Eventually, Olly played as a semi-professional in the reserve side for Witham Town FC, but still dreamed of Premier League stardom. ‘My record was pretty good,’ he recalled. ‘I think I scored something like forty goals in twenty or thirty games.’ He modelled himself on the Irish player Robbie Keane who, during Olly’s time as a regular player, was one of the stars of Tottenham Hotspur. ‘I like the fact Robbie could score goals but could really play as well,’ said Olly, aware that teamwork and helping to create the goals, not just scoring them, is central to being a good player.
By 2006, Witham Town’s reserve team was a treble-winning side and Olly would make the club’s first team. But he would get no further in the world of soccer, unlike his teammate Cody McDonald, who would later be a striker for league sides Norwich City and (from 2011) Coventry City.
Witham Town reserves winger Matt Dean knew Olly from both on and off the pitch. They had been close mates ever since their ex-girlfriends had been best friends and he would harbour fond memories of some hedonistic nights out with both Murs twins in Chelmsford. ‘We would watch Olly and Ben own the dance floor,’ he said. ‘They would be incredible.’
Kirk Setford was another of Olly’s footballing friends of several years. They had played together for a Sunday team called the Howbridge Swifts and Kirk watched him develop some killer dance-floor moves at clubs in Witham, as well as accompany him abroad. ‘When we went on a stag do in Amsterdam, he had the DJ trying to outdo him by playing different songs,’ recalled Kirk. ‘Every song the DJ played, Olly did a different dance and everyone was loving it.’
All the while, during his time as a centre-forward, Olly worked in nine-to-five jobs during the week. He had trained to be a fitness instructor but, when he discovered he did not relish the job, he followed in the footsteps of his mum Vicky-Lynn and worked as a recruitment consultant. For about four years, he worked at Prime Appointments in Witham’s Newland Street. Again, according to its managing director, Robyn Holmes, his potential as a singer could not be silenced: ‘He has sung for us in the past, at Christmas parties, and we always thought what a talented singer he was.’ The sound of his singing was ever-present around the offices and, if he wasn’t singing, he’d be listening to music.
By 2009, he was working as a customer advisor at Climate Energy Ltd in the same town’s Freebournes Road. Here, he handled telephone calls from customers who were seeking advice on how to save energy in and around their homes. His boss was Tracy Baird. ‘It was a pleasure working with Olly,’ she said in the light of his success. ‘We all miss his dance moves and his tremendous voice.’
Later, Olly reflected on his ordinary working life before X Factor. ‘I had regular jobs, working nine-to-five like most people and earning the minimum wage. I worked in a jam factory and I worked in another factory, then call centres.’ Working in the latter, he found himself selling kitchens, then mortgages. If work was unremarkable, he was relatively carefree. ‘Me and my brother didn’t really appreciate the money side of things and the pressure our parents were under. Being young lads, going out every weekend, we’d miss paying rent and stuff like that because we didn’t know what was going on. We were just going out, splashing our money on drink, me and my mates playing football.’ He later came to appreciate the sacrifices his parents made. ‘Now I realise the stress – the mortgage, the bills – it mounts up. So it is very difficult and I’m sure they go through a lot.’
‘It’s always been his dream to be a pop star or a professional football player,’ said twin brother Ben in 2009. ‘But as he got older, music took over. We used to watch The X Factor at home and I would say, “Why don’t you just go on it?” But he didn’t have the confidence to take the next step.’
In the spring of 2007, Olly finally mustered up the confidence to audition for the programme. Interestingly, in the light of his current status as an ‘entertainer’, his choice of song was the essence of fun, if not the greatest technical challenge for a budding singer. ‘I Wanna Be Like You’ was one of the most popular songs from the muc-hloved 1968 Disney animated feature The Jungle Book. His rendition was unsuccessful, neither good nor poor enough to be televised.
A year later, he tried a second time. This time, his song of choice was ‘Last Request’ by Paolo Nutini. Again, success proved elusive and his attempt would not be screened. ‘Olly was very disappointed,’ twin brother Ben would tell one newspaper. ‘But I kept encouraging him to give it another go.’
Perhaps some regular singing experience in front of people would help. Olly’s ambition to be a singer was growing day by day, albeit on a modest scale. Unlike the likes of Jessie J, Amy Winehouse and Katie Melua, he would not study at the Brit School in Croydon. Instead he began attending karaoke nights at his local pub in Witham, The George. ‘It turned into a Sunday night thing. The place would get busy and it was obvious they were coming to see me.’
‘Even then, he took everything in his stride,’ sister Fay later marvelled. ‘I remember seeing a poster in The George advertising a “Singalong with Olly Night”. I couldn’t believe it. He’s not one to brag and, when I quizzed him about it, he was so laid back.’
Olly quickly became known as a versatile performer, with his repertoire encompassing covers of soul, funk and Motown standards, as well as approximations of Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra. His repertoire had something for everyone, in short, and such was his popularity that The George’s landlord, John Fisher, offered him regular gigs with guitarist friend, Jon Goodey. ‘I was terrified,’ said Olly, ‘but thought why not. I had always enjoyed singing and it was a success.’ As Small Town Blaggers, Murs and Goodey were paid £150 a night. ‘We ended up being booked in lots of different pubs doing fifties and sixties theme nights,’ said Olly. ‘It was all word of mouth. They would be packed. I knew from then what I wanted to do.’ Among their repertoire was one of Olly’s favourites from childhood: The Proclaimers’ ‘I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)’. ‘It’s one of them songs. As soon as you start playing it, it’s such a big party song. The whole crowd would start singing it.’
Olly’s subsequent spell in a group called F2K would lead to a friendship with singer Lara George. Their association would endure: in October 2010 they would sing together at the wedding of Olly’s elder sister Fay.
Pub gigs, a few parties, a wedding or two – Olly was getting the taste for singing, dancing and performing. But money remained scarce and it was time for one or two reality checks from his family. First, his grandfather sat him down for a talk. ‘He said, “What are you doing with your life? At your age I had a house, a wife, kids and a car. More importantly, I had a decent job. What have you got?”’
One subsequent family dinner brought things to a head. ‘We did say he needed to concentrate on his job,’ admitted his mum Vicky-Lynn in 2010. ‘They all ganged up on me,’ said Olly, ‘saying I needed to get a proper job. I knew they were being realistic but it was sad because, after all the different jobs I’d done since I was sixteen, there I was finally doing something I loved.’ He dearly hoped that he might be able to make a proper living out of his passion but the job of singing – just like any full-time job – takes patience, determination and a lot of hard work. And some luck too.
Maybe he’d have some good luck at a TV ‘dream factory’ near Bristol. In between his first two X Factor auditions, Olly Murs applied to appear on a daily game show, which had been a must-see for afternoon viewers since debuting on Channel 4 in October 2005. Noel Edmonds’ Deal or No Deal was a game of chance and strategy. Contestants, faced with 22 sealed boxes containing mystery sums of money ranging from 1p to £250,000, had to eliminate each one until they were left with the last box: their prize. Every now and again, a figure called ‘The Banker’ would call Noel on a telephone and offer the contestant a sum of money, to which they would either say ‘Deal’ or ‘No deal’.
Because Deal or No Deal was a programme where contestants might appear several times on screen before they got the chance to play the game, regular eagle-eyed viewers