as I hit 16. That must have played a major part in how little I did in school.
Team photo from my childhood club Beechdown FC (I am in the middle row, second from the right)
Interest from Southampton and Portsmouth
At the age of 13, I was already on the books at Southampton, which meant they were seriously considering giving me a schoolboy contract once I turned 14. This would have tied me to them for two years, but wouldn’t necessarily guarantee me a paid apprentice contract at 16, which is what any young, hopeful footballer is looking for.
A few months after I turned 13, I went away for a week for the Hampshire trials. It was hugely exciting as it was my first real trip away from my home and family, and it meant playing football non-stop for a whole week. At that point, football-obsessed as I was, it was my dream come true. I clearly remember watching the royal wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Di while I was at the trials, so this must have been late July 1981. I arrived home from the trials tired but exhilarated, with the whole summer stretching ahead of me. All I could think about was football, about how many hours of playing I could fit in over the summer holidays.
The following week we were sitting down to dinner on an ordinary Thursday night and there was a knock on the door. It was Dave Hirst, a scout for Portsmouth Football Club (PFC), Southampton’s biggest rivals. He told me he’d been watching me at the Hampshire trials and that Portsmouth wanted me to sign schoolboy forms with them. I wasn’t sure. While I wasn’t that happy at Southampton, I felt like it would be disloyal to sign with Portsmouth. I knew Southampton was expecting me to sign schoolboy forms with them once I turned 14.
Seeing my hesitation, Dave pulled out his trump card. He told me if I signed the schoolboy forms with Portsmouth, they would guarantee me an apprentice contract when I turned 16. I was still only 13, so I couldn’t sign the schoolboy forms until I turned 14, but Dave said I could go down to Portsmouth that summer and see what I thought. If I liked it, I could sign with them when I turned 14 the following April, with a guaranteed contract at 16.
Southampton hadn’t made that guarantee so it was a massive pull. Plus, as I’d told dad only a few months before, I wasn’t really enjoying myself at Southampton anymore. I wasn’t feeling challenged there; it was becoming too monotonous. I wasn’t even sure anymore that I wanted to stick it out for two more years as a schoolboy at Southampton. Dad encouraged me to do whatever I thought would make me happy. So in the end it wasn’t a hard choice. Once I turned 14, I signed the forms with Portsmouth.
Clearly, I owe a lot to Dave Hirst. He saw potential in me and supported me throughout my time at Portsmouth. He had a keen eye for talent and helped to identify and develop many young players, such as Spurs midfielder and England player Darren Anderton.
I had to keep it a big secret at school; I couldn’t tell anyone about the contract I’d signed with Portsmouth that was going to allow me to leave, with a guaranteed job, at 16. Now, of course, I had an excuse to slack off my schoolwork completely. Why did I need an education when I knew I had a job to go to? I wasn’t cocky, but I didn’t worry if I got in trouble for not working hard enough. I knew something they didn’t know... that I didn’t need an education. Or so I thought in my naïve, football-obsessed teenage mind.
The future contract did keep me out of trouble in other ways. For teenagers who aren’t particularly academic, there are always too many distractions and temptations. It’s the same in any generation. In my day, glue sniffing was the drug of choice, but in every generation there will be those unhealthy choices that kids can make that will jeopardise their chances of getting a good education.
Sport plays such an important role in keeping kids focused on something healthy and away from smoking and drugs; they need a physical outlet. I remember plenty of parties during my teenager years – there