So what’s wrong with the modern game? Where shall I start?
It’s taken much too seriously in every way, as a business, sports science, you name it.
The players don’t look as though they enjoy it, like we did.
There is too much pressure. It’s so serious.
I’d love to see more home-grown players being brought through the system without all these big buys from abroad. Certain clubs develop their own talent but not enough.
And the money is now quite staggering; clubs need to ask if they are getting value for the vast salaries they are paying out.
Rant over. I was very grateful for that win bonus against Spurs. We were given the day off after the game and I spent most of it reading match reports. The Echo described me as a ‘mere slip of a lad’ for the first and only time in my career. We trained on the Thursday and the Friday and I kept my place for the Saturday home game against Nottingham Forest. I felt really confident as I lined up on the right wing and then I saw Forest’s left-back Stuart Pearce and just thought, ‘Oh…My…God!’ It was like one of those kids’ cartoons where a fearsome bull is snorting steam and pawing at the ground before charging.
STUART WAS THESCARIEST MAN IHAVE EVERPLAYED AGAINST,BY A MILE. ALL ICAN SAY IS IT IS AGOOD JOBSAINTS PLAYEDIN DARK-COLOUREDSHORTS.
Stuart was the scariest man I have ever played against, by a mile. All I can say is it is a good job Saints played in dark-coloured shorts. I was terrified. His thighs were wider than my torso. I think I got three kicks in that first half, and all from him. The first time he clattered me it was like ‘Welcome to the First Division son.’ To be honest I didn’t even try and take him on. The look in his eyes was enough. It was a steep learning curve for me but I can’t have done too badly because I got seven out of 10 in the paper even though we lost 3-1. Colin Clarke brought us level at 1-1 with 16 minutes to go, but they won with two goals from Gary Birtles and one from Neil Webb. It’s just as well there was only one sub back then because otherwise I might well have been off.
I found myself back on the bench after that and I was probably lucky not to be dropped altogether. In fact Chris Nicholl made a special point of kicking lumps out of me in training. I think he was trying to toughen me up and to get me used to facing players like Stuart Pearce. Chris had a real mean look in his eyes and you could tell he meant every kick, but I really believe he thought he was doing the best for me. After that I spent quite a lot of time on the bench, which was very frustrating. I think he was trying to protect me and bring me through slowly, just like Sir Alex Ferguson did with Ryan Giggs.
I, of course, thought I was good enough to play every week and reckoned I’d tell Chris, really tell him, well, once I got a bit braver. He was scary, an old-fashioned tea-cup thrower. After a defeat he had a terrible habit of picking on one person, normally me because I was the youngster. Very few dared answer back but I remember one game at home to QPR when it was 1-1 with 15 minutes left and we lost 4-1. It was rare for us to be turned over at The Dell like that, and two of the goals came from outside the area. Tim Flowers was in goal and didn’t get anywhere near them.
Chris stormed into the dressing room and slammed the door. No one dared make eye contact because we knew he’d be going for someone. Thankfully it was Tim. Chris yelled, ‘Goalie, you’ve let in two goals from outside the box and got nowhere near them. Have your eyes ever been checked?’ Tim couldn’t help himself and replied, ‘No, they have always been blue.’ How he wasn’t the second player to be punched by Chris I’ll never know. Chris was so stunned he didn’t know what to say.
Tim always had a reply but even he was dumbfounded after one game when he was injured while conceding the second goal. We were 2-1 down at half-time and Tim hobbled off the pitch. The physio Don Taylor was checking his ankle in the dressing room and Chris was laying into him as he lay there in agony. Don eventually managed to get a word in edgeways and said Tim would have to be subbed and would need to go to hospital for an x-ray.
Chris paused and then, in his distinctive northern accent, said, ‘If it’s broken, sorry. If not, W****R!’
5 I GET RON ATKINSON FIRED AND FERGIE HIRED
‘CHRIS NICHOLL WAS QUITE RELUCTANT TO GIVE ME
A CHANCE IN MY EARLY DAYS BUT WHENEVER THE GAME
WAS NOT GOING WELL, THE SAINTS FANS WOULD CHANT:
“WE WANT LE TISSIER”. I WAS NEVER ONE FOR DOING
MUCH WARMING UP BUT I KNEW IF I JOGGED UP THE
TOUCHLINE THE CROWD WOULD START SINGING MY
NAME—AND IT USED TO WIND UP THE MANAGER NO
END—SO I DID IT EVEN MORE!’
One of the great things about coming through the ranks was having a minder to look after me on the field. Jimmy Case took it upon himself to look after the young players. If anyone tried to kick us, he would note their number and give them a whack; anyone, that is, except Stuart Pearce. After 40 minutes of that game against Forest, I jogged inside and said, ‘Jim that’s three times he’s done me’. Jimmy just said, ‘Not today son!’
I GREW UPWATCHINGSHILTON PLAYFOR ENGLANDAND SUDDENLY IWAS A COCKY17-YEAR-OLDTRYING TO CHIPHIM INTRAINING.
It was brilliant having senior players like Jimmy Case, Mark Dennis and Joe Jordan as minders on the field and being able to work with them in training. Joe was so fit, one of the best trainers I worked with—not that I followed his example. It was quite daunting though to be training alongside such big names as Peter Shilton. I grew up watching him play for England and suddenly I was a cocky 17-year-old trying to chip him in training. It felt quite bizarre. He was the greatest keeper I’d ever seen and there I was trying to take the mickey out of him. I very rarely succeeded, but when I did, he hated it. Back then there was no such thing as a goalkeeping coach so Shilts used to take the sessions for the keepers, working with Phil Kite and my old mate Keith Granger.
There were times when Shilts would turn up for training looking a bit rough. We would go out and warm up then I would turn round after 20 minutes to see him walking off the field and heading for home. He was a law unto himself and just trained when he felt like it. For the majority of the time he trained like a Trojan and would really put himself and the others through a tough session. I really used to look forward to the times when he was on top form because it would be really difficult to get a shot past him and you got a real high if you did it. He hated being beaten, even in training.
It took me two months to get off the mark but I’ll never forget my first goals, and nor will Ron Atkinson. They came in a Littlewoods Cup tie against Manchester United at The Dell on November 4, 1986. We were 2-0 up when I came off the bench to score twice in a 4-1 win. The referee, Lester Shapter, allowed my first despite a massive shout for offside. There was a long kick from the keeper, Colin Clarke challenged in the air but the ball actually came off their defender. If Colin had made contact then I’d have been offside but I ran on and chipped the keeper.
I was so excited that I slid on both knees towards the fans at the Milton Road end of the ground—and then I saw the ref consulting the linesman. My heart sank because I thought I was going to look a complete arse if he disallowed it, but thankfully it stood. My second came from a Jimmy Case corner and I rose majestically (the only way to describe it!) to score with a downward header so my first two goals for Saints came, strangely, with my left foot and my head. Two days later Ron’s time was up and he was sacked. I didn’t feel guilty because it wasn’t down to that one result but it was definitely the final straw. I did think it was a shame that he lost his job because he was a good manager but, as it turned out, that was Fergie’s big chance. I hadn’t done the rest of the league