Wayne Rooney: My Decade in the Premier League (19 page)

*****

By January, Liverpool are still top of the league. I know I won’t be able to take it if that lot nick the Premier League off us. If that happens, all the money in the world won’t make my bad mood go away.

A January afternoon. I’m sitting at the kitchen table at home, aching from a morning’s training session.
Sky Sports News
on the telly, the sound turned down. All of a sudden the cameras cut to Liverpool. The manager, Rafa Benitez, is about to give a press conference. Nothing strange about that, it’ll be the usual chat about injuries, most probably; suspensions, some January transfer window stuff. But hang on, Rafa’s pulling out a scrap of paper from his pocket as he starts addressing the journalists in the room.

What’s going on here? Is he jacking it in?

I grab the controls and turn the sound up.

‘… I think they are nervous because we are at the top of the table …’

He’s talking about us
.

‘… During the Respect campaign – and this is a fact – Mr Ferguson was charged by the FA for improper conduct after comments made about [referee] Martin Atkinson and [ex referee] Keith Hackett. He was not punished. He is the only manager in the league that cannot be punished for these things …’

What’s he banging on about here?

I walk closer to the box. Rafa’s still reading from his scrap of paper.

‘If he wants to talk about fixtures, and have a level playing field – as you say in England – (then) there are two options if we don’t want more problems with fixtures. One is the same as in Spain, (where) the draw for the first part of the league is known, everyone knows which weekend (they are playing). In the second half everyone plays the opposite, so you all know. Sky and Setanta have the right to choose their games and it will be the same for everyone. So Mr Ferguson will not be complaining about fixtures and a campaign against United.

‘Or there is another option. That Mr Ferguson organises the fixtures in his office and sends it to us and everyone will know and cannot complain. That is simple.’

Eh? Don’t be soft …

‘We know what happens every time we go to Old Trafford (with) the United staff. They are always going man-to-man with the referees, especially at half-time when they walk close to the referees and they are talking and talking …’

He’s on a flippin’ roll now
.

‘… All managers need to know is that only Mr Ferguson can talk about the fixtures, can talk about referees and nothing happens. We need to know that I am talking about facts, not my impression. There are things that everyone can see every single week …’

I can’t believe it.

Facts, my backside
.

The people at Sky flash the Premier League up on the screen.

Proper facts
.

Well, Liverpool are seven points clear of us (though we’ve got two games in hand) and I know that, right now, they should be focusing on the second half of the season – the business end. Instead, their manager is talking, moaning about fixture issues and referees to the press. He’s reading out a list of so-called ‘facts’ about how United apparently hassle the league’s refs, and how we moan about the fixtures. At this very moment I think:
Liverpool probably won’t win the league because The Manager has got under Rafa’s skin; we’ve got under Liverpool’s skin
.

And also, it’s a load of rubbish
.

Everyone knows Rafa’s clutching at straws here. The fans and the Premier League officials won’t fall for any of this stuff, surely? Maybe he wants to intimidate the Premier League’s refs into giving decisions against us? Maybe he wants to turn the media against us? I’m not sure. What I do know is that his players will be disappointed when they get together at training tomorrow. I know I would be if I was playing for them. If there’s going to be any damage caused by Rafa’s rant on the box then it won’t be inflicted on United. It’ll hurt Liverpool Football Club and their players instead.

It’ll backfire
.

They’re losing it
.

We’ll be fired up after this
.

*****

The next day, The Manager doesn’t mention Rafa Benitez to anyone at the training ground because he doesn’t have to. Everyone’s talking about it. And we’re all laughing.

‘The best thing was the sheet of paper with his notes on!’ shouts one of the lads in the dressing room.

‘He’s gone too far …,’ says another.

But when The Manager gets into us on the pitch – working us hard in a practice game – the laughing and the joking stops pretty quickly. It’s business as usual. No one’s talking about Rafa’s facts anymore because The Manager wants us to concentrate. He knows we’re all fired up, that the psychological edge is with us, and that the important thing is to focus tactically.

He’s obviously built up a lot of experience when dealing with situations like these over the years, especially at the end of the season when every point seems vital. And while I’m not sure if he genuinely likes getting involved in mind games with other gaffers, I do know that he’s good at it. When other coaches try to unsettle United, or unsettle him, he’s so experienced that he can switch those tactics around. He can put pressure back on another team with a sharp sentence in a press conference or post-match interview, which is obviously a great help for us when it comes to winning league titles. The fans only have to look at what happened to Kevin Keegan and Newcastle in 1995/96 when The Manager rattled them.

The edge is with us now
.

Rafa’s done his job for him
.

We can win the league again …

*****

We smash Chelsea 3–0 and the result strengthens our position in third place.

We beat Wigan 1–0. I score in the first minute to push us into second.

When Berba scores in the 90th minute to win the game against Bolton for us 1–0, we go to the top of the table. Everton, West Ham, Fulham, Blackburn and Newcastle are all taken down before we meet Liverpool at Old Trafford on 14 March. We’ve already lost to this lot at Anfield earlier in the season (2–1), but that’s because their place is always a
tough ground to go to for any team, anything can happen. But this time, at Old Trafford …

We get well and truly battered
.

We start well, Ronaldo scores a penalty, but then the wheels fall off and Liverpool respond by scoring four. Vida gets a red card and Torres runs us ragged as we push them in an attempt to score goals. They pick us off on the break and when we sit down in the dressing room afterwards, licking our wounds, The Manager looks a bit shocked. He can’t believe we’ve been beaten 4–1. There’s silence. Nobody moves for half an hour. It’s horrible.

*****

The night before the Pompey game, April; United still top of the league. Because I’m sent off in the 2–0 defeat at Craven Cottage (when the ref thinks I’ve thrown the ball at him), I miss the 3–2 win over Villa and the 2–1 victory at Sunderland. By the time I come back into the starting XI, the whole squad are readying themselves for another massive game: Pompey at home, a midweek match.

As always, the team gets together in a Manchester hotel on the night before the game and we’re shut away from the world. Downstairs in the hotel bar, the evening is going on as normal for everyone else: a gang of people are having their work night out; fans are here from all over the country for the game. Some lads are obviously going to a fancy dress party and are waiting for a taxi in the foyer. One of them is dressed as Dracula.

We’re totally cut off up here. Most of the guests in the restaurant downstairs probably haven’t got a clue that there’s a squad of Premier League players staying at the hotel because everything we do tonight takes place away from the public. Dinner and team meetings happen in function rooms where nobody can see or disturb us. If we watch a late game as a team on the telly, it’s done in a suite well away from the other guests, or in our bedrooms. It’s the same deal week in, week out. Everyone knows tomorrow night is a big match, so the trick is to keep the routine as normal, and as peaceful, as possible.

Footballers are funny about routine. We want our timetables and schedules to stay the same before every game. Team dinners, meetings, coach journeys: the routine can’t be messed with. I need to know exactly what I’m doing and at what time. That way I can get my body and mind right. I need to know when to relax. I need to know when to eat my tea. I need to know when to sleep.

What I really want to know, though, is where everyone’s going to watch the Liverpool v Arsenal game which is being shown on the telly. I wander down to a bedroom where the physios are working on Michael Carrick, Edwin van der Sar and Jonny Evans. Everyone’s lounging around, their eyes fixed on the plasma screen where the game is playing. Next door, Berba is watching the match on his own, sat on the edge of his bed like a fan.

For the next 90 minutes it’s a cracking game. Liverpool have to win if they’re to put any pressure on us in the title race and it’s an end-to-end match. Goal after goal flies in.
Arsenal’s latest signing, Andrei Arshavin, a Russian striker, is having an absolute blinder, he’s scored a hat-trick. The score is poised at 3–3 in the 90th minute and …

Bloody hell! He’s only gone and got a fourth!

The whole room goes mental. Everyone starts jumping on Edwin van der Sar who’s having his back rubbed; Berba starts banging on the wall, he’s shouting and cheering in his room next door. We’re all jumping around the gaff like little kids, like we’ve scored the goal ourselves.

In the celebrations we almost miss the fact that Liverpool pull the game level in the dying seconds, but who cares? A draw is no good for them tonight, they’re at home.

We’re one step closer to winning the title and we haven’t even kicked a ball in anger
.

*****

The following morning I look at the newspapers. The Premier League table tells me that we’re joint top with Liverpool on 71 points, but we’ve still got two games in hand. Two games we have to win.

*****

After the draw with Arsenal, Liverpool fall away in the league; we go until the end of the season unbeaten:

Pompey, 2–0

Spurs, 5–2

Boro’, 2–0

City, 2–0

Wigan, 2–1

Arsenal, 0–0

Hull, 1–0

Winning the Premier League this year is extra special because it means we’ve matched Liverpool’s league titles in the football history books. To win any title is great, but to win an 18th, a feat that puts us level with them (while beating them to the league at the same time), is a special feeling for us all at the club, but as an Everton fan, it feels dead satisfying. It would have been a nightmare to have seen Liverpool win the league; I don’t think Evertonians or the Manchester United fans would have heard the last of it, not for a long while.

Least of all, me
.

I’m finding that winning these trophies isn’t enough though. Once I’ve got a trophy, I’m always thinking about the next because I want to win more. I don’t even look at my medals after I’ve won them. I haven’t picked any of them up since I put them away in a room in one corner of the house.
I don’t know why. I know I never want to lose them, but I’ve never got them together, admired them and thought,
Wow, I’ve got a Premier League winner’s medal or a Champions League medal
. Maybe that’s because I’m desperate to win more, or maybe I’m just dead greedy.