Simp-Lee the Best

by Lee McCulloch

  One of the things Billy was really big on was diet and health. For example, he’d fine you £100 for every pound you were overweight. We were weighed at least once a week, sometimes twice. I’d have breakfast and lunch at the club and then two salad rolls for my dinner at home. I was usually quite hungry at night but I was scared to eat pasta or raid the cupboards for biscuits or crisps in case I went in overweight the next day. Simply, I couldn’t afford to pay the fine and thankfully I was never once overweight. Sometimes it felt tough and unfair, but it was a great learning curve and education for me. Billy drummed in that I had to make sure my preparation for the entire week was spot on, that it didn’t just start on a Thursday morning or a Friday lunchtime. He wanted every player to make sure that come kick-off time on a Saturday we had done everything to be in the best possible condition, both physically and mentally. Now that, of course, didn’t guarantee we’d have a great game but it gave us a much better chance of performing to a high standard.

  That triggered my whole outlook on fitness and diet along with, I suppose, my dad being in the Navy, where everything was quite regimented. From the age of nineteen or twenty it became an obsession. Still is. Because of it, I’ve always felt fit. I’ve never really gone into a game feeling my preparation hadn’t been good. Sure, sometimes I’ve felt low in confidence, but rarely, if ever, felt as though I could have prepared better.

  Billy’s training was tough but it was good. We trained twice a day two or three times a week and it was always enjoyable. It was good coaching and there was a big emphasis on technique. He wanted every player to finish each day feeling they had learned something new and improved their game. In my first year under Billy I performed well.

  Off the park, things were also good. The players loved Boyle. I certainly had loads of time for him. He paid most of the players very good wages and offered brilliant bonuses. I have to say some of the money on offer for winning Cup ties was absolutely ridiculous but totally welcomed by the players. One example that springs to mind was a deal negotiated by the players with John Boyle during a winter break in Portugal in January 1999. A scheme was put in place that resulted in us getting £9,000 per man for beating Hearts and Stirling Albion in the Scottish Cup fourth round. We were used to a maximum of £400 for a win.

  Billy also had other employees on a bonus for us doing well on the park. Office staff and other workers were on a bonus, not the same money as the players but a few extra quid for them come payday. It meant the whole club was pulling in the same direction; it was a proper team effort, from the dressing room to the laundry staff and groundsmen and beyond.

  I enjoyed having a few extra quid. I treated my parents to a few nice things and bought myself a car, a Peugeot 306. Things were progressing and my performances under Davies were being noticed outside of the club. My game was going well and I was making a bit of a name for myself in Scotland. One day, sitting in the house in November 1999, the phone went and it was a Scottish journalist sounding me out about a possible move to Celtic. He told me that Kenny Dalglish, Celtic’s Director of Football, was very keen on me and wondered what my thoughts were about joining the club. Now, I was a huge Rangers fan and my family loved Rangers and had absolutely no feelings for the Parkhead club whatsoever. I was totally taken aback by the conversation with the journalist and told him that I would speak to Celtic if they had a bid accepted by Motherwell. Truth be told, I was really excited about it, mainly because the legendary Kenny Dalglish rated me as a player. I was told I would be kept informed and that Kenny Dalglish would speak to Celtic’s Head Coach John Barnes about making a move for me.

  As soon as I came off the phone I went into the living room and relayed the whole conversation to my dad. Well, the look I received from him … honestly, it was as though I’d just told him I’d been arrested for murder and was looking at a life sentence in jail!

  As it turned out, Barnes was sacked in February 2000 after Celtic lost at home to Inverness in a Scottish Cup tie and nothing more ever came out of that conversation with the journalist. But I was making headlines. The newspapers had me linked with several big clubs down south during that November. It was reported that Leeds, Spurs, Portsmouth and Middlesbrough had all sent scouts to watch me. I never heard anything official about it but it was a nice feeling to think clubs in England were aware of my ability.

  A concrete bid of £1 million arrived that month from Hearts. It was the third bid they’d made inside a fortnight after the previous two were turned down. I heard about it one day on the radio. In fact, the report stated I had signed for the Tynecastle club. I knew nothing about the bid, never mind actually becoming a Jambo. When the news broke I was on my way through to Fir Park to play against Hearts. I was twenty-one at the time and it felt very surreal to hear my name being talked about on the radio this way and to be valued at £1 million. Honestly, it was crazy stuff. £1 million for me? Do me a favour. I felt it was ridiculous money. A packet of crisps and a can of Irn-Bru felt more appropriate. I went into the game in an apprehensive mood. My mind was all over the place, to be honest. It was live on Sky television and we won 2–0. I scored the first goal and it was a tremendous feeling.

  As we walked off the pitch at full-time, Pat Nevin, who had come on as a sub but was also our chief executive, pulled me aside to say that I was not to worry because Motherwell wanted to keep me. That made me happy because I wasn’t sure if Motherwell felt it would be good business to cash in on me. I didn’t particularly fancy a move to Hearts but I would have gone if it was necessary for Motherwell to bring in funds. I felt Hearts wouldn’t have been a step up. I had also set my sights on playing in England. Hearts boss Jim Jefferies later told me how disappointed he was not to have signed me.

  John Boyle wanted to show how much he wanted me to stay by flying me to London the next day to discuss the offer from Hearts. I was told that if I really wanted to go then he wouldn’t stand in my way. Over dinner, we discussed the offer but he made it clear that if I pledged my future to Motherwell he would double my wage packet immediately to £2,000 per week and I wouldn’t even need to extend my contract. It was a no-brainer. We shook hands on the deal. It was yet another surreal experience for me being in London with John, at his home in Notting Hill to be precise. He showed me all the sights and took me to a few of the locations used in the movie Notting Hill. We even sat on the bench used in the film where Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant had a romantic moment!

  Boyle opened up on his grand plans for Motherwell Football Club and it struck me how driven he was to challenge the Old Firm. The grand plan was probably to form a Lanarkshire United Football Cub. The impression I got was that he was considering trying to merge Airdrie and Motherwell together and possibly Hamilton Accies, too. I was happy to be staying at Motherwell but Boyle told me he expected me to keep improving so that sooner rather than later the club would get a good transfer fee for me.

  One other thing we negotiated on was me receiving a percentage of any future transfer fee the club received for me. Boyle didn’t have a problem with that and we shook hands on it. We discussed a cut of around 20 per cent but my mum and dad were in a council house at the time and they were able to buy it for themselves for £18,000. I told Billy Davies and John Boyle this. They said they’d give me the £18,000 right away if I agreed a reduction to around 5 per cent of any future fee. I was happy to do that. Everyone was happy. My parents were now able to live rent-free. I was buzzing because it was great to be able to give my mum and dad something back after all the sacrifices they had made for me. I was very grateful to Motherwell for giving me that money at that time to help look after my parents. It was a lovely touch from Boyle.

  I continued to work hard and I really wanted that move to England. Spenny kept telling me to be patient. My game continued to come on leaps and bounds under Billy. He was a great man-manager and also a very conscientious coach. Every now and again, after training he’d ask to have a word in private and he’d take me out onto the pitch and we’d walk aroun
d, asking me how I was feeling, how my parents were, that sort of thing. We’d also talk about the game, whether it was the previous Saturday or the next one coming up. He made me really think about my role on the pitch and what I had to do to keep improving. A couple of times a week he’d take me for one-to-one training sessions, just wee finishing drills where he’d talk me through movement into good areas when we had possession and when we didn’t have the ball.

  He created a togetherness in the squad. The lads loved playing for him and there was also a new attitude around the place. Boys volunteered to do extra training, whether it was with the ball or just a weights session. The boys wanted to have a six-pack they could show off! The football we played was really good and there was a real confidence at the club. There was also a good social scene and although the gaffer was teetotal, he didn’t have a problem with the boys having a right good drink at the appropriate times.

  We also had a great atmosphere inside the club. Wind-ups took place all the time, and I remember wee Spenny caught me with a cracker. The politician Tommy Sheridan was a friend of the gaffer’s and Tommy liked a game of football. I think he fancied himself as being good enough to have made the grade. He came in for a training session now and again and back then I didn’t know who he was. He joined in the warm-up one day and I asked wee Spenny who the new guy was. Spenny was on to it quick as a flash and sensed an opportunity to get one over me. He told me that it was a new trialist over from France and that he was a striker. Spenny introduced him to me as Pierre le Blanc and Tommy played along with it. I was trying to give it a bit of ‘Bonjour, je m’appelle Jig McCulloch’ and stuff and spoke very slowly, trying to make the bold Pierre feel welcome – even though he might have been there to take my place. That said, I didn’t think he was up to much. I wasn’t overly concerned. Then, ten minutes later during a wee game, Pierre shouted to me, ‘Hey, Lee, any chance of passing the fucking ba’ to me, big man?’ I was done. Hook, line and sinker.

  The boys had another good laugh with me during my 21st birthday party at one of the Fir Park hospitality suites. It was a surprise do organised by my parents. All of my family, friends and team-mates turned up. I had to go up and make a speech. I was really nervous and didn’t want to take to the stage but I gave in. I took the microphone and thanked everyone for coming, especially my dad twenty-one years ago! And that was it. I walked off. My mates and brothers were in stitches but some of the family were a little bit embarrassed! Still, it was right good night.

  But the best feeling was finishing as top scorer in the 1999-2000 season on twelve goals. We finished 4th in the league that season. Strides were being made on all fronts. Considering I wasn’t a ‘proper’ striker, I was really chuffed with my goals return. I was given the no. 9 jersey to wear the following season, as some kind of reward, I guess.

  In 2000-01 the football continued to go well and clubs monitored me. There was interest from Bradford City – Jim Jefferies was manager there at that time – but it was Wigan Athletic that showed the most determination to get me and a bid in excess of £700,000 – a club record for them – was accepted by Motherwell in late February 2001.

  Billy had me in his office and told me he didn’t want me to leave and that he wanted the club to reject the bid. But he was resigned to me going; however, he wanted me to get a few quid for myself from Motherwell because of the fee they were to receive. It was then I witnessed an uneasy relationship between Pat Nevin and the gaffer. The players had long felt there was tension between them. It must have been strange for both considering Pat was the chief executive and Billy was manager. It was obviously near to impossible to have a good working relationship as there would have been a conflict of interest in so many different ways. Billy and Pat had a bit of a ding-dong about my money, if my memory serves me. Despite the fact I had been given the £18,000 for my parents’ house, I was also given £20,000 to go and another £20,000 a few months down the line once Wigan had paid the second instalment. I made fantastic money. I couldn’t have been happier.

  I owed a lot to Billy. He gave me the information and knowledge to play as a central striker. He taught me about movement, when to take the ball in, when to spin and when to lay it off. He taught me about how a target should play and also the defensive side of my game when playing as a striker. He gave me videos of Alan Shearer to take home and study. He urged me to bulk up my frame in the gym and get fast-feet drills going to improve my burst of pace over five or six yards. He also added mental toughness to my game. I’ve never, ever worked so hard on my game as I did during that eighteen-month period. It was brilliant. It was as if Billy had made me his project and he was going to make sure it did not fail. He wanted me to get a move to England and he seemed just as delighted as me when it happened.

  I was sad to leave Motherwell, but, for a number of reasons, it was time to go. I needed to test myself at another level and Motherwell got good money for me. Indeed, Billy’s parting words will never leave me. He shook my hand, wished me all the best and said that it was the right time for the club to sell me. They were going to get more than £700,000 for me and that would help pay for the club’s new stand. Billy said he was going to call it ‘The Lee McCulloch Stand’!

  I did leave with a heavy heart and took ten minutes alone in the stand, looking onto the empty pitch. I recalled my first goals against Hibs and visualised all the great players I had played with, that had helped me become a professional footballer and that wonderful opportunity I was about to be given in England with Wigan Athletic.

  I used to badger the likes of Alex McLeish, Andy Watson, Tommy Coyne, Rob McKinnon, Brian Martin, John Philliben, Owen Coyle, Dougie Arnott, Jamie Dolan, Jim Griffin and Phil O’Donnell into teaching me about the game, giving me a few minutes here and there to help me progress. In my early days I was just a teenager and impressionable. On reflection, they must have thought I was a bit forward and in their face, but I just wanted to show a desire to learn my trade. It all worked a treat. I left the club having played twenty-nine games and scored nine goals for them in that season. My final game for the club was on 24 February 2001 and we defeated St Mirren 1–0. It was a nice way to bow out.

  It was time for me to leave Motherwell. I loved the town and the club but I felt increasing pressure at Motherwell because all my pals supported the club and I never wanted to let them down. And it was difficult to please the fans. Anywhere I went in the town people would recognise me and want to speak to me. I was in the newspapers a fair bit by this stage and I felt the publicity was a bad thing for me. It was as though everybody wanted to scrutinise everything about me on and off the park and focus in on any possible negatives. The ‘local boy done good’ story fits well with a lot of people but some people, for whatever reason, don’t want to see people prosper and move on. Maybe it’s just a Scottish thing. Billy Connolly uses the analogy that if he walked into a bar in his home city of Glasgow and offered to buy everyone a drink then he’d be accused of being a flash bastard, but if he didn’t offer to buy drink then he’d be a tight-fisted bastard. Colin Montgomerie said if he had a nice car parked in the street some people would rather run a key along the side of it than compliment the vehicle and how hard he’d worked and how dedicated he’d been to be able to buy it.

  On a couple of occasions it caused problems for myself and my family. My brothers and close mates kept on top of things and looked after me and they were all very good for me at that stage of my life. It was the sort of thing where some guys would come up to me on the street and try to have a go, give me some verbal abuse. It was nothing out of order but it did make me feel uncomfortable. Had I retaliated in any way then there would have been occasions it would all have kicked off. It was good to know that my brothers and my big cousin, Derek Anson, always had my back and looked out for me. That was comforting.

  5

  WHELAN AND DEALING OUR WAY TO THE BIG TIME

  MY MOTHERWELL team-mate Stevie McMillan was also going to sign for Wigan. It was a double deal. We
were picked up at Cumbernauld Airfield in Wigan owner Dave Whelan’s helicopter and flown down south. I felt like a movie star and it was all very exciting. But I was also nervous and constantly questioned myself if I was doing the right thing. I had spoken to a few people about moving to England and the feedback was mainly positive but reservations were expressed about going to play in the English Second Division. The game in the English third tier was more physical and no prisoners were taken. The skill level wasn’t as high as the SPL and that’s probably why a number of people said to me I was taking a step backwards by going to the old English Second Division.

  I understood why people with no knowledge of the workings of Wigan and their plans for the future would think that way. But I knew what the ambition was. My good friend Ged Brannan had signed a few weeks earlier from Motherwell. We were close. He kept me in the loop and raved about the club. He told me in no uncertain terms to make sure I joined him at Wigan. To be fair, I didn’t need a lot of convincing.

  A 25,000 all-seater stadium had been built and Dave Whelan was going at it full tilt. He wanted to get into the Premiership as quickly as possible and was willing to throw millions and millions of pounds to realise his dream. On arrival the helicopter hovered over the stadium to show us the ground and then we flew on to the training ground. We then landed on the JJB grounds next to the stadium and got down to talks. Whelan and the club’s general manager John Benson gave me the sales pitch and I totally bought into it. They spoke to me for an hour or so and by the end of the meeting I felt like it was Manchester United I was signing for.