by Mark Ward
Back in the north-west, Granada TV wanted to do an interview for their Granada Reports news programme that goes out every night. I was apprehensive but it was another great opportunity to get my point across and obviously it would be great exposure for the book, too. I pre-recorded the interview by the dock-side, a stone’s throw away from the Liver buildings, and it went really well. It was strange seeing myself on the news that evening.
Naturally, the Liverpool Echo wanted to talk to me and I was very pleased with the coverage Dave Prentice gave me in a series of extracts. It made a nice change to be headline news in my local paper for the right reasons! I also had a lovely chat with Paul Hince, who covered Man City for the Manchester Evening News throughout my time at Maine Road. When I was first sent to prison, he wrote one of the most sympathetic pieces and, four years later, it was nice to be able to read it on the internet and thank him on the phone.
Despite my increasing confidence in dealing with all the interviews for radio, television, newspapers and magazines, I really was dreading the book signings at one of Waterstones’ leading London outlets - the Leadenhall Market branch in the City. I kept saying that nobody would turn up but my publisher assured me they would. To try and ease my nerves, I jokingly asked Mick Tobyn whether my book would be placed on the shelves of the crime or the sports section. As we approached the beautiful Victorian building I could see posters of myself displayed in the windows and was gobsmacked to see that a queue of people had already formed.
The staff at the shop were very welcoming and sat me down at a table to sign loads of books that had been on prominent display at the front of the busy shop in the heart of London’s square mile. The customers were mainly West Ham, Everton, Manchester City and Birmingham supporters dressed in business suits who worked in the City. They came out during their lunch break to buy the book and get it signed but some of them also had replica shirts and photos that I was also only too pleased to autograph. I must admit, it was nice to be remembered for the good things I’d done in my life.
Just weeks previously I’d been pacing my prison cell and now I was in this flagship shop signing copies of my book. It felt unreal.
The warmth from customers was overwhelming and the girl from Waterstone’s who was looking after me said that some very well-known celebrities didn’t get half as many people turn up for their signings.
I must also express my gratitude to everyone who has sent letters or emails to me, via my publisher, to say how much you enjoyed the first hardback edition of this book. I was overwhelmed by the response from all corners of the country and I read every word of them. No-one has slagged me off and I can only say a genuine big ‘thanks’ now for the many kind words of praise and encouragement that have been a big source of comfort to me in my first year back in the community.
Probably the biggest public event I attended in the first year following my release was the invitation to speak at the Liverpool Festival of Culture on 15 October. It was a daunting prospect. The annual occasion is an international literary festival which runs over five days. I was talking at their Football Stories event that evening with Jonathan Wilson, who had written a book on tactics and it was hosted by respected broadcaster John Keith of City Talk. The event is held at The Blue Coat Chambers, the oldest surviving building in Liverpool which has received millions of pounds of investment for restoration.
All the media interviews and media work I’d given in the previous months had stood me in good stead, because I felt no nerves as I stepped into the small theatre at the start of the evening. Melissa and her husband Kevin were in the audience of several hundred and it was great to have a well known and respected voice in John Keith asking the questions. Some well known faces were in the audience and Tony Fitz was there and was looking forward to hear what I had to say. He has his own production company and is interested in doing something with the book.
One thing that will always stay with me from that night was the Q&A at the end. I answered the questions as best I could and John Keith was ready to finish the night when Melissa suddenly took hold of the mic. I was momentarily stunned, wondering with bated breath what she was about to say. But I need not have had any concerns. She was very composed and said: ‘I’d just like to say that I know my dad did wrong and went to prison, but I love him so much. If my two sons grow up to be half the man he is, I’ll be a very proud mother.’
It was a very emotional moment for me. I nearly started to cry, especially as most of the audience let out a loud applause after Melissa’s heartfelt speech.
38. TO HELL AND BACK
IT is a very arrogant person – probably a liar – who goes beyond their 40th birthday and claims to have no regrets. But if, in these reflective moments as I look back on my eventful rollercoaster life, I was to write down everything I’ve regretted doing, this book would be thicker than War and Peace!
I’ve done a lot of soul-searching in the past four years and I’ll share those thoughts with you here. In my personal life, I wish I’d worked much harder to make a success of my marriage to Jane that ended in 1996 after 14 years.
Melissa was also a victim of the marriage break-up and was devastated by the divorce. I am truly sorry for hurting her as well as her mother. My daughter has been an absolute rock for me since my imprisonment and without the love of her and other family members, especially brother Billy and Uncle Tommy, it would have been so much harder for me to cope. They’ve always been there when I’ve needed them.
Being unable to attend Melissa’s wedding day in 2006 and missing the birth of her last two children while I was inside are major causes for regret. I wish I’d been able to celebrate the arrival of my youngest grandchildren Isabella and Frankie on the outside and I know I definitely should have been there to give my daughter away. It was a sad day for me when Jane had to perform that honour instead.
* * * *
Football-wise, I have only a few regrets. I was bitterly disappointed when I’d finished playing without having won an England cap, which would have meant so much to me. There was a period – at West Ham in the mid-80s – when I believe I was definitely good enough to have played for my country but two things probably counted against me. Everton right-winger Trevor Steven was a brilliant player with a very successful club at the time. Secondly, perhaps my more aggressive style of play didn’t go down well with the people who mattered.
I shouldn’t have left West Ham as early as I did. If Billy Bonds – and not Lou Macari – had succeeded John Lyall, I wouldn’t have gone anywhere. Who knows, I could still have been living near London and maybe even working at West Ham now?
There are regrets, too, about leaving Everton in 1994, with one year still left on my contract. Yet again, I acted too impetuously in wanting to get away from a poor manager in Mike Walker. I should have been patient and waited for Joe Royle to take over and my hasty decision to join Birmingham City might well have cost me a place in Everton’s FA Cup-winning side of ’95.
I can’t complain, though. I was fortunate enough to play more than 400 senior games, for clubs in four major cities, and there can’t be many who can look back on their career and say that they’ve played in all of the top six divisions of English football. The game gave me a nice lifestyle for a number of years and has also taken me to countries I would not otherwise have had the pleasure of visiting.
* * * *
People ask if I regret having a bet on the horses and drinking as much as I did. Well, I enjoy both pleasures in life. I’ve always been a sociable person and like to think of myself as a man of the people. I can’t change that now and, to be honest, I don’t want to. Enjoying a few beers and having a bet has always been a way of life for both my late father Billy and Uncle Tommy. So if it’s good enough for them, then it’s good enough for me too.
Obviously, my biggest regret dates back to 2005, when I became involved in renting the house that ultimately cost me four years of freedom. You live and die by your actions and decisions in life, and of co
urse I now bitterly regret getting involved in that drug-related crime. I made a terribly stupid decision and I’ve faced the consequences.
Respect is a great word and, despite the problems I’ve encountered in my life, some of them of my own making, I’ve always given respect to people who have deserved it – such as my ex-managers, Howard Kendall and the late John Lyall, for example. And I believe I’ve earned the respect of my fellow footballers, friends and prisoners alike.
I’m a great believer in freedom of speech and the freedom to smoke, drink and whatever else you care to do in your own time. Obviously, drugs kill people and they damage the lives of not only those who take them, but also their families.
But I’ve never forced anybody to do anything against their will. I did wrong, yes, and I’ve served my time accordingly as a model prisoner. Well, most of the time anyway, if you ignore the concealment of mobile phones and drinking of the odd beer on licensed premises that breached my home leave conditions!
What I still can’t understand, though, are the barbaric sentences dished out to offenders in drug-related crimes compared to those who commit far more heinous acts. I’ve seen lads coming in from the courts with 16-to-24-year jail sentences for their involvement in drug crimes. On the other hand, I’ve read of evil paedophiles and rapists escaping lightly on four-to-six-year prison terms for systematically abusing children and ruining the lives of their defenceless victims. Tell me how that can be right?
I’m not trying to say that people who become embroiled in drug-related crimes shouldn’t be punished. Of course they should. What I would like to see, though, is a much fairer and appropriate sentencing procedure so that the punishment fits the crime. Is that really too much to ask of the British justice system? Or is the system itself corrupt? Maybe it all comes down to money?
As a parent, ask yourself this: Who would you be more gravely concerned about … an evil sex offender who could abuse, rape or torture your daughter, wife or son; or someone who rents a house out as a stash? As I’ve said, I’m not trying to exonerate myself from blame and I realise that two wrongs don’t make a right. All I’m asking for is some perspective.
About a month before my release, I read in the paper that the government is set to introduce more lenient sentencing laws for crimes involving drugs. I’m not so much bitter that they hadn’t addressed this issue before my arrest in 2005, as glad that at least convicted criminals will be handed down more appropriate jail terms in the future.
* * * *
Four years in prison has definitely changed me as a person. Life will never be quite the same for me following my release. I’ll probably forever be labelled the ‘ex-Premier League footballer who was involved with drugs and got an eight-year sentence’. Already, just days before my release, news of the imminent publication of my book reached the media and the prison screws at Kirkham showed me a newspaper report that referred to me as the ‘shamed soccer star’. That’s the media for you – don’t they love a sensational cliché? – but I’ll live with it.
I think having spent half my adult life in football, 13 seasons as a professional, actually helped me cope with prison. Spending all those years in a dressing room full of bravado, various egos and with all the banter flying around, made it easier to deal with day-to-day life locked up among prisoners who have a lot to say for themselves. You have to live on your wits and stick up for yourself inside, just as you do at a football club.
Footballers have a very structured routine in both training and playing terms and it’s not too dissimilar to the strict regime of prison, where meal times and exercise periods remain regimental and a fixed schedule is adhered to. Like I did throughout my football career, I made sure I kept myself as fit as possible in prison. In fact, at 10st 10lbs, I weigh just three pounds more now than I did at the end of my professional playing days. I feel as fit as a fiddle.
It’s my burning desire to get back into football coaching, hopefully at non-league level initially, as soon as possible. Why not? The experiences I gained as a player and manager at Birmingham City – where we were champions and cup winners in my first full season as first team player-coach – and later Altrincham and Leigh RMI, will stand me in good stead for future employment with any club.
I honestly believe that, at 46, I could still do a good job coaching or managing at lower league level and, if anything, I’m probably better equipped to do so now than I was four years ago. Managing a group of 20 or so players again, either full-time pros or part-timers, on a daily basis would come easily to me after living alongside and getting on with hundreds and thousands of prisoners.
There were many more volatile and violent characters throwing their weight around on B-wing in Walton than I’m ever likely to encounter at a football club. Prison life, and making your way through the system, is all about managing relationships with fellow prisoners and having the ability to get on with them, to give and take and to handle a myriad of contrasting temperaments. Isn’t that essentially what a football coach/manager does too?
I fully appreciate that my CV could have made more impressive reading than it has over the past four years or so! It will take a very big man to offer me the job of managing or coaching at his football club. I hope that, somewhere out there, there is just such a brave character reading this now, who will grant me the chance that I crave. I can’t emphasise enough how mentally scarred I was by my bitter Altrincham experience and I still see it as unfinished business as far as my football life is concerned. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I still have a lot to offer but the big question remains: Is there a man out there big enough and brave enough to let me prove myself again?
* * * *
It was quickly obvious to me on my release from Kirkham that the financial climate was poor and Britain was in the grip of the worst global recession in living memory – since the Great Depression of the early ’30s. Not a good time to come out of prison looking for work.
I’d been so grateful for my year’s part-time work which enabled me to leave prison with enough money to rent a flat on the outskirts of Liverpool. I decided to pay six months’ rent in advance so I wouldn’t have any worries about having a roof over my head for a while.
But the building industry has been one of the worst-hit sectors of the global recession. On 6 May, just five days before leaving prison, I received confirmation that I was being laid off from the part-time labouring job I’d had while allowed out on day release. Work had dried up and there was nothing doing for me there anymore, even though they had been delighted with my efforts and commitment in the past.
Towards the end of the year, thanks to my good mate Tony Murphy, I managed to find some more work as an electrician’s mate on a new hotel being built in Liverpool but that stint lasted for about eight weeks before I was out of work again.
Many of you reading this will have been affected by the recession or know of others who have, so I can easily relate to the difficulties many people are experiencing these days. It’s doubly difficult when you have a criminal record. I’m more fortunate than many others because I have great friends who help me as much as possible – people like Tony Murphy, who is always looking out for me.
As I’ve said, it would be a dream come true to get back involved in football in a management and/or coaching capacity. I don’t kid myself that I can walk back into the game at a high level or resume the role I had as a successful first team coach at Birmingham City. So I sent out over 50 typewritten letters to more than 50 selected non-league clubs at Blue Square Conference League level and the two North and South divisions immediately below that, making them aware of my past experience and availability in the hope that there might be an opportunity somewhere. I wouldn’t be expensive, I would be very realistic in my expectations and I know I can do a better job than some of the people who have been given a chance.
But to this day I’ve had little response other than a few polite ‘thanks, but no thanks’ replies from chairmen. Hopefully they will bear
me in my mind the next time they are thinking of hiring a new manager or coach.
Meanwhile, I press on and try to find work wherever possible, but it’s a tough world out there – in the real world. For several weeks in the summer of ’09 I appeared on Peter McDowall’s City Talk radio show in Liverpool. It was enjoyable and a good experience but they were unable to pay me anything for appearing.
Another area that has been very badly affected by the recession is corporate hospitality events which most companies and individuals have been forced to cut back on. It’s bad news for us ex-pros trying to make our way on the after-dinner circuit. I must say Tony Gale, in particular, and Alvin Martin and Ian Snodin have all been great in helping to fix me up with bookings whenever and wherever they can and I’ve been fortunate enough to appear at shows with all three of them at different times in the past year or so. The Scouse comedian, Frank Allen, has also been a big help in this respect.
Just before Christmas ’09, I was invited to a corporate Christmas lunch at Balls Brothers in London organised by Steve Surridge of Eclipse Sports and hosted by Alvin Martin. Among the other celebrity guests were: Ossie Ardiles, Paul Merson, Mick Hartford, Graham Roberts, Frank Stapleton, Martin Chivers and ex-England cricketer Ronnie Irani. I must say they all treated me very well and no-one shunned me because of my past.
I was shown to a table of nine West Ham fans and they couldn’t have made me more welcome. Mark Dougherty was the host of the table and he immediately put me at ease and broke the ice by handing me a badge that he’d had specially made and which all nine lads were wearing. The badge showed four prisoners tied to a ball and chain with the words ‘Ball and Chain Gang!’ at the top! It was their little way of showing their support for me and it was a lovely touch. As was my dinner name card that I spotted behind my plate, which read: ‘Mark Ward NM6982’.
