by Mark Ward
I was glad I travelled to Hong Kong but the football was dire and it became just another piss-up for Mick and me. I made an excuse that I had to travel back home for family business and was never to return to fulfil my three-month contract.
I hadn’t been back in Liverpool long when I received a phone call out of the blue from another agent, Kenny Moyes, the brother of current Everton boss David Moyes. He asked me if I was interested in going to Iceland to play for a Reykjavik-based team called FC Valur, who needed an experienced midfield player to help get them out of trouble. They were bottom of the league at the time and had never been relegated before. It was only for the last few months of the season, so I agreed to go.
The club was professionally run and I loved the friendly people there. I had a perfect start on the field, too, when we beat the league leaders. The relief of the Valur players and directors was overwhelming. They prided themselves on having never been relegated and I felt that I could adapt to the team and help them achieve their goal.
Arnor Gudjohnsen, the father and agent of Eidur Gudjohnsen, was in the team and what a player he was even at the veteran stage. Capped 73 times for Iceland, he’d been a goalscoring hero for Belgian giants Anderlecht and also played for Bordeaux in France as well as a couple of top Swedish sides. This stocky, white-haired Icelandic legend was 18 months older than me and he knew the game inside out.
At that time Eidur was playing for KR Reykjavik and I remember watching him play – he was outstanding at that level and it wasn’t long before he signed for Bolton Wanderers, before going on to enjoy great success with Chelsea and Barcelona.
I’ll always have fond memories of my time in Iceland.Valur stayed up that season and I enjoyed being in a different place and experiencing the Icelandic culture. On my return to England, there was a new challenge for me much closer to home.
27. ANGER MANAGEMENT
FOR many of us who have played at the highest level, dropping down into the non-league scene is unthinkable. But I didn’t see it that way at all. I’d swallowed my pride before, when I was given the push by Everton at the age of 18 and rebuilt my career with Northwich Victoria. After my professional playing days were over and I returned from those overseas jaunts to Hong Kong and Iceland, I jumped at the chance to extend my playing days at two more northern non-league clubs.
In October 1998, I’d turned almost full circle by joining Vics’ longtime rivals Altrincham, playing 15 Unibond Premier League games, plus nine cup ties, for the Cheshire club. Alty lost only one league match in my first spell there and went on to win the championship that season but I wasn’t there to collect my medal. I’d left in the February following a fall-out with manager Bernard Taylor that came to a head after our FA Trophy defeat at Boston United.
As well as managing the team on match days, Bernard also ran the social bar at Altrincham but he wasn’t a football man as far as I was concerned. Despite going on to win the league, we were tactically inept and I thought he was out of his depth. In fact, on this particular afternoon at Boston, I told him to ‘Get back behind the bar, where you belong,’ and I left the club soon afterwards.
I moved to Lancashire-based Leigh RMI in October 1999 and my midfield contribution proved a key factor in their first-ever promotion to the Nationwide Conference at the end of that season. But, like Taylor at Alty, Leigh manager Steve Waywell was not my cup of tea as a manager. Another key member of the side that season was Steve Jones, a brilliant right-winger from Londonderry who was quick and went on to enjoy spells with Crewe Alexandra and Burnley as well as gaining 29 full international caps for Northern Ireland.
I recall Steve once having a go at ‘Jonesy’ at half-time and what he said was utter nonsense. He told him: ‘You’re getting caught in two-man’s land’ when, of course, he meant to say ‘no-man’s land’. I use that as an example of some of the embarrassing things he’d say to the players.
There was talk of me being offered the role of coaching assistant at Hilton Park the following season but a much better alternative had already presented itself. Instead of staying with Leigh RMI and looking forward to playing for the Railwaymen one division below the Football League, in May 2000 I received a more attractive offer – to take over as Altrincham’s player-manager.
Alty had just been relegated from the Conference under Bernard Taylor when chairman Gerry Berman approached me to get them immediately promoted back to the top tier of non-league football. I didn’t apply for the position – Gerry just phoned me one day and asked if I fancied the job.
Taylor was to stay on as general manager but it was made clear that he’d have nothing to do with the playing side. As far as I was concerned, he could get back to looking after the nightclub at the ground, although the Taylors no doubt had influence behind the scenes at Moss Lane. Bernard’s son, Anthony, was ominously on the Altrincham board of directors.
I treated this new millennium chance as a very important first step on the managerial ladder. If I could be successful with Alty, then it would obviously bode well for future jobs higher up the League pyramid. Dealing with players and men has always come easy to me and, from my own playing perspective, I adapted my game to suit the more physical demands of non-league football.
Despite having played in front of massive crowds at the best stadiums in England, in the big derby games in London, Manchester and Liverpool, and on the same pitch as some of the true greats of British football, I certainly never thought that turning out in front of a few hundred hardy souls in a ramshackle stadium in one of the non-league backwaters was beneath me.
But, as I soon learned, that was the easy part of being a player-coach at this level. Little did I know when I was appointed on May 20, 2000 that Altrincham, one of the most famous clubs outside the Football League, were already in financial freefall.
Gerry Berman had been bankrolling the Moss Lane club for years and the wage bill was the largest in the Unibond League – twice as big as that of any other club in our division. Relegation just before I arrived had come at a massive cost. Not only had I inherited a poor team but the players were on too much money for the level they were playing at.
We had three centre-forwards – Leroy Chambers, Phil Power and Keith Russell – on £450 per week each but none of them was much good. Power had been a fine player in his heyday but he was now past it. Chambers had a tattoo on his back saying ‘Only God will judge me’. I judged him after five minutes – and sent him out on loan to Frickley Athletic. He wasn’t up to it. And neither was Russell.
Gerry told me the wage bill for 17 contracted players was £7,500 a week and that I had to reduce it to £5,000.
The club’s ailing finances then started to directly impact on the players and myself. We weren’t getting paid and it was becoming a nightmare.
I did all I could to steady the ship. I brought in some good, young players. I put Ian Craney, who went on to play for Accrington Stanley, Swansea City, Tranmere Rovers and Huddersfield Town, alongside me in the centre of midfield at the age of 16. But it was a constant battle trying to balance my ambitions for Alty with the club’s perilous financial plight.
Despite my pre-season hopes, it quickly became obvious that we had no chance of winning the division as I had to sell our best players. Left-back Danny Adams went to Macclesfield Town for £35,000, club captain Gary Talbot moved to Northwich and Kevin Ellison, our left-winger, to Premiership Leicester City.
Kevin was already at Altrincham when I arrived. Quick and athletic and our leading scorer with nine league goals in 17 matches, he was better than Unibond standard. Loads of clubs were interested in him but it was Leicester who wanted him most.
The board needed the sale of leading scorer Kevin to pay an outstanding tax bill. I hadn’t been involved in the transfer negotiations until I got the call from Colin Murphy, the assistant to Leicester City manager Peter Taylor.
Altrincham needed £50,000, and quickly, so I set off with Kevin and his agent Peter McIntosh to get the deal done. On arriva
l at Leicester I was called into Peter Taylor’s office and he told me point-blank that if he had to deal with an agent over the transfer of a non-league player to his Premiership club, then the deal was off.
Leicester’s offer was not particularly generous. Kevin was on £400 at Altrincham and they were offering him £200 a week more. However, if he made the Leicester City first team, then his wages would increase substantially.
I stood with Kevin and his father at Filbert Street and told them of the time I went from Northwich Victoria to Oldham Athletic and took a drop in wages because I was so desperate to play in the Football League. To be fair to Kevin, he had a great attitude and responded by saying that he’d have signed for Leicester City for a tenner.
Finally, the deal was done and Alty got their much-needed first instalment on the £50,000 fee to keep the club afloat. I still get reminded from time to time that I’m the only manager ever to sell a player from the Unibond Premier League – the fifth tier of English football – to one of the Premier League’s elite.
Kevin was never good enough for the top grade but the kid found his level and I’m pleased to say he’s had a successful career in the lower regions of the Football League with Stockport County, Tranmere Rovers, Hull City and Chester City.
With players having to be offloaded to cut costs, it meant our scouts had to be on the ball if we were to remain competitive, if not the title-chasing team I’d envisaged when I took the job. Tony Murphy, my good mate from my Northwich days and a veteran of the non-league game, came in to help out. He had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the non-league scene and was good at getting players in on the cheap, which was just as well because the money had clearly run out at Alty.
In January 2001, Gerry Berman issued an amazing public apology to me. He went on record as saying he was ‘deeply sorry’ he and his board had been unable to give me the sort of backing previous Robins bosses had enjoyed.
Berman told the Manchester Evening News Pink: ‘Mark has done nothing wrong in his short time in charge here and what upsets me is certainly not him but rather that the club and the board haven’t been able to back him to do his job to the best of his ability. He has known for some time, as we all have, that he has weaknesses in his squad but, unfortunately, due to financial circumstances, he has not been able to fill the gaps with players of the required standard.
‘That’s not the way of Altrincham Football Club, as people well know, and it’s certainly not typical of me as a chairman.
‘But, when we appointed Mark last summer, we didn’t realise we’d have these problems, otherwise I’d have laid the law down to him and insisted he cut the wage-bill immediately.
‘As it is, Mark has had to offload as the season has gone on. The board have not been able to support him properly – and I feel I’ve let him down.’
The chairman added: ‘As far as I’m concerned, Mark is no different to the likes of Jan Molby and Mark Wright, who have both come into non-league management and are earning rave reviews. Mark should be in that category and it’s desperately unfortunate for him that he has joined us at a time when we are experiencing serious difficulties.
‘But we’ll emerge from them and Mark will come out a stronger manager, just wait and see.
‘Never for one moment has it crossed my mind that he isn’t the right man for the job here. And neither is it now.
‘Mark would already be up there with the Wrights and Molbys if we’d have been there to back him, as we have previous managers.’
I certainly felt let down. Words of public support are one thing but I wanted deeds. The players and I having to go unpaid for six weeks was a terrible state of affairs and I’d had enough. The beleaguered chairman kept promising me he’d turn up with our cheques but he let me down time and again.
The last straw came one Thursday night after training. I angrily rang Gerry’s mobile after he again failed to turn up with the players’ wages. It wasn’t as if they could all afford to go without money either. Some lads couldn’t even get to training because they didn’t have enough cash to buy petrol.
The chairman’s phone went straight to answer-phone, so I threw it down on my desk in disgust, while shouting abuse at what I’d like to do to him.
To my amazement, Gerry turned up for the next home game on the Saturday. He came into my office and passed me his phone. ‘Listen to this, Mark,’ he said.
On the voicemail recording I heard myself screaming all sorts of abuse at him. I was gobsmacked. When I’d thrown down my mobile after training, I obviously hadn’t turned it off first, so Gerry’s voicemail picked up my whole rant and every obscene and offensive word I’d directed at him. And, believe me, there were plenty of F’s and C’s among that barrage of expletives.
I handed him back his phone and he said: ‘Now what have you got to say about that?’ I just blurted out: ‘It’s true – I meant every word of it!’
He was shocked and dismayed by my defiance but there was a happy outcome to this unfortunate exchange between chairman and manager when Gerry pulled out all the cheques to cover what was owed in wages.
Managing at non-league level can be very difficult a lot of the time. It must be great to get a job with no worries about money and being able to buy and sell whatever players you want. Sure, the likes of Sir Alex Ferguson, Rafa Benitez and whoever is managing Chelsea next week are under pressure to deliver trophies – but I bet they don’t have to hurl abuse at their chairmen to ensure their players get paid! Now that’s what I call anger management.
Having said that, I did actually enjoy managing. I relished the challenge of working with a young group of players and pitting my wits against the opposition boss but, at Alty, whatever we did on the field was overshadowed by the club’s relentless struggle to stay afloat.
Dwindling attendances – down to around the 600 mark despite the fact that we won eight and drew four of our 14 home league games before Christmas – and a decline in commercial activity left the board unable to continue bridging the gap between income and expenditure. They were apparently £450,000 in debt, including directors’ loans, and it was claimed that one former director had threatened to bring a winding-up petition against the club.
In December, the directors used the local press to urge fans to come to Moss Lane and also pleaded for new investors, but none were forthcoming by mid-winter and the club was on the brink of going out of business. It was a far cry from the late ’70s and early ’80s when Alty captured the Conference title and FA Trophy twice and earned national recognition for FA Cup exploits that included a 2-1 humbling of then top flight Birmingham City at St Andrew’s in 1986.
Following five years at the helm and less than two weeks after giving me his full public backing, Berman, the club’s former saviour and majority share-holder, resigned to make way for a big boardroom shake-up that would reportedly see a business consortium bring new investment into the club.
Acting chairman Mark Harris, who brokered the takeover deal, warned at the end of January that ‘things were likely to get worse before they get better.’ Harris told The Non-League Paper: ‘Mark Ward has done a superb job in very difficult circumstances but even at its current level the club cannot sustain the wage bill it is paying.
‘Further cuts are going to have to be made. We are going to have to bring a new feeling of realism to the club and only spend what we can afford. But I would like to pay tribute to Mark Ward, who has done an exemplary job, and the players whose attitude has been first class during a difficult period.’
Even so, I sensed that my days were numbered and, sure enough, I didn’t have to wait long for the extended new board to make its next decisive move.
On Sunday, March 18, 2001, the day after our emphatic 3-0 home victory over Droylsden, I was summoned to the ground to be given a letter by the Harris stating that I’d been sacked. Anthony Taylor, who was promoted to assist Harris, wanted his dad back in charge of the team.
Even though I knew that Gerry Berman’s departure l
eft me vulnerable, I still couldn’t believe I’d been sacked after just eight months into the job. Bernard Taylor – assisted by former Alty player Graham Heathcote – was reinstated as manager and it was all thanks to his son who fancied himself as a big shot and wanted everyone to call him ‘Anton’.
When Harris informed me of the board’s decision, it was a horrible, gut-wrenching moment. I felt immediate and overwhelming anger, a sense of betrayal and it was so very unjust. I had great difficulty keeping my emotions in check.
Enraged, I drove straight round to the home of Vic Green, Alty’s kit man. Vic had been at the club for years and I don’t mind admitting that I cried with rage as I showed him the letter. It was an awkward situation for Vic, as he was married to Bernard Taylor’s daughter, but even he couldn’t believe the appalling way I’d been treated.
The next day I rang the PFA’s Mick McGuire, who was Gordon Taylor’s right-hand man at the time and a former team-mate of mine at Oldham, who said I could use the PFA’s solicitors, free of charge, to fight my case for unfair dismissal.
I went back to the ground at Moss Lane to collect my personal belongings and to say goodbye to the squad. Anthony Taylor pretended to be nice to me but I told him to ‘fuck off’ and then vowed to fight for all outstanding monies due on my original two-year contract. The idiot responded by saying I wasn’t a member of the PFA because I was no longer a full-time pro. When I pointed out that ex-pros remain PFA members for life, he shut up.
It took me months to get over what happened to me at Altrincham – who finished that season in seventh place – 32 points behind champions Stalybridge Celtic – and it still angers me to think about it even now. I received a financial settlement from the club in the end but the money wasn’t the main issue. I’d been well and truly shafted.
The damage the bastards who were behind my sacking achieved still haunts me when I think about it. It was my first job in management and for the sake of putting his father, who didn’t have a clue, back in charge, Anthony Taylor’s despicable actions damaged my reputation as a manager before I’d barely had the chance to get going.
