Craig Bellamy - GoodFella (29 page)

The following Wednesday, I captained Wales for the Gary Speed Memorial game against Costa Rica at the Cardiff City Stadium. How do you prepare for a game like that? The last time I prepared for a Wales match, Speedo was in charge. The whole thing was weird in a macabre way. It was Chris Coleman’s first match in charge of Wales. It wasn’t exactly an upbeat way to begin.

Everybody, players and fans, wanted to pay their tributes to Speedo but no one really knew what to say. Don’t forget, this was a group of Wales players who had been given absolutely no support by the Welsh FA in the wake of Speedo’s death. No one ever checked on us or asked how we were dealing with things. No one asked any of us how we thought the succession should be dealt with. No one asked us what we thought the most sensitive way to proceed might be.

This was a group of players who had been through a terrible trauma and I found the Welsh FA’s insensitivity strange. They didn’t seem to understand that a tragedy like that heightens players’ loyalty to the regime Speedo had represented. We didn’t want all the work he had done to be wasted. We wanted it to be nurtured. I think we probably felt that was a good way of respecting his memory. Most of us wanted Raymond Verheijen and Osian Roberts, Speedo’s assistants, to retain senior roles in the set-up.

To his credit, Aaron Ramsey spoke out about it. “We don’t want to be taking a backward step again, having a big change and players not wanting to turn up and play for their country,” he said. “At the moment everybody wants to play, everybody is reporting for international duty and enjoying themselves. We just want as little change as possible; we had great results in the last few games and the team was playing full of confidence.”

Judging by what happened, it seemed that the Welsh FA hunted him over that. At least he had the courage to say what he had to say. I tell you what, Speedo would have been proud of him for that. That’s what Speedo would have done, too. He would have said the right thing and he would have said the honest thing.

The truth was it was our first time together as a squad since Speedo’s death and we didn’t know what to do. We didn’t know how to act. We didn’t know whether to try to treat it as a celebration of his life or to mourn. His two boys stood with me in the line-up before the game because I was captain for the day in Rambo’s absence. They were incredibly brave. They inspired the rest of us.

I didn’t want to play. I don’t think any player did. The fans wanted to show their respect and we had to be there for them. Part of you feels you have to go and put on a show but it wasn’t like that. It was just a sad occasion. We lost 1-0 and then everybody limped home. When I got back to Liverpool, I was emotionally drained. Won my first trophy, played in a memorial game for one of my best mates, marriage over.

The breakdown of my marriage had started to take a heavier and heavier toll on me. I struggled to sleep the night before games. Even with sleeping tablets. I couldn’t block it out any more. I spent more and more time talking to Steve Peters. I was using him more than Ronnie O’Sullivan was, which is saying something.

I missed games through injuries that I’m convinced were caused because of the fatigue brought on by my sleeplessness.

But Liverpool still had big games to play that season. We were struggling to make any real impact in the Premier League but we had one trophy under our belt already and now we were going for the FA Cup, too. We beat Stoke at Anfield in the quarter-finals in mid-March and drew Everton in the semis.

Everton were ahead of us in the league by the time the match came around in April and their fans convinced themselves this was the occasion when they were going to get one over on us. There was a lot of talk that there was finally going to be a shift in the balance of power on Merseyside and that Everton were ready to take over the leading role.

What drove me on was not just pride in the club but seeing the nerves that were afflicting Jamie Carragher and Steven Gerrard. I told Carra he was one of my heroes and there was no way I was going to let him lose. We got the train down to London and I sat at the same table as them. They were petrified by the thought of losing to Everton.

I knew we would be all right. I started on the bench again so I was watching when a mix-up between Carra and Daniel Agger let in Nikica Jelavic to put Everton ahead midway through the first half. Poor Carra must have thought all his nightmares were coming true at that point.

But Everton conjured a defensive mistake of their own in the second half when Sylvain Distin left a backpass short and Suarez ran on to it and clipped it past Tim Howard. Kenny brought me on for Stewart Downing with six minutes to go and I could sense Everton had gone. They were out on their feet and before long they had conceded a free-kick on the touchline level with the edge of their area.

I had only been on for three minutes. I bent the free-kick in and Andy Carroll glanced it in. There were a few minutes of injury time but Everton didn’t threaten us at all. When the final whistle went, I looked for Carra straight away. I couldn’t see him at first. Then I discovered why. He was on his hands and knees on the floor. It was relief that had felled him more than anything, I think. Sheer relief. I ran over to him and gave him a pat on the back. He looked up at me.

“Thank fuck for that,” he said.

My wife wasn’t there this time. My eldest boy, Ellis, was there. He always has been. But I didn’t go back to Cardiff this time. I flew back to Liverpool with the team. I didn’t fancy going back to an empty flat on my own and Carra was going straight from Liverpool airport to his local pub in Bootle. He was ready to celebrate. He said if we had lost that day, everything he had achieved in his Liverpool career would have been thrown out of the window. People would always have reminded him of that defeat.

I went with him to the pub. I sat with him and watched as he taunted every Evertonian who came through the door. I could see them glance over at him and roll their eyes at each other, smiling, when they realised he was sitting in the corner. They all knew he wouldn’t spare them. He didn’t spare them, either. He gave them merciless stick. It was a great night.

The semi against Everton was worth more than the final to me. The first FA Cup final I remember watching was 1986 when I was six years old and Ian Rush scored two against Everton. So that semi let me relive a lot of my childhood memories.

We trailed off in the league and finished eighth. Damien Comolli, the director of football, was sacked in April. There was uncertainty about whether Kenny would stay on. I dearly hoped he would, of course, but by the time the FA Cup final against Chelsea came around, I was in a real mess about my divorce. I didn’t sleep the night before it. Like I said, I wasn’t sleeping most nights by then.

Perhaps I was getting blasé about playing at Wembley all of a sudden but the cup final didn’t quite live up to my expectations. Perhaps it couldn’t. I loved all the footage from the old finals at the old stadium, the long walk across the turf from the tunnel, the game played in the bright sunshine of mid-afternoon. This game kicked off at 5.15pm. There was no long walk across the turf. It was the new Wembley.

I was in the starting line-up this time, up front with Luis. I didn’t play particularly well and Chelsea were 2-0 up seven minutes into the second half. Andy Carroll came on for Jay Spearing with about 35 minutes to go and dragged us back into the game. He scored one and only a terrific save from Petr Cech denied him an equaliser. They were worthy winners, though, and I took it on the chin. I had bigger things going on in my life. I knew my time at Liverpool had probably come to an end. I needed to be back in Cardiff, to be there for my children.

When Kenny was fired 10 days after the cup final and a few months after bringing Liverpool their first trophy for six years, I knew for sure it was time to go.

For someone like me, you don’t get much better than playing for Liverpool under Kenny Dalglish. That was my dream and now I felt that my dream was done.

29

Letting Go

T
he time I spent with Steve Peters made me look at myself in a different way. A lot of what we talked about, to begin with at least, was about the struggle between the rational side of the brain and the rage that comes from our primitive origins. He has written a book about it called The Chimp Paradox. The chimp is the part of us that rages and lashes out and when I play, I am completely chimp-orientated.

That’s why I have never been able to watch a recording of myself playing. Because that’s not me. I hate it. I hate watching how I confront the referee. I don’t like that side of me. There has always been this Jekyll and Hyde. I have had the chimp fighting me. Do you know how many times I have wasted energy over thinking about a decision and it has prevented me doing something two seconds later because I was still thinking about what just happened?

I have always been told, ‘that’s who you are and to play well, that’s what you’ve got to be like.’ But if you see the top athletes, they are not like that. Do you know why? Because the other part of their brain, the computer, takes over.

Steve made me understand I could fix a lot of the things that were making me so unhappy. Some of them were simple things. I was petrified that I would finish my career without a trophy. Petrified. He told me I had been nothing but a success as a player and that I didn’t need trophies to prove to anyone how good I was as a player. He told me I’d already won.

The fear of not winning a trophy, of even losing games, had taken over my life. When you let go of those kinds of things it is amazing how relaxed and calm you become.

I won a trophy with Liverpool a few months after all this partly because I was at peace with the idea that we might lose. Would winning a trophy change me as a person? No. Would it make me a better player? No. So what the hell was I worried about?

I went to New York 10 days after the FA Cup final. The last thing I wanted to do was play football but Wales had a friendly against Mexico at the MetLife Stadium in New Jersey and I had committed to playing in it. They battered us and we lost 2-0. I came home from that flight to nothing.

I found myself living at my mum and dad’s in Trowbridge for a couple of days. I didn’t have a home any more. I’d agreed to let my wife live in that for the sake of the kids while the details of the divorce were thrashed out. I stayed in my old bedroom, staring out of the front window on to the street where I used to play.

Then I flew to Singapore for the launch of Liverpool’s kit for the 2012-13 season. The club had signed a new deal with Warrior and Warrior asked me to be involved at the start.

Brendan Rodgers was named as the new manager the morning I arrived in Singapore. He phoned me a few hours later. He said he wanted to keep me and I would be perfect for the way he wanted to play. I told him I had a few problems at home. I told him things were uncertain. He was brilliant with me. He said I could have all summer to think about it.

I had a busy summer lined up, which was probably a good thing. I didn’t particularly want to be playing football but it was better than having time to think. A few months earlier, Stuart Pearce had come to see me to ask how I felt about competing for Great Britain as one of the three overage players in the Olympics.

I hadn’t expected to be part of that. I didn’t think I fitted the bill, really. I thought there would be pressure for Pearce to go down the David Beckham route. But I was keen. I knew I could offer a lot off the pitch as well. I didn’t think he would follow through with it but the idea excited me. I liked Pearce, too. We just sat there talking about football for hours. He impressed me a lot.

In late April, he rang and asked what I was doing in the summer in terms of training. He told me to keep fit because he had finalised his plans and he was definitely going to pick me as one of his overage players. I promised I wouldn’t let him down.

I lived at my mum and dad’s during much of that summer. I got close to them again for the first time since I had left that house at the age of 15. It was one of the best things that came out of the mess of my divorce. They had lost me for a long time and it was nice for us to be a strong unit again. There were other good things. I trained with Ellis a lot. I went to Malta for a week. I was the youngest person on the island. It’s Gary Neville’s favourite place, which says it all...

I knew there would be a lot of pressure on me as one of the overage players. The fact that Beckham wasn’t involved would increase that pressure because we would have to justify his absence. If it went pear-shaped, everyone would say it was because Beckham had been snubbed. I was also worried about quite how I’d stand up to it all after the problems I’d had in my private life.

But I knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. To be involved in the Olympics was amazing. It was my major tournament at last, I suppose. Ryan Giggs was the captain and it was an honour to be in the same set-up as him. Even at a late stage of my career, it was great just to be around a player who has achieved what he has achieved.

He’ll be a manager one day soon, I’m sure of it. He’ll be successful, too. He has so much to offer. The way he talks and the way he comes across, I’ll be shocked if he doesn’t make it. He has got a separateness. Even as a player, somehow he manages to keep a distance between him and his teammates. Managers need that. He knows what to say and when to say it. It’s difficult not to want to listen to him after everything he’s done.

We went to a training camp in Spain. It was like trying to cram a pre-season into a week. I shared with Ryan for a month but the younger players were a good bunch, too. It was a really good group. Stuart Pearce was great, training was enjoyable and the closer the Games came, the more the anticipation built.

We played Brazil at the Riverside in a warm-up match and they beat us convincingly, partly because they were ahead of us in their preparations. Then we went down to London to stay in the Olympic Village for a night, just so we could get a taste of it before we stayed there during the Games when we played at Wembley.

The first competitive match was against Senegal at Old Trafford the evening before the Opening Ceremony in London. There was a full house and we knew Senegal would be a decent side. I was nervous but I knew I was going to enjoy it. Being round the young players brought the best out of me. I liked being one of the senior pros. I embraced that.

I spoke a lot in the changing room before that first game. Ryan and I were given a lot of responsibility. It was a great experience all around. The crowds were more generous than they are in league football so Senegal got a lot of applause when they came on as well. It wasn’t like football, really. It was so refreshing to be involved in.

The opening game went well for me. We got a free-kick after nearly 20 minutes that Ryan swung into the box. Senegal couldn’t clear it and it bounced out to me about 10 yards from goal. I hit it first time, down into the ground, and it went into the corner. It was Britain’s first goal in an Olympics for 52 years. I had to come off near the end after I took a bang on the knee and Old Trafford rose to give me a standing ovation. That was a novel experience for me. I thought ‘I’ve seen everything now’.

Senegal equalised in the end but it wasn’t a bad point and we knew we would get stronger. It was a decent start and most of the reaction was positive. The only thing that seemed to concern people was that the Welsh players had not sung God Save the Queen when it was played before the match.

I’d made a point of grabbing the Welsh players – Neil Taylor and Joe Allen (Aaron Ramsey was on the bench) – before we lined up and making sure we all stood together. I didn’t include Ryan in it because he was captain and he had different responsibilities.

But I wasn’t going to sing the national anthem and nor was any other Welsh player. It’s not our anthem. I sing one anthem and that’s that. That’s my country’s anthem. I’m not being anti-English or anti-British. It was just the way it was.

A lot of people were offended that we didn’t sing. I can understand that. It was a difficult situation. But you have to remember that we took some stick in Wales just for playing for Team GB. It was important to strike a balance. If we had sung the anthem, that would have been a step too far. You have to be respectful to the people of your country. The problem is that the British anthem is the English anthem. It was impossible to get around that.

The other point I wanted to make to the Welsh boys was that we were not just representing our country here, we were representing Speedo. He had given us this opportunity. He had given us the platform to play for our country and to excel. So don’t just think about how well you’re going to play or what the score will be, just remember we are here to honour his memory, too.

The next match, against the United Arab Emirates, was at Wembley. We stayed at the Olympic Village and this time it was packed out. The game was another great experience. Wembley was full and expectant and I set up our opening goal with a cross to the back post that Ryan headed in.

The UAE equalised but goals from Scott Sinclair and Daniel Sturridge gave us our first win. I was substituted again and this time I got an ovation at Wembley. It was almost as good as being applauded at Old Trafford. Then it was to Cardiff for the last group game against Uruguay. I knew we wouldn’t lose there. Ryan was on the bench so I was named captain which was an unbelievable honour.

Uruguay had players of the calibre of Luis Suarez and Edison Cavani and we knew we needed a draw or better to go through. In the end, we won the game with another goal from Sturridge on the stroke of half-time.

That meant a quarter-final against South Korea and another game in Cardiff. It was getting exciting. We were feeling stronger and stronger and everyone was talking about the prospect of a semi-final against Brazil and the chance of winning a medal. But South Korea were a good side. They took the lead and then Aaron Ramsey missed a penalty. He made up for that by scoring from the spot later to equalise.

I came off with six minutes of normal time to go. South Korea stayed calm and solid. In extra-time, it looked like they were playing for penalties and when the shoot-out arrived it became clear why. We scored our first four but they scored their first five and they were some of the best penalties I’ve ever seen. Every single one of them seemed to go in the top corner. They were unstoppable.

That left Sturridge needing to score to keep us in the Olympics and the goalkeeper saved his kick. He got some criticism later because he marched off the pitch and wouldn’t accept it when teammates tried to console him. Did people expect him to be happy?

I saw how upset he was and I went to speak to him in the changing rooms. I told him he was going to have a great career. I told him moments like this would help him in the long run. I told him that as soon as he left the changing rooms, he had to let it go. I wouldn’t have said that a year earlier. I probably would have blanked him.

So the adventure was over. It was time for real life to intrude again. I had one last chat with Brendan Rodgers during the Olympics. I liked him immensely and I wished I could have gone back to Liverpool to play for him but I had to come back to Cardiff.

I wasn’t coming back for one last shot at saving my marriage. That was gone. It was for my kids. I knew I couldn’t be away. I wanted to be here for them because I knew it was going to be a difficult period in their lives. If I just drove off up the road and ignored the situation, I might never be able to heal the wounds.

I wasn’t prepared to do that. I wished Brendan good luck and began to prepare myself for another shot at trying to get Cardiff into the Premier League.