sherm Posted January 26, 2009 Share Posted January 26, 2009 Chapter 1 - That's just me People say I was a failure in my playing career, that I should have achieved more. Personally, I can't see where they get that view from. I retired under a black cloud in 2001, aged 32, after what I thought was a pretty good career. I played for three clubs, making over 500 career appearances, winning three Domestic Titles, two Domestic Cups and a European Cup, aswell as winning 76 caps for England. To me, that's successful... I started at Everton when I was 15, signing on as a schoolboy. I turned 16 shortly afterwards, and made my debut when I was two weeks short of my 17th birthday, making me Everton's youngest ever player (a record later taken by Wayne Rooney). I was always a big lad for my age, and when I made my debut I was a 5'11, 15 stone midfielder. Stamina and Long Distance running was my forte, so I never had problems lasting in games. I was a hard working, box to box midfielder, and many say that I was the first player to adopt the 'holding role' before it became so prominent in the modern game. I didn't score too many goals (though I do have a couple of spectacular ones in my collection), and often I went unnoticed after going quietly about my business, but if you ask the fans of any side I played for, I was priceless. I stayed at Everton until I was 22, making a starting spot my own, but after 180 games for the club, I was sold to Bayern Munich for £750,000. There, I really came to the fore, winning two titles in six years, aswell as a European Cup in 1995. 227 games, but the most inspiring thing to me about my time in Germany was my record of games played and missed. In six years, I missed just 2 games. I was very lucky with injuries through my career, very rarely suffering from any, and that prolonged my playing as long as possible After 407 career games, with Everton and Bayern, and aged 28, I was on the move for a third time, and I felt that at my peak, I had a lot to offer. Manchester United had come in for me, and after their £3.5 million bid was accepted, I move to Old Trafford in 1997. At the time, I had competitors in the midfield at United, but I was confident of my own ability. However, what I didn't know at the time was that Alex Ferguson had every intention of stopping my lifestyle that had been so 'infamous' through my career. It was no secret that I enjoyed a drink, I hadn't hidden it. I felt I didn't need to. I did my business on the pitch, didn't go out boozing 48 hours before a game - but there had always been a doubt over my commitment. Quite frankly, it ****ed me off, and big time. I was always first into training the work the booze off that I'd consumed, and I was always fully committed on the field Ferguson put a ban on drinking three days before the game. Fair enough, but when he pulled me aside and said he wanted me to cut down altogether. I told him that although I may be under contract, he couldn't tell me what to do. We had private rows, public spats, and at United I was dropped from the team more times than I ever had before. I firmly believe that, even though I won a Premiership and two F.A Cups at Old Trafford, my reluctance to comply with Alex's regime restricted me to 94 games. After one final spat, I had heard enough, and stormed out of the club. 48 hours later, I retired from the game, but to retire under a cloud was not what I wanted. 501 games, 46 goals, and now my career was over. --- Authors note ; This will be written in an autobiographical style, based on a character called Stephen Markham, and a story that I have been working on for some time. On FM08, 8.0.2 Database, with all English, all Spanish and the top divisions from Scotland and Italy loaded. It's based on a created side, F.C San de Pol do Mar (or Sanopolo), who I placed in the Spanish 2nd Division, although the footballing part of the story will be a while away yet. I want to delve into the character, really explore him, and hopefully you'll enjoy the story Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
sherm Posted January 26, 2009 Author Share Posted January 26, 2009 My personal life was always up for question, but to be honest, I never let it bother me. I dated countless women, many of them successful, famous women. My longest relationship, if that's the right word, was with actress Helen Carter. We met at a film premiere in 1994, when I was just starting to get into my career, both with England and Bayern. From that point, we had a 7 year relationship, high profile as it was, and ironically enough, I retired six weeks after we split. We started well, but to be honest, all the media attention was too much, for me more so than Helen. I look at the footballers now and wonder just how they cope I now can hold my hands up, and say, from the bottom of my heart, I never took any illegal substances. Ever. Yes, I smoked, and yes, I was offered many times to take the likes of cocaine, ecstasy, and other illegal substances, I never did. My career was important to me and I didn't want to jeopardise it by doing something stupid. I have to say though, I did do some stupid things in my lifetime, and possibly the most stupid was when I was at Bayern Munich. I had been there six months, established myself in the side, and myself and some of the other lads went out one night. It was a good night, quiet, a few beers, when suddenly, a German bloke starts hurling abuse at me. He called me all sorts, an English bastard, a Nazi lover, all sorts. I ignored it, but when he started abusing my girlfriend - that was it. I dragged him outside and absolutely hammered him. I was fined four weeks wages (about £80,000) by the club, and was given a warning of GBH in court (with the reasoning that I was provoked) --- I was born in Manchester, on a council estate in Moston. My mum, Pat, and my dad Richard were a good couple by all accounts. They had their fights but as couples, we all do don't we really. The only thing my mum got annoyed about was the old man's tendency to go on two or three day benders and not come home. He had a season ticket at Maine Road, and every Friday night he would stay at a mates house after a boozy night, drink all day Saturday and watch the game, before often strolling in Monday morning. Mum used to give him a right rollocking, and I used to sit there and think '**** me, I don't want one of them' The estate was a little place we called 'The Miners', thanks mainly to the fact most of the men who lived there were in the Mining trade at some point. We had a little grass patch opposite the pub, and when our parents went in there, the kids would play football on the grass. I was always at the hub of things, setting up the games, picking the teams, and refereeing too. The fact I was the best player meant the rest of the lads wanted to take me out, put in a hard and fair tackle, so I soon learnt to be tough. As soon as I was old enough, I joined Moston Juniors football team, where I played against older lads (although I wouldn't say bigger, I had my dad's brickhouse physique at this point) It was my passion, I loved playing, the feel of a washed kit, boots on your feet, the ball fizzing to you. Brilliant. We were a decent side, getting to four Cup finals and winning the League three times, and I even earnt a call up for Manchester Boys side, which my dad celebrated by getting the lads round to get ****ed. It was playing for the Boys in a County Cup match that I was spotted by Everton, and I still remember the scout coming over to me like it was yesterday "Good game son, you worked hard today" "Thanks. I worry nobody ever notices what I do on the pitch" "Believe me, I've noticed a few times" That was that. The scout was Ronnie Jones, who I liked straightaway. He offered me a trial, not a contract, which I knew he couldn't offer. I jumped at the chance, and within two weeks, I got to train to Liverpool. I was 15, had never ventured beyond Manchester into the big wide world. I was ******** myself, to say the least. At Goodison, I trained hard, ran like a whippet and worked my ******** off for two days, until finally, the trial game came around. The pressure was on, with no crowd, but I thrived on that. I was brilliant, had a cracking game, and there and then I was offered a YTS contract. At the time, I had £30 a month to spend, here were Everton, a massive club, offering me £60 a week. £60 a ****ing week. I was thrilled to bits, signed the contract after speaking to my mum and dad on the phone, and realised I was living the dream. I was off home to pack my bags, before returning to Liverpool a few days later. This was the big time Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
sherm Posted January 30, 2009 Author Share Posted January 30, 2009 Starting at Everton, in 1984, I was excited, and couldn't wait to be a part of what I considered the life to be a part of. I was prepared to clean boots, and as it happened I cleaned to boots of Peter Reid and Kevin Sheedy. Both men befriended me, gave me advice, always spoke to me, and for that I was grateful. I later learnt that it was Reid who suggested I take his place in the team for my debut, something I was unaware of at the time. What annoyed me the most though, was the way the reserve team and younger players moaned. If they weren't included in the team photo, that was a bad sign, and suddenly the manager was useless, the coaches were wankers. It got to me big time. I remember a reserve team player, Paul Horrocks, who had lost his place in the team and struggled to get it back. He was a right nasty swine, who used to kick the living daylights out of your in training. The younger players were scared of him, but I though 'Sod this, I'm not having that' and gave it him back. He hated that, didn't like it at all. I was happy to do the donkey work that came with the YTS scheme, as I knew that eventually, my chance would come I remember the day it did, I was jogging round the pitch at the start of training, getting warmed up, when Kevin Ratcliffe, the club captain at the time, shouted me over. I jogged over to Kevin and he put his hand on my shoulder before delivering a blunt statement "Get your gear and be outside in fifteen minutes, you're going to Nottingham" I was shocked, I didn't know what to say. I did as I was told, and when I was sat on the bus with the team, it hit home. I was a boy among men. Big Neville Southall, Andy Gray, Gary Stevens. They all gave me warm smiles, said hello, but stayed with their own groups. I was going for the experience, to savour the first team atmosphere, and I was determined to make the most of it. I had decided to make myself useful, and asked the kitman if he needed help putting the shirts out. He accepted it, and as I laid out numbers six and seven, Howard Kendall strolled over to me with a look of bewilderment on his face. "Stephen, what are you doing?" "Helping boss" "Well grab a number 4 shirt, you're playing" Hello. I was in shock for the second time that day. I was playing? At Nottingham Forest. Jesus, what have I done to deserve this? As we walked down the tunnel to the pitch, the older players were wishing me good luck and asking me my name, a nice gesture. The thunderous atmosphere didn't phase me, I never expected it to, but I had butterflys the size of eagles in my stomach We were beaten 2-1, but I thought I played well, laying off Kevin Sheedy for the cross that led to our goal, and when Howard took me off with ten minutes left, the small section of our fans applauded me, and the manager gave me a slap on the back. It was a day that lives in my memory - you only get one debut after all, and I have the shirt, signed by the team and manager, hung and framed in my front room. I remember phoning my dad after the game, and his shock was evident. His first question was 'How did it go son?', and for fifteen minutes, we discussed my debut --- Two days later, I walked onto the training ground, and was immediately pulled into the managers office. I walked in, and the manager was just removing his shoes, which were caked in mud, so I assumed he had taken his dog for a walk "How are you son?" "Fine boss" "Well played on Saturday, I watched you closely and you did well" "Thanks boss" "Give those a clean for me son" I knew what Howard was doing, and I knew why he was doing it, but I didn't argue. This man had gone with his instinct, against all the 'experts', and thrown a 16 year old kid into his debut in a tough division. Looking back now, I realise that I owe everything I now have to Howard Kendall. He was the man that gave me my chance, my dream, and I will never ever forget that Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Syzz Posted January 30, 2009 Share Posted January 30, 2009 Sherm, i like ur way of writing, but dont forget to update ur other story's to as im excited to see how "Tick" get's on. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
sherm Posted February 2, 2009 Author Share Posted February 2, 2009 Cheers Syzz. I'm glad you're enjoying the story, but unfortunately there won't be any more updates on Tick, Tock..., as I've had to change laptops thanks to the old one blowing up on me --- Chapter 2 - Women, Booze and The Beautiful Game As I've said, I enjoyed a beer in my younger days, and it got me into a lot of trouble. The first time it did was when I was just 18, and established in the Everton side, so the older players decided to take me out into the town centre for a night on the razz. We headed out, and for a few hours we had a brilliant night, dancing, drinking, and nobody bothered us. In line for my favourite post-drinking meal, a kebab (not very healthy I know), I heard some talk behind me "That's the chubby lad at Everton. He does **** all on the field, don't know why he plays" I knew I should have left it, but the alcohol came raging to the fore and I snapped. It took both Kevin Ratcliffe and Neville Southall to pull me off, and when I walked into training on Monday, I was hauled in and fined two weeks wages (around £1,400 at the time). Many say that my temper and ability to booze was part of the reason the club sold me, but I'm not so sure. Still, I can only figure out that I should have learnt my lesson It was also around this time that I discovered that being a high profile footballer, women took a keen interest in you, particularly me, due to my young age. The first time I experienced this was at a party, which wasn't a club event. It was a social house gathering (I think it was a friend of a friend's birthday, and I went along) Within half an hour, I was recognised, and I had up to six girls at one time around me. It was all a bit daunting, but once I got used to it, the fun really started. That night I ended up having sex with three different women, and my mates used to tell me their ability to 'pull birds', as they used to say, went up tenfold when I was there. Once I had a taste of the lifestyle, it was all I could think about. I didn't want to let that go I did however, embark on two rather serious relationships, the first of which began in 1988, when I was 19. I had seen this girl a couple of times, and had immediately been struck by her flaming red hair and gorgeous figure, but I hadn't thought anything of it. It turned out that she was a friend of Kevin Sheedy's sister, and the next time we were in the same room, Kevin introduced us and we started talking. She was 20, a year older than me, but we got on well. After several hours, she gave me her phone number, and we had arranged a date the next day. Her name was Joanne Perkins, and within six weeks of dating her, I was in love. I look back now, and I curse myself for what I put her through, and in those six years together, I should have treated her better. We do still keep in regular contact though, for the simple reason of our daughter, Michelle. Joanne fell pregnant in 1991, and I promised her I would support her and the child. When Michelle was born, I was so happy. She's 16 now, and if you asked her and her mum, I think they would say I've been a good dad. Joanne is happily married now, and I'm pleased for her. I even gave her away, which was a moment I was proud to do. I also am pretty sure Michelle would tell you I'm an over protective dad, which I have no problem with. I was her age once, I know what lads are like. It's for her own good, and her mum feels the same. --- People ask me who the most influential figure was in my career. They expect me to say Howard Kendall, and while Howard was a massive help to me, they are shocked when I tell them the answer. It was Franz Beckenbauer. The 'Kaiser' was one of the best midfielders of his time, a real general on the pitch, and when I moved to Bayern Munich from Everton, he really helped me settle in in those early days. We struck up a great friendship, which remains to this day, and his constant advice and constructive criticism was a major factor in the fact that my best years, in terms of trophies won, were in Germany. I look back with fondness at my career, but by far my best moment was the 1995 European Cup win. We had started slowly, scraping through in qualifying, but once we hit the final rounds, we destroyed the competition. I'm told by Franz now that in the final, I was awesome, dictating the pace of play, winning tackles, and without me, Bayern would not have won. We did win, 1-0, thanks to a 76th minute goal from yours truly, and to lift that European Trophy was a moment I can be proud of. However, I always wanted to lift a trophy with England - I always felt we were good enough, but we just never performed in the major tournaments, being knocked out twice in semi-finals and twice in quarter-finals. The Nearly Men, as we so often saw in the newspapers. We should have achieved more as a nation, I am sure of that Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Syzz Posted February 2, 2009 Share Posted February 2, 2009 I like I like, keep em coming, u got me hooked now. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
sherm Posted February 3, 2009 Author Share Posted February 3, 2009 In Germany, I encountered trouble for the simple fact I was English, and both sides had been at war for years. One such incident very nearly cost me my career, and my personal life too. I had been at Bayern for two seasons, and the fans had started to warm to me, which was something that was a big moment in my career. The club's end of season presentation was compulsory for all players to attend, and although I didn't plan on staying long, I turned up all dressed up. I had a chat with the team, spoke with several club officials, and was about to leave at 10.30 when Gunther Glock, one of the Directors, approached me "Stephen, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Rebekka" I wasn't up to pleasantries, but I tried my best, was nice, and bought the young lady a drink. As it was, we got on well, had a good chat, and I ended up talking to her until the early hours. I invited her round for a coffee (Joanne was back in England visiting her parents) and we spoke until the morning. I gave her a kiss goodbye, on the cheek, and a hug, and showed her to the door. Nothing had happened, it was just two adults enjoying each others company, but the newspaper people outside had obviously gotten wind of this, and putting two and two together to make thirty, they snapped photos of us together and of Rebekka leaving the house The next day, in training, I was hauled in front of an angry looking Board of Directors to plead my case and explain the scenario. I was honest, explained the truth, and with Rebekka backing up my side of things, I was eventually allowed the benefit of the doubt. However, I had been threatened with suspension, termination of contract (among other things) until I had proven my innocence. This was my first real incident with the press, and I was amazed at how they worked. Always hounding, looking for a story, and it was something I became very wary of in later years --- To say mine and Joanne's relationship was perfect would be, quite frankly, a lie. We did argue, and we argued a lot, over the smallest little thing. I remember one day we needed a new cot for Michelle, so I went and bought one, and we argued over the size of it. Her major gripe though, the one major problem she had, was that I enjoyed going for a drink too much. I would play on Saturday (or Sunday in Germany), go for a few drinks after the game, get up, go to training if we had it, then go out after that. She reckoned we never spent enough time as a family, and to be fair to her, she's right. I see her and Michelle more now than when we were together, which is pretty shocking to be honest. I can honestly say, and may God strike me down dead if I'm telling a lie, that I have never ever raised my hand to a woman. I shouted, I screamed, I ranted, but never did I hit any woman. I vowed never to do it when I saw my dad hit my mum. It was awful, and I stood there watching. I was 6 years old. He did it for a further 8 years, until one day, I'd seen enough. At 14, I was a big lad, like the old man, and when he went for my mum that time it was the last time he ever did. I grabbed his arm, spun him round and threw him against the wall. His eyes told several different stories and hid several different emotions. Fear, Anger, Shame and Anguish. He went upstairs and cried for hours. My mum cried for hours too. We all did. He was never the same again after that, and my relationship with him was never the same. He died four years later, just six weeks after we had rebuilt out relationship. I was gutted, and carrying his coffin was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Anybody who's gotten close to me will know how much that day hurt me inside In Germany, it was tough at first, a 22 year old English lad signing for one of the world's biggest clubs. However, I made a friend over there who has remained a life-long friend ever since. Wayne Cordwell, or 'Clubs', was living over there at the same time, and on my first night in Munich, I bumped into him in a bar. Literally. So, imagine my surprise when I heard a gruff Yorkshire accent apologise. We got talking, found out a lot about each other, and remain best friends to this day, 17 years later. His nickname of 'Clubs' comes from his passion for golf, a game he taught me how to play, so much so in fact that I now have a better handicap than he does. His wife, Petra, is a lovely lady, who he met in Germany, and his two sons, Peter and Wayne, are both cracking lads, Peter actually being a decent footballer and on Everton's books. I learnt early on in life that you know who your friends are by how much they are there when times are hard. Wayne's been there through it all. So for that Clubs, I thank you Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Syzz Posted February 9, 2009 Share Posted February 9, 2009 Keep going sherminator! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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