Men in White Suits

by Simon Hughes

  Thompson felt Moran’s wrath on a number of occasions.

  ‘I’d just got into the first team and it was winter. All the senior players were wearing jumpers because it was cold. I hadn’t been issued with one because I was still considered a reserve. So I had to go out and train in my shorts and T-shirt. Before the session started, I went to put a jumper on and straight away Ronnie was on to it. “Oi, take that off, you’re not a big ’ead yet, lad.” I stood there embarrassed, thinking to myself, “Fucking hell, Bugsy, the Communist period’s over now …”

  ‘Later, I’d signed a one-year extension to my pro contract and I was sitting in the foyer at Melwood with a big cheesy smile on my face. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone because it was recognition for my efforts and a clear indication the club fancied me. Financially, it was also a big improvement. My first pro deal was worth £750 a week and this took me up to around £4,000. Carra was in there at the same time and the only thing we haggled over was the number of tickets we were entitled to for games, because we had big families and all of our mates wanted to go.

  ‘Ronnie walks past and goes, “What are you two dickheads doing ’ere?”

  ‘“I’ve just signed a new contract, Ronnie,” I told him proudly.

  ‘“What – they’ve given you a new contract? You’ve only been doing well for two minutes. You’re nowhere near good enough yet.” Then he jumped on the bus and left me there. I felt like I’d been buried in the ground.’

  Undeterred, Thompson enjoyed the trappings that came with being tagged as one of Liverpool’s most promising young players.

  ‘I used to love going out and getting recognized. It gave me a sense of achievement. It spurred me on. It was nice to feel that you’re appreciated, because it gives you that little bit of confidence. Ultimately, that’s what football’s about: having confidence and using it as a tool to do better. It can either push you on or undermine you. You need to have an ego to stand on a football pitch and perform in front of forty-five thousand people.

  ‘I wasn’t the best-looking kid on the block but being a Liverpool player enabled me to have my fair share of women. It was a great time around the city. You had a line of clubs on Slater Street. Then there was Quadrant Park in Bootle and the Paradox in Aintree. They’d opened off the back of the rave scene, which really thrived in Liverpool. It wasn’t as if we were out all the time, though. I wasn’t part of the scene. Week to week, day to day, it was just football. When I look back now, I ask myself whether I was too focused and too driven and too wound up.’

  While other players speak of the problems they had with ‘the bubble’ of Merseyside, in relation to dealing with the expectations of the fans, Thompson saw it as an advantage.

  ‘I always knew as a local lad that you can have a bad game but the fans would forgive you as long as you fought and were aggressive, although you’d never get away with doing that consistently. Eventually, they’ll start calling on you. I never felt extra pressure. But if we were playing Man U or Everton, there was an extra level of importance for the local boys to do well. You did not want to make a mistake that cost the game. That comes from understanding the situation a little bit more, the importance for the community.

  ‘The desire to push on and do well comes from within. It didn’t mean any more or less whichever club I played for, whether it was Coventry or Blackburn, I just wanted to prove myself to myself. Nothing beats stepping out at Anfield, though. Especially when the Kop’s singing your name. You emerge from that tunnel and you can see the fear in the other team’s eyes. You know they’re scared. The roar, that noise when it’s in full swing – it’s electric. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A couple of times I looked at Carra and we were both thinking the same thing: “How the fuck did we get here?” Two little scallies playing for Liverpool. It was mad.’

  Following a productive loan spell at Swindon Town, where he learnt ‘the true value of three points: you could see it on the faces of the dinner ladies on a Monday morning’, Thompson started a Liverpool game for the first time in February 1998 – a 2–1 defeat at Aston Villa. The previous summer, Stan Collymore had been sold to the club he supported as a boy and he promptly scored both of Villa’s goals. It was one of those results that undermined Roy Evans’ management.

  ‘Something wasn’t quite firing and maybe Roy felt like he needed to mix it up. He dropped Paddy Berger for me and I know Paddy was very upset about that. He spoke publicly about it and disrespected me, saying I was just a kid from the reserves and it was the lowest moment in his career. But I’d been around the first team for around two years by then. I’d played very well in training and in reserve matches for months. I deserved that chance. Unfortunately, I didn’t take it, because against Villa I performed poorly. I felt isolated and underprepared. Perhaps the moment had come too soon. I assisted in our goal but I gave the ball away too much. I was too nervous. The pace of the game was unbelievable and the pitch at Villa Park was massive. The crowd were bang up for it. It was a bad way to start.’

  Like most of the squad, Thompson found the short period afterwards where Evans and Houllier shared managerial responsibilities confusing. ‘You don’t know who to approach, who to talk to. Naturally, I’d go to Roy but I feared that might piss the other fella off. The players could see it was a marriage of convenience rather than something both Roy and Houllier really wanted. It wasn’t a healthy environment.’

  Soon ‘Houllier’ – as Thompson calls him throughout this interview – was in sole charge.

  ‘The discipline tightened quickly. There was a fine system. If you were late, bang – you got done. If you turned up in the wrong flip-flops, bang – you got done. I didn’t like being told what to do, especially in Houllier’s regimented fashion. What difference does it really make if we all wear exactly the same tracksuit top for an away trip on the coach? Houllier was hot on that. But he couldn’t make me do it. Wearing certain clothes wasn’t going to make me play better. It was draconian: rules for rules’ sake. Maybe it was what Liverpool needed to a degree but he took it too far. He wanted a group of squares: players without personality. He was particularly tough on the young ones like me. After a while, I got fed up with it, so I didn’t conform. I was anti-establishment.’

  Thompson says his frustrations were purely professional.

  ‘I’d been tipped to go all the way as a centre-midfielder and I was aware that I was very, very good. I was dominating the play: getting it, giving it, leading with assists, and getting forward having shots at goal. So I never understood why I ended up on the right under Houllier. I always seemed to be a seven or eight out of ten every game. Although I could be a nine, suddenly I was a six quite a lot. I didn’t enjoy it. Maybe it was Houllier thinking I wasn’t tall enough or quick enough. That pissed me off because I got pigeonholed. I was happy doing a job for the team but when things went wrong, I was the one getting singled out. It was unfair and bad management.’

  Despite featuring regularly in Houllier’s first full season, Thompson felt inwardly that Liverpool’s manager was considering replacing him.

  ‘You have to accept that at Liverpool the manager is always trying to find a way to improve. It is a club with a global following and they’re always on the hunt for the best players. I don’t think anyone can feel secure. It didn’t bother me if Houllier was said to be interested in signing foreign players, because you’d assume he’d know what he was doing on that front. His knowledge of foreign players was supposed to be good, particularly the French. But when I saw us being linked with young British lads it used to piss me off. Lee Bowyer was one. From 1998 onwards, it was suggested he’d move to Liverpool. It used to get on my nerves. I was thinking, “Why the fuck are we going for him? We’ve got me and Carra here. We’ve got Stevie and Danny Murphy. You’ve got a midfield right there.” Carra could play in midfield and scored on his debut there, of course.’

  As the 1999–2000 season reached its conclusion, it was rumoured that Nick Barmby was on the v
erge of leaving Everton for Liverpool.

  ‘That really irritated me,’ Thompson says. ‘Not only had Houllier pushed me out from my natural position but he was also planning to spend £6 million on someone who would perform exactly the same role. Barmby was another player who’d played in the centre before being shoved out wide. He was no better than me. It drove me crazy because I knew I was better than Barmby. I felt like I’d already done my stint on the bench and getting pulled off after sixty minutes was doing my head in.

  ‘I went to speak to Houllier with my agent and asked him straight whether he was planning to sign Barmby. I told him that I could have understood if he was trying to get hold of a winger with a proven track record, someone who was clearly a better player than me, because that’s how you improve as a team. When you sign players, they have to be better than the ones you already have. Barmby was not.’

  Although Thompson was offered a new contract, he was not convinced he would play.

  ‘I didn’t trust Houllier. Carra got a new deal on the same day and his terms were far better than mine. It revealed how much I was valued. Because Houllier was prepared to spend £6 million or £7 million on Barmby – a player from our nearest rivals – he’d be under pressure to justify that fee, so he’d end up playing him over me, a kid. Houllier was one of those stubborn managers who didn’t want to give anyone a stick to beat him with, so it was clear I’d be the one missing out.

  ‘I went outside to the car park at Melwood to clear my head. I flipped a coin. Heads and I’d stay at Liverpool; tails, I’d go. It fell on tails. So I went back in and told Houllier that I wanted to leave. Had he fought hard to keep me, I’d probably have stayed but he didn’t. At the end of the day, if the manager doesn’t fancy you, you’ve got to go somewhere else.’

  Within twenty-four hours, Coventry City had faxed a bid of almost £2.5 million.

  ‘Houllier said I could go down and speak to Gordon Strachan. I wasn’t really taken with the idea, because Coventry had struggled for a few years. I’d played really well at Highfield Road a few months before and we battered them 3–0. But when I met Gordon, I felt loved and appreciated straight away. It was quite astounding. Leeds, Everton and Villa all spoke to my agent but I was blown away by Gordon’s warmth and ambitions. He wanted me to become the main man in the centre of the park. The money was there and the money was right – the club made me their highest-paid player. So I agreed to sign for him there and then.’

  Thompson believes his career might have mirrored that of Jamie Carragher’s with a different manager leading the team at a crucial time for his own development. He thinks of a world where he’d remained at Liverpool. He thinks of a world with Roy Evans in charge or Steve Heighway, someone he believes could have become an ‘outstanding’ manager for Liverpool had the club offered him a promotion from the youth section.

  ‘I’ll be straight with you,’ he says. ‘I never rated Houllier. I could see through him. OK, later he won five trophies and that’s a fantastic achievement. He signed some good players. But he signed some terrible players. That list is endless. What he did was a short-term job. I didn’t like the way his team played. Teams can play that way and get success short term but never long term. It’s not an enjoyable way to play.

  ‘Yeah, Gérard had had his problems with me in terms of discipline – getting into fights – but I was filled with hunger and the desire to do well. It could have been channelled in a better way. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t think I’d have left Liverpool. He misunderstood me. I probably misunderstood him. There could have been a middle ground. I was sure I could play at the highest level, sure I could play at centre-midfield. But I didn’t feel he was being fair with me. If he had handled the situation better and been a bit more open-minded – as he claimed to be – he could have got more out of me, as other managers did.

  ‘Had a British manager been in charge – someone from a similar background – it wouldn’t have panned out like it did. From day one, I thought there was a language barrier and a cultural barrier between us and I don’t think he was willing to get over it. With a bit more time, I’d have matured like Steve Heighway said years before. But Houllier never considered that. And he didn’t listen as closely as he should have to Steve.’

  In appointing Houllier, Thompson says, the traditional Liverpool way of operating was abandoned.

  ‘When Steve [Heighway] released that group of us into the first team, Ronnie Moran took care of us, along with Roy [Evans] and Sammy [Lee]. The four of them talked a lot. There was a transparency about what they were trying to achieve. But when Houllier came in, Steve’s importance was dismissed. Houllier tried to take credit for Steven Gerrard coming through. Hang on a minute – Steve Heighway’s been guiding him for the last ten years but Houllier was bleating about his role in the last four months. It was unfair. Houllier wanted to score points with the fans all the time and protect his own interests rather than those of the club.

  ‘The danger with a foreign manager like Houllier is that they come in and the communication between the first team and the youth team breaks down. The youth-team manager remains the same and he’s already been through the process of highlighting the individuals that he believes can really be successful. The club tailors a programme to make sure they’ve done everything they possibly can to make that happen. Roy Evans had been watching us for five or six years. He knew us and had confidence that we could handle situations. Suddenly, the club changed the manager and, with that, the whole philosophy at youth level changed. It happens at a lot of clubs, it has to be said. New managers usually want to implement a new style of play. It feels like a lot of good work goes to waste because the kids have to learn a new style of play too. There’s no legacy from generation to generation or from manager to manager.

  ‘Liverpool fucked up with that and have done so a number of times. They went from a French manager to a Spaniard to an Englishman. Each one of them had different ideas. When you keep changing managers, cultures and nationalities, it confuses what goes on in the youth system because the coaches aren’t sure what they’re meant to be looking for in the long term. The Liverpool way was lost. It meant that the club couldn’t move forward. It’s remarkable that this was allowed to happen, because the foundations of Liverpool had been built on that philosophy of gradual evolution. Not a revolution every couple of years just because of a few lean results.

  ‘People ask why Man United had a lot of success over the years. They still brought in a lot of players. But the core was always there. The blueprint was always there. OK, a manager can come in like Houllier and get results as he did in the short term. But what are the results at the under-18 and under-16 levels – are these teams winning, playing good football? Do the players understand the requirements of the first team? The answer at Liverpool was no. The answer at United was yes.

  ‘I knew what the Liverpool way was. So did Carra. So did Michael. So did Stevie. You could have had a core of local players there representing the club for more than a decade, leading the team forward. Instead, Houllier didn’t like me or Robbie and [Rafa] Benítez wanted to get rid of Michael Owen and Danny Murphy. The education we had was priceless. But that education process stopped in 1998. It was bad for my career, while it was great for Carra’s career because he accepted the change. Maybe it worked out well for him because Houllier wanted to go defensive and by then he’d become a defensive player. For me, I had to change my game to fit in. I was being told to sit back on the righthand side and help the right-back out, rather than thinking about bombing forward and being creative. It was depressing, this rigid team block. I wasn’t accustomed to it. I wasn’t alone. I couldn’t believe the club would bring someone like Houllier in because he didn’t want us to play football like Liverpool. The way we played under him was boring. It was one-dimensional. There was no pass and move. It was never going to rebuild the empire.’

  Thompson accidentally commuted to Melwood rather than Coventry on at least two occasions in the weeks
after agreeing a move to the Midlands. He believes it was a subconscious reaction, as he didn’t want to leave. He admits, however, that being away helped him ‘grow into a man’ more quickly than he would have done had he remained at Liverpool. ‘You have to do the shopping, cook and clean for yourself rather than let your mum do it, as well as socializing and making new friends.’ Yet when he returned to Anfield for the first time in a Coventry shirt, the sight of Houllier made the old demons return.

  ‘I still had that familiarity with the club and it felt really weird. I ended up scoring a goal from twenty-five yards at the Anfield Road end. It was surreal. I didn’t know what to do. In the end, I shouted “Fuck off” to Houllier. The crowd heard it and the cameras picked it up. I felt embarrassed when I saw it on TV later that night. It was a moment where all of my anger and frustration bubbled up. Yeah, I had a good career and I’m very happy with how it went but it could have been better as a centre-midfielder. I know it could have been, because I’d always been the best player in my team when playing in that position. That’s where the anger came from. That’s why I told Houllier to fuck off, because my life changed when that man changed my position.’

  Thompson admits that it still upsets him, missing out on Liverpool’s 2000–01 campaign when, under Houllier, the Reds lifted the League, FA and UEFA cups, while qualifying for the Champions League. Despite Coventry’s struggles and a season that concluded in relegation, he was nominated the club’s best player, even though he was stationed, once again, on the right side of midfield.

  ‘I was being selected every week, getting ninety minutes and influencing the outcome of matches. Gordon knew how to get the best out of me. I wasn’t in the centre but he said to me that my crossing was as good as Beckham’s. I knew he was only saying it to convince me that playing wide was a good idea. Whereas I only got criticism from Houllier, Gordon made me feel as if I could be a success in another area of the pitch. I felt loved again, as I had at Liverpool before Roy left. I didn’t need love to perform well but I needed love to perform brilliantly. I reacted well to positivity. Not someone blowing smoke up my arse, telling me I was great; just someone telling me I was valued. I’d always been like that. If I didn’t feel appreciated, I wouldn’t hang around. At Coventry, I did.’