Steven Gerrard: My Liverpool Story

by Gerrard, Steven

  I was up against Patrick Vieira that afternoon and it was certainly a learning experience. In the future, I seemed to grow every time I played against him and get better, but back when I was younger he just knew where to be, what to do and if he had wanted to, it felt like he could have gone up a few gears as well.

  That we won after being second best for so long was remarkable, although when you have players like Michael Owen on your side the impossible becomes possible. It wasn’t a shock to me what he did that afternoon because I had seen Michael do it so many times before at so many different levels. Two chances, two goals. Game over. Freddie Ljungberg had wrapped one hand around the Cup for Arsenal with a goal in the 72nd minute, but Michael came good twice in five minutes after that to underline just how big a player he was.

  I had worked with him full-time since leaving school and I knew how mentally strong he was, how fierce he was, how much he detested losing, how much of a battler he was. Arsenal knew that too and still couldn’t stop him.

  Ordinarily, we would have partied long into the night, but there was the small matter of the UEFA Cup Final against Spanish side Alaves now looming. Two down, one to go.

  Liverpool went through the card that season, playing every single game – all 63 of them – as mapped out when the fixtures had been published the previous June. It was a slog, but what an experience.

  The UEFA Cup Final was played at Borussia Dortmund’s Westfalenstadion and what sticks out in my mind the most was how much Gerard Houllier wanted it. He was delighted to win the Carling Cup and the FA Cup and knew they were important milestones for the club, but he was desperate to lift the UEFA Cup.

  He was forever talking about European competitions and how hard it is to win a European trophy. I knew we wouldn’t let him down.

  It took ages to get into the ground because our supporters had taken over. They were literally rocking the bus as we weaved our way through the crowds, wishing us good luck, and you could see in the faces of Michael Owen, Didi Hamann, Markus Babel and players like that just how much they were up for it. Liverpool’s supporters had been unbelievable in Cardiff, but this was something else.

  We set off like a steam train and after Markus had given us an early lead, I crashed home a second goal following a great pass from Michael of all people. It was meant to be the other way round – me feeding him – but I didn’t mind that little bit of role reversal. When I get the licence to burst forward, I can be a goal threat in any game. I played on the right in Dortmund, but with a fair amount of freedom to go where I wanted because we had Didi and Gary McAllister holding in midfield.

  However, there was a pattern emerging to our appearances in finals that still holds true today. At Liverpool, we seem to enjoy making life difficult for ourselves.

  The scoring was crazy that night. Twice we threw away two-goal leads and then conceded an equaliser in the last minute to take the game into extra time. But even though it must have been torture for Gerard and our fans, I knew we were going to win.

  Sure enough, Gary McAllister’s free-kick was inadvertently headed into his own net by Alaves’ Delfi Geli for what was the ‘golden goal’. We exploded in celebration. An insane game to cap an insane season, but one I look back on with immense pride.

  Liverpool Football Club is about winning trophies and that season we put our names in the history books alongside the likes of Liddell, St John, Yeats, Dalglish, Rush and Souness.

  * * *

  “That season we put our names in the history books.”

  * * *

  Right Place, Right Time

  * * *

  A header against our neighbours from across the Mersey, Tranmere Rovers, helped to keep us on course for the cup Treble in 2000–01. The build-up to the game had been huge. John Aldridge, the former Liverpool striker, was the Tranmere manager and a few of their players had come out with the old ‘welcome to hell’ slogans warning that they would kick us off the pitch.

  We played well that day though, winning 4–2, and if you study the starting line-up, you’ll notice that Gerard Houllier picked eight British players in his first eleven. He knew it would be a physical battle to begin with and what his selection tells you is that even managers who sign a lot of foreign players know that in certain games they will find it hard to cope without enough home-grown muscularity.

  Diving Right In

  * * *

  Another diving celebration came after one of the best strikes I have ever hit. To score against Manchester United at Anfield is always special. To score past a World Cup winning goalkeeper such as Fabian Barthez is pretty special too. But when you put those two things together and add in the fact that the shot from 30 yards was still rising as it hit the top corner of the net, it makes it one of my best goals for Liverpool. To claim a win and three points meant it was a good day all round.

  First Goal in Europe

  * * *

  Gerard Houllier gave me licence to get forward into the penalty area from midfield and I knew Didi Hamann would hold the fort behind me if I fancied getting into the box. It is only when you start making those sort of runs that you add goals to your game. I should have scored a few more headers in my career, but my first European goal came from one in a 2–2 draw with Olympiakos in Athens in November 2000 in the UEFA Cup.

  Finding My Feet

  * * *

  The hurdles en route to our UEFA Cup success in 2001 grew steadily higher, but I loved every minute of it. Here, I am in action against Porto during a 0–0 stalemate in the first leg of the quarter-final. I found European games, especially those away from home, demanding but stimulating. The atmosphere was different, the pitch was new to me and I didn’t know too much about my opponents. In those situations, you have to step up to the mark and, over the years, we have done that at Liverpool in Europe.

  McAllister the Master

  * * *

  I admired Gary McAllister from the moment he walked through the door at Anfield and he remains a source of inspiration to me today. Gary is one of the reasons I believe I can carry on at Liverpool if I manage myself correctly and if the club looks after me. Gary wasn’t over-trained during his time at the club. He was fresh when he played and that enhanced his tremendous ability to influence games, and not just any games: huge games that shaped Liverpool’s history. That is what I want to do. I’m not saying I want to play until I’m 38 or 39, but I’m 32 and between now and when I’m 36, for example, I want to be able to have a big impact at Liverpool.

  Taking Aim

  * * *

  My first inclination when I get the ball is to pass it. If one of my team-mates is in a better position than me on the pitch, then I will look to find them rather than selfishly trying to dribble the ball. Technique is important when you are trying to pass accurately, and you can see from how my left ankle is bent over what sort of strain footballers put their bodies under. When you do that repeatedly, it is no wonder you get little niggles and pain in your ankle joints.

  Sweet Victory Over United

  * * *

  Winning at Old Trafford is always a cause for celebration and here I am with our goalkeeper, Sander Westerveld. Sander is one of the best goalkeepers I have seen with the ball at his feet. He was exceptional in that respect. But I felt he sometimes looked for an excuse if he ever made a mistake in a game. For me, it is better to say, ‘Sorry lads, that was down to me.’ He’d try to blame it on something else. When we lost at Middlesbrough once on a freezing day in December, he said there was ice on the ball and that had prevented him from gathering the ball properly. Despite that, he did well for us in the Treble season in 2000–01. He was a good keeper.

  The Ignominy of an Early Bath

  * * *

  The walk of shame is a long one and every yard feels like a mile. I’ve done it quite a few times, too many to be honest. On this occasion, I was sent off against Leeds United at Anfield in April 2001. I was given my marching orders for two bookings, although I will always contend that I didn
’t deserve either of them. David Batty, the former England midfielder, stitched me up, I felt. Liverpool versus Leeds was always a big match and the atmosphere was bouncing. In my view, Batty milked the contact from a challenge I made when there wasn’t too much there, and I paid the price. If it was a deliberate stitch-up, you can look at it two ways. Either he’s clever because he laid the bait and I fell for the trap he set, or you can say he was out of order. If I am injured I will stay down but, if he wasn’t hurt, I would never have done to him what I felt he did to me.

  Premature End

  * * *

  My first final for Liverpool came against Birmingham City in the League Cup in February 2001, and it set the tone for so many of those that have followed. We made desperately hard work of getting over the line and lifting the trophy. Robbie Fowler gave us an early lead with an amazing volley, but we couldn’t shake Birmingham off and ended up needing penalties to prevail. I was on the bench by then, having been taken off after 78 minutes.

  Unplayable Robbie

  * * *

  Robbie was captain that day and his volleyed goal from 30 yards was brilliant. He maybe wasn’t at his best when I played alongside him, but he was still very good. In training no one else could have duplicated some of the goals he scored because of the power he got into his shots with virtually no back-lift. His accuracy to hit the inside of the net from tight angles remains the best I have seen to this day. There were times when a game of 5-a-side would begin in training and after 10 seconds you’d be 2–0 down because Robbie had banged in two goals. Turn finish, turn finish. You’d be left thinking to yourself, ‘We might as well stop this now because he’s unplayable.’

  Calming the Pre-match Nerves

  * * *

  It is important to learn from your mistakes and I’m glad to say there was no repeat of the infamous white FA Cup Final suits of 1996 when we played in the final in 2001. Everything was a lot more toned down. Stephen Wright (far right) came through the ranks with me and Robbie, and Jamie Redknapp helped to look after us both during the build-up.

  In the days before a major final, you mentally prepare yourself for the game and the fact that we were playing Arsenal meant we knew we would have to be on our mettle. But before the game you can still be pretty calm and relaxed. It is only when you are in the dressing room that the butterflies and the nerves start and you realise exactly what is at stake.

  Late and Lethal – Michael’s Day

  * * *

  The faces say it all. There is joy written across all of our features, but surprise as well at having turned round a game we were second best in. Arsenal had taken the lead through Freddie Ljungberg and with seven minutes left we were still trailing at Cardiff’s Millennium Stadium, having not done ourselves justice. But that was Michael Owen for you. He could come alive in an instant and bang, bang he turned the game on its head. We owed him an awful lot that day.

  A Childhood Dream

  * * *

  As a kid I used to stay glued to the TV when it was FA Cup Final day. Afterwards, whoever had won, I would pretend to be one of their players in the street outside my house. It sounds a cliché but it was a dream of mine to win the FA Cup and, of course, you never think you are ever going to achieve it. It is an experience that’s difficult to describe properly, but it’s magical, that’s for sure. I have this picture in a room at my house together with Patrick Vieira’s shirt from the game. They’re in the same frame. A nice memento.

  Early Recognition

  * * *

  I played 50 games and scored 10 goals in the 2000–01 season and things could hardly have gone better for me. As well as the Treble, I won the PFA Young Player of the Year award. Team honours are always more important to me and I realised that without the support of my team-mates there was no way I would have been recognised. There are pitfalls to being lauded and showered with accolades, but I knew I had to stay on the straight and narrow and make the most of the talent I had. I wanted to win more trophies with Liverpool first and foremost, and if that led to individual honours, all well and good. Later on, in 2006, I won the PFA Players’ Player of the Year and to receive both awards in your career is an achievement I am proud of. Not many players have done that.

  Final Flourish

  * * *

  I am proud of my record of scoring in big matches. I’ve found the net in the League Cup Final, FA Cup Final and European Cup Final with Liverpool, and in the World Cup finals with England. The run started here in the UEFA Cup Final in Dortmund in 2001 when we beat Spanish side Alaves. My goal was something of a rarity because Michael played me in with a great ball. I have to say, it was about time he returned the favour! Over time my finishing has improved but when I got into positions such as this early in my career I just wanted to hit the ball as hard as I could. If a centre forward had had the same chance, maybe he would have placed it. But as a midfielder, who wasn’t used to having only the goalkeeper to beat, you tend to blast it – that is why I was so far off the floor. The game itself was another rollercoaster. We should have had it tied up in normal time, but let them back in and ended up winning 5–4 by virtue of a ‘golden goal’ in extra time. Winning all three cup competitions we entered that season often gets overlooked, but it was a fantastic achievement.

  GERARD MY HERO

  The night we lifted the UEFA Cup to complete our Treble season, I was ready to party. Gerard Houllier had other ideas.

  We still had one game left – away at Charlton Athletic – and one that would determine whether we would be defending our European trophy next season or rubbing shoulders with the big boys in the Champions League. This wasn’t the time for beers and champagne. Gerard put us on lockdown. He told us to be patient and then we could party.

  At the time, the lads and myself didn’t understand. We’d just written a glorious chapter in Liverpool’s history and wanted to be let off the leash. I thought the manager was being a killjoy and I didn’t appreciate fully how important the Champions League was at that point. But without him, we would not have qualified to join Europe’s élite. There is no question about that. If we as players had had our way, I doubt we would have won 4–0 at Charlton just a few days after the Alaves game and finished third in the table. As always Gerard’s professionalism shone through and he guided us over the line.

  When you consider how important Gerard was to Liverpool, then for him to suffer a life-threatening illness just three months into the new season was upsetting and worrying for everyone. We came in at half-time of a game against Leeds United at Anfield in October 2001 expecting him to be there as always and impart some more words of wisdom. Even when we were told he had been taken ill, I, for one, thought he’ll just get it checked and then he’ll be fine. It wasn’t until we spoke to the club doctor, Mark Waller, that we grasped just how serious the heart problem he had was.

  I was worried about what would happen to Gerard and then I worried about what would happen to us as a team. We had all been on an upward curve, winning trophies and making giant strides, and I did wonder if his illness would derail us and lead to us caving in. But his battle for health was the most important thing. I don’t know how all the players felt, but I missed him enormously. He had been there for me every day since I broke into the first team set-up and I missed his reassuring presence, asking how I was, giving me little tips, telling me what I was doing both right and wrong.

  It was typical of Gerard that he was sending text messages to the team as soon as possible and sooner than the doctors would have allowed had they known. ‘Keep playing well. I’m OK, I’ll be back soon’, were the sort of messages he sent. Again, it was typical of Gerard that he thought of others before assuring you that he would be OK. He was more interested in the team than himself, which is amazing really when you consider how his life was in danger. That is impressive.

  My concerns about whether our season would unravel without Gerard were unfounded and did not factor in Phil Thompson’s capabilities as coach.

  We
had a lot of foreign players in the squad – Sami Hyypia, Markus Babbel, Vladimir Smicer – and I suppose I wondered whether Thomo would be able to maintain the atmosphere and harmony that had built up between us all.

  We had just won the Treble, but already that season we had added the Charity Shield, beating Manchester United, and the European Super Cup, beating Bayern Munich, to our expanding silverware collection. It was a big challenge for Thomo to come in and take the reins alone, but he was brilliant and did an unbelievable job.

  You couldn’t challenge him because he had lifted the European Cup as captain in Paris in 1981 and won so many other trophies and titles that it was ingrained in him exactly what the club stood for. Anyone looking to pinch an inch and cut some corners in Gerard’s absence didn’t stand a chance and so we continued making strides.