Steven Gerrard: My Liverpool Story

by Gerrard, Steven

  Plans for the stadium had ground to a halt, players were leaving and the money was not being reinvested. In short, it was a nightmare. A constant headache. A worrying shadow was cast over the entire club to the extent that the threat of actually going out of business hung over us. We were front-page news as much as back page. My head was wrecked.

  I get angry and frustrated when I think about how Liverpool Football Club lurched towards High Court battles off the pitch and slipped down the Premier League on it.

  We were in Spain for a pre-season game against Espanyol in the summer of 2009 when it became clear to me that we were going to struggle. Xabi Alonso had left to join Real Madrid for £30m and the club would not be reinvesting all the money from his departure in the team. The banks needed some of it. At the time, I was thinking there is no player in the world who is going to come in to Liverpool and be as good as Xabi had been, so to then find out that we couldn’t use all of the proceeds from his sale was a blow. Alberto Aquilani joined from AS Roma for £18m, but he came with an injury and never really settled. He is a good player, but he’s not Xabi.

  That night against Espanyol, we were poor. Sometimes in pre-season, you dismiss the result as meaning nothing, given the games are primarily exercises in boosting fitness. But I looked at our squad that night and looked at how other teams were strengthening and I knew we would struggle to finish in the top four that season.

  We went out of the Champions League in the group stages and were off the pace in the Premier League once again. We were immersed in a cycle of mediocrity on the field and open warfare between the supporters and the owners off it.

  The situation was such that, when you are captain, you think: ‘Do I get involved in this or stick to playing?’ When you walk out of Anfield 45 minutes after a home game and there are still thousands of supporters in their seats protesting against the owners of the football club it is a desperately sad sight. Liverpool Football Club, as I knew it, felt as if it was slipping away.

  No one – certainly not the fans or the players – wanted Hicks and Gillett any more, but they were hanging on to the club for grim death, aware hundreds of millions were riding on whether they could sell it or not.

  I knew that was wrong. I knew they needed to go, but I thought long and hard, most days if not every day, about whether me coming out and saying something publicly would help the situation?

  I totally understand that people thought, ‘Gerrard is the captain. He should come out and say something. He knows what is happening can’t go on.’ Behind the scenes me and Jamie Carragher were constantly asking questions and saying this needs to stop, but we are not the type of players to go and do exclusives in papers and add fuel to the fire.

  It was a delicate situation. Apart from the fact that it’s hard to think of any other workforce around the world coming out and attacking the people who own the institution they work for, I wondered what me slagging off Hicks and Gillett in the national papers or on Sky would have achieved. Would it have brought about a solution any quicker? I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it.

  There was also the fact that when I was asking questions behind the scenes, people like Rafa and managing director, Christian Purslow, were telling us they were taking care of things. Players can influence matters on the pitch, not in the boardroom.

  In the end, I was just relieved that all the mess was cleared up and that the club won its case in the High Court in October 2010, forcing Hicks and Gillett to sell. They had taken Liverpool to the brink, selfishly putting themselves first and willing to risk the longevity of a club that is adored by hundreds of millions of people around the world.

  Our most important result of the season came that day, not least because as a player it meant I could focus on playing football again. Inevitably, I suppose, I am more sceptical and cautious of the club’s new owners, Fenway Sports Group, simply because of what went on under Hicks and Gillett. Once bitten, twice shy.

  That is not particularly fair on John W. Henry, but it is not a bad thing either. Liverpool cannot be allowed to suffer again like it suffered under Hicks and Gillett. So far no one can say FSG have not made money available for signings and I know for a fact that they are trying their best to resolve the stadium issue, whether we should stay or move from Anfield, despite facing all sorts of complications.

  Time will tell if they are good owners or not.

  * * *

  “Liverpool Football Club, as I knew it, felt as if it was slipping away.”

  * * *

  EL NINO

  It seems strange to admit it now, but I had doubts about whether Fernando Torres would be a success at Liverpool.

  Two things came into my head when he signed in the summer of 2007 for £20.5m from Atletico Madrid. I thought he could bomb because he would not be able to cope with the intensity and physicality of the Premier League having come from Spain and it would be another expensive mistake in the transfer market for the club. But I desperately hoped he would be the signing to take us to the next level. And what a signing he proved to be.

  During his hot streak for Liverpool over the next few seasons, Torres was easily the best player I have ever played with in my career. I loved him.

  I used to walk onto the pitch every single game convinced I was going to set up a goal for him or score myself. Sometimes I didn’t. Mostly it seemed I did. I knew it was going to happen because Fernando was with me out there. At times, I felt invincible with him in the team alongside me.

  In the first training sessions after he arrived, I recognised that his movement was very similar to that of Michael Owen. I thought to myself that I used to love playing with Michael and quickly came round to thinking my initial doubts had been stupid.

  Torres was like Michael, but with more power. Sometimes if you played a difficult ball to Michael, the defenders were too big for him and they would win it back. Torres would make bad balls look good. That is how strong and powerful he was. He was a nightmare for defenders, but an absolute dream for me. I used to sit next to him in the dressing room because the pegs for our squad numbers – 8 and 9 – were next to each other and we’d talk like team-mates do.

  I wouldn’t say we were overly close. Torres is a really quiet person, although it would be wrong to call him a loner. He was comfortable with the Spanish lads we had in the team like Pepe, Xabi and Alvaro Arbeloa, and the South Americans like Javier Mascherano, but we had a mutual respect of each other and we worked out pretty quickly that we needed one another to shine. He knew that if he made a good run, I would find him, but he also helped to make me become a more potent player as well.

  I owe Rafa Benitez a great deal for my development as a player. When Rafa was appointed I had played right-back, and I had also played on the right of midfield from time to time, but I was essentially a box-to-box central midfielder. Rafa helped to make me a more disciplined midfielder and taught me how to time my runs better, which helped me get more goals.

  When I went onto the right flank, although I didn’t feel totally comfortable out there, he helped me become a good player there as well. I realised about the sacrifices you make for the team because at that point Liverpool were better setting up with two holding midfielders and, without sounding big-headed, I was enjoying a spell where not being in the middle did not unduly affect the level of my performances.

  After that, Rafa helped me become a ‘No.10’ – someone who plays behind the striker – which I didn’t think I even had in my armoury. I think the key to my success in that position was Torres. I always need to play with someone who can run in behind defences.

  I played the odd game there with Dirk Kuyt and Peter Crouch, but that was different. I was the one who had to run in behind and I had to try and get their flick-ons. It wasn’t the same. Torres would stretch defences, wreaking all manner of havoc, and that gave me space to exploit as well. Together we scored 111 goals in 117 games. Prolific.

  The only downside was that we didn’t win anything together. My boyhood c
lub is Liverpool. Torres’ boyhood club is Atletico Madrid. He left there in search of trophies and though we reached the semi-finals of competitions, we fell short.

  It became obvious that he wasn’t happy at Liverpool, but his departure in 2011 still hit me hard. Very hard. Every player is entitled to do what they want to do in their career. I don’t own anyone else’s career and I can’t make decisions for them. But when you love playing with someone and you have a player alongside you of Torres’ calibre, then you cannot help but feel sorry for yourself and the fans who adored him. You wonder where the club is going if the best players want to leave, but I didn’t feel let down by Liverpool.

  There was nothing they could do to prevent him from leaving for Chelsea. His mind was set, but they made it as hard as they could for the £50m deal to happen.

  In the days before the transfer, Torres came to see me as captain. He said he wanted to leave, but added that the club was being difficult. ‘Listen,’ I said. ‘You have to understand that you are a top player and they don’t want to let you go.’ It didn’t matter. He asked if I could speak to Kenny Dalglish, our manager, on his behalf. That put me in a difficult situation because I didn’t want to help Fernando. I didn’t want to tell the manager that the star player wanted to go because, at that point, I wanted the deal to fall through. I wanted Chelsea’s interest to go away and for his enthusiasm to be rekindled. We had just signed Luis Suarez from Ajax for £22m. Money was available. We were trying to compete for silverware.

  Fernando had told Kenny himself, but, with the club still playing hardball, he asked me to speak as well. I just told Kenny he was unhappy and left it at that. That is the role of the captain that people don’t see and that I never want to experience again. You don’t want your best player to come to you and say, ‘I’ve had enough. I want to go to another club. And I want to go to one of your major rivals.’

  When Fernando approached me and said he wanted out, it was like a knife to the heart.

  * * *

  “Torres would make bad balls look good. That is how strong he was.”

  * * *

  Another Footballing Temple

  * * *

  I have scored seven career goals against Newcastle, a tally bettered only by my record against Aston Villa. St James’ Park – it will always be known as that for me – is a great stadium. The fans are proper football supporters. If the club is going through a hard time, they still turn out in their droves. I’m glad they are in the Premier League and doing well.

  Equalling Owen’s Record

  * * *

  I don’t really compare myself to the likes of Michael Owen and Ian Rush where goal records are concerned because I have probably played in more games than them, or scored against weaker opposition.

  Of course, it is flattering to hold records at Liverpool. Here a penalty against FC Porto allows me to match Michael’s tally of 22 European goals for Liverpool. I would go on to set a new record a few weeks later when I scored against Marseille, scrambling home a loose ball after Steve Mandanda had saved my initial penalty.

  Stevie on the Spot

  * * *

  Keeping my nerve from the penalty spot became a feature of our run in the Champions League that season. We played Arsenal in the quarter-finals of the competition and after a 1–1 draw at The Emirates we fought out an enthralling battle at Anfield. When Emmanuel Adebayor made it 2–2 on the night, 3–3 on aggregate, with six minutes left we were staring at elimination. Ryan Babel earned a penalty straight away and it was up to me to dispatch the chance and reassert our authority. The pressure was on. All I could do was pick my spot and hope. Although Manuel Almunia went the right way, the penalty was too precise for him.

  A Kiss for Good Luck

  * * *

  The Champions League in 2007–08 was nerve-shredding. We almost went out in the group stages, but clambered off the canvas, scoring 16 goals as we won our last three matches to qualify.

  Then we played Inter Milan followed by Arsenal to set up another showdown with Chelsea. After beating them twice before in semi-finals, we were aiming to maintain our lucky streak.

  Flying High, but Soon Grounded

  * * *

  We had conceded an advantage at Anfield when John Arne Riise scored a last-minute own goal to allow Chelsea to leave Merseyside with a 1–1 draw. It was a physical battle at Stamford Bridge, one that ebbed into extra time after Fernando Torres had cancelled out Didier Drogba’s goal in normal time. But it wasn’t to be our year. Chelsea prevailed before losing to Manchester United in the final in Moscow.

  Collector’s Item

  * * *

  You won’t often see me taking a throw-in for Liverpool. Not unless we are in a rush, desperately trying to get a goal, or I’ve been tackled by the touchline and I can see a team-mate in space. I am usually stationed in the centre of the pitch so a lot of the throw-ins are taken by the full-backs. When Fabio Capello was England manager, he would hate players simply throwing the ball down the line where a rival could challenge for it. Capello wanted throw-ins taken to a team-mate, and for possession to be kept. It sounds nit-picking, but it makes sense.

  CHANGING LANDSCAPE

  It will be a miracle if I now realise my dream of winning the title with Liverpool and of hoisting the League Championship trophy towards the Kop. I know that sounds stark when it is written down and read out loud, but I am not soft. I’m not giving up, but I’m realistic and I am honest. Simple as that. Liverpool will rescale the heights one day, but, on a personal note, time is against me now.

  One of the first pieces of advice my dad gave to me was that if you always do your best at something then no one will complain if, in the final reckoning, it ends up not being good enough. I would give my left arm for a title winners’ medal, but if at the end of my career I have fallen short I know it will not have been through a lack of trying from me or my team-mates. We have been close and it is not too long ago that the core of the Liverpool team was as good as anyone in Europe.

  I’ve spoken about the impact Fernando Torres had on my game, we had Carra at the back, and there was another person who contributed to the success of our partnership and that was Xabi Alonso.

  He was a magician in midfield. The hub of everything we attempted. Every time Alonso’s name comes up in conversation, people will instantly say: ‘fantastic passer’, and he is. I would have so much time on the ball because invariably Alonso would find me and do it so quickly that the opposition did not have time to react.

  But despite the cleverness and speed of his passing, that was not the most obvious thing that struck me about him. Actually it was his work rate and his toughness. Xabi is a tough, tough boy.

  So when you look at the spine of the team we had for a few seasons, you could not help but be impressed. Pepe Reina, probably the best goalkeeper in the world for a spell after he signed; Jamie Carragher, who between 2004 and 2010 was one of Europe’s best defenders; there was Alonso, who has proved himself to be one of the best passers year after year after year; and alongside him was the Argentina captain, Javier Mascherano, clearing up all the mess and doing all the unheralded work.

  I was enjoying my football and playing well, and in attack there was Torres at the very top of his game. One chance, one goal. I revelled playing alongside those players. It is open to debate, but in my mind that spine was better than the core group of players who won the Treble in 2000–01. It was just that the overall team wasn’t as strong. If we had been a bit more astute in the transfer market around the time when Alonso was pulling the strings and Torres was scoring for fun, then that team would have won the league.

  No doubt about it, we fell a bit short, but I don’t think anyone has an argument with me that the core of that team didn’t deserve, or wasn’t good enough, to win the league. We finished second to Manchester United in 2009, three points off the top, but despite that small margin, it always felt as though it was a struggle to keep up. Rafa used to say to us all the time: ‘Focus on
the next game. Just the next game.’ But when you haven’t won the league before, you lack the experience to do that, and you start looking ahead and thinking, ‘If we win this game and they don’t win that and if that happens. . .’

  You can’t help but get carried away and dream. That is the difference between, say, Liverpool, and Manchester United and Chelsea. I hate to say it, but you can add Manchester City to that now, too. They have won the hardest title they will ever have to win because they now possess the know-how and the experience to do it all over again. You can’t buy that – even with all the money they have at their disposal.

  So it didn’t happen for us again and when you are at the coal face, you cannot blame anyone but yourselves for not pulling it off. We are responsible for getting results and we fell short. There is no use in pointing fingers, but, at the same time, you cannot help but look back and think ‘what if’. Liverpool provided funds initially and you can’t ask a club to go out of its comfort zone in a financial sense just to make a player happy. The sad thing is seeing how that team has fragmented, although to be honest you have to expect it with foreign players and you can’t afford to be too emotional towards them when they do move on. Look at Mascherano. He had the chance to go to Barcelona and I don’t know any South American in the world who doesn’t want to play at the Nou Camp.

  Xabi Alonso had his own problems, which began when Rafa wanted to bring Gareth Barry in and move Xabi on in the summer of 2008. I don’t blame Xabi for then getting his agent to see what was out there. It is hard for a Spaniard to turn Real Madrid down, especially when the manager had tried to sell Xabi when he was settled at the club. When some players move they go on about how they are huge Liverpool fans and why leaving is ‘killing’ them. Xabi was genuinely gutted to go. He loved the club and believe me when I say he is a true Liverpool fan. Before every big game he has I will text him and wish him good luck. He does the same to me. A great player, but a great lad, too.