Ring of Fire

by Simon Hughes

  Although he scored on his Liverpool debut as a seventeen year old, it was his achievements with England that propelled him farthest initially. An entire chapter of his 2004 autobiography was devoted to the ‘Wonder Goal’ against Argentina at the 1998 World Cup. The manner of the moment represented the bold nature of the person who delivered it.

  ‘When you grow up, your desire to become a footballer isn’t related to being famous or having a Ferrari. You just want to be the best. I think that’s the case for most motivated people, whatever industry you work in. Yet what comes with it when you’re a footballer, there’s nothing you can do to prepare for it. You can only prepare to make yourself a better football player: by looking at how early you go to bed, what you eat or how you practise.

  ‘I made my debut for Liverpool [against Wimbledon in 1997] and scored. Straight away, people were talking about me. Within twelve months, I’d become a regular in the Liverpool team, made my debut for England and scored in the World Cup against Argentina, making me well known around the world. That change was a lot to take in – really sudden. If I hadn’t had good people around me – a good agent, my family, players I looked up to like Alan Shearer, Dwight Yorke and David Beckham – all of them helping me, taking the pressure away, it would have been easy to lose track of where I was going.

  ‘The trajectory obviously wasn’t normal by everyone else’s standards but it felt normal to me. I would score goals for Liverpool; I would score goals for England; I’d do well at the World Cup. It wasn’t a case of: let’s see how I do here. I’d done it all my life – I’d broken records for every team I’d played for. In my mind, it was always going to happen. It might sound arrogant saying it, but if you don’t think like that, you won’t go anywhere near as far. The way I thought was probably very, very rare.

  ‘When you’re young, you don’t think anything is impossible. I could probably name [Gabriel] Batistuta of the players in the Argentina team, none of the others. I wasn’t worried. But towards the end of my career, I would think about the opponents I would face. I’d know I was in for a game against Rio Ferdinand or John Terry. I’d maybe target the other centre-half, maybe play on him instead because he wasn’t as quick or as strong. You lose that air of fearlessness.

  ‘When I was eighteen, I feared nothing. I just did it. It didn’t matter who I was playing against. I had an unshakable self-belief. Nothing bothered me. The prospect of scoring against Argentina at the World Cup? It felt natural.’

  Owen’s rise happened at a time when football was changing. Matches were soap operas and the players became celebrities. Owen hired Tony Stephens as his agent, who worked for SFX, the New York-based sports management agency that also controlled the affairs of David Beckham and basketball legend Michael Jordan. For Beckham, Stephens had negotiated sponsorship deals worth £17 million a year, including a £4 million-a-year deal with Adidas.

  ‘Football went boom and David was the first superstar in terms of popularity. He led the way and I followed. I’m naturally shy and I didn’t want to go down the route of being in the front pages of the papers all of the time. That in some way contributed towards my image of being clean-cut.

  ‘I have loads of respect for Tony [Stephens]. He helped create a certain image for me. It wasn’t necessarily different to how I was or am now but, if I’m being honest, I suppose it wasn’t absolutely a reflection of me.

  ‘When I meet new people, one of the most common things they say to me is, “You’re nothing like I thought.” We spend five minutes together and they say, “I thought you were quite straight, boring and whatever.”

  ‘The lads at Liverpool will probably tell you that even when I was nineteen or twenty, inside the dressing room me and Carra were two of the loudest voices – screaming, laughing and instigating pranks. To the outside world, everyone looking in was thinking I was this whiter-than-white angel. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t going out night after night on the lash. But I like a drink and I’ve been known to enjoy a bet. Some of the values that people associate me with are true but it was dressed up more than the reality.’

  Elsewhere in this book, Jamie Carragher says that the football ability that he and Owen shared was aggression – in spite of Owen’s widely held reputation as a clean player. Owen reasons this is partly natural but also a by-product of the youth system at Liverpool.

  ‘It was a far cry from what it is now, where everything is done for you,’ Owen says. ‘It was a tough environment. Everybody wanted it really badly. The standard was really high and the local lads set that standard. You were in touching distance of the first team – you could see the senior players walking into Melwood; you could see them prepare. You could see them train. Every now and then you’d get to have a kickabout with them. It was all very real.

  ‘Inside the youth teams, there would be fights. Every day was life or death – a quest for survival. You had to win your five-a-side. I’ve stuck my hand through the bedroom door in my mum and dad’s house four or five times when I’ve got home just because I’ve lost a five-a-side in training or been annoyed at someone for losing us a proper game. You look back and you think, What was I doing? I’m as calm as they come; I’ve got four kids; I’ve never raised a hand to anyone in my life – I’m not that way inclined at all. But losing in football made me act like a psychopath. When you’re in that situation and want something so badly, trying to scramble a way to the top, it can drive you mad.’

  Owen recalls getting sent off against Manchester United during his first full season as a Liverpool player for a two-footed lunge at Peter Schmeichel, a goalkeeper almost twice his age and twice his size.

  ‘It was an example of the inner quirk inside me. On the face of it, I’m a nice lad. But put me on a football pitch facing Man United for Liverpool and I change.

  ‘In football, bravery represents going in for a tackle with a 6 ft 5 in. giant with a reputation for being sent off when you’re only 5 ft 8. But in my eyes, bravery in football is showing for the ball instead of hiding when you’re 1–0 down in front of seventy-five thousand people and most of the crowd are booing. There are different types of bravery. Aggression is the same. In my eyes, I was as aggressive as any player that’s ever bloody been. Certainly in the first few years of my career, I’d tackle anyone; I’d kick anyone. This goes back to youth level.

  ‘You look at the best players – they’re right on the edge. You see a Luis Suárez bite someone or a Wayne Rooney stamp. It isn’t an attempt to condone bad behaviour by explaining why it happens, because you’ve got to try to curb it, but I’ve always felt if you take that away from the best players, they’re not quite the same.

  ‘When you go on to the pitch, it has to be almost a life-or-death situation. We all feel like grabbing someone, pinching, kicking or even biting, especially when you want to win so much, whether it’s in five-a-side during training or during a game. The key is to find a way to stop yourself. If you’re not right on that edge – on the precipice of madness – you become normal.’

  Many do not realize how injury accelerated Owen’s route towards normality. He was only nineteen when, in 1999 at Elland Road against Leeds United, he fell in agony, holding his hamstring – a vital instrument in his body considering his pace.

  ‘Players have surgery on muscles now but they didn’t then. So instead of having two sets of fully functioning hamstrings, I ran for the rest of my career on three [tendons] on one and two on the other. The string on my right leg ruptured before reattaching at the wrong place. It meant there was an imbalance in my body, one leg being considerably stronger than the other.

  ‘People are quick to say, “Oh, you weren’t as good when you left Liverpool.” But if you actually know what happened, you realize that it’s impossible for it to have turned out any other way. If you are running on one hamstring that isn’t as strong, there is going to be a natural gradual deterioration. You’ve got power in one leg while the other tries to keep up. That puts more pressure on your groin, your calf and you
r quads – so you end up pulling muscles elsewhere. And then hernias go. I ended up being prone to muscle injuries because I had one catastrophic injury at the start. It frustrates me because I never had any problems with my bones or ligaments. I didn’t realize it then, but the physical foundations of my entire career were built on sand.

  ‘Muscle injuries took their toll on me. You try to kid yourself at the beginning that everything is OK. But there was no doubt my physical ability was on the wane for a long time and my career was slowly being taken away from me. That probably coincided with the period where I stopped being on the absolute edge – when marriage and parenthood came along. Had my mind remained on the edge as my physical capacity declined, I probably would have gone crazy, knowing I couldn’t reach the levels I set myself: my brain telling me one thing but my body not being able to do it. It wouldn’t have been healthy. I probably came to some realization in the back of my mind that I wasn’t as good as I had been. I couldn’t sprint as fast as I needed or wanted to. I began to feel less invincible. I realized my powers were slipping.’

  It seems remarkable that Owen managed to return to anywhere near the standards he set before 1999, never mind win the European Player of the Year award as he did two years later. That he did underlines what he believes was his strongest quality.

  ‘Mentality,’ he says. ‘When I was playing, I thought I was really quick and a very good finisher. I realized I had to brush up on dropping deep for the ball sometimes and not just going in behind the defence all of the time. I appreciated that to be a Liverpool player, I had to be able to link others into the game. I couldn’t just keep running and chasing after passes. There is no question, though, that my mentality was my greatest asset. There are loads of people who can run quickly; there are loads of people who can finish too. Most of us have a body that is robust and that can do similar things on a football pitch. But there’s one thing that separates the great players from the good players – it’s what lies between your ears. I had an unwavering dollop of self-belief.

  ‘I remember when Real Madrid came in for me and I spoke to Carra. He goes, “Mo, you’ll never play, will you? They’ve got Raúl, Ronaldo, [Fernando] Morientes and plenty of others.” I think he was taken aback by my confidence. I didn’t care. It was almost ignorance. I realized deep down they were great players: Ronaldo was the best in the world for a time and Raúl was the darling of Madrid. But the idea they were better than me never registered. I wasn’t bothered about them at all. The attitude was: I’m going there to knock them out of the team.

  ‘Maybe Carra was trying to put me off going. But I think we were big enough mates to have an honest conversation. Of course, I can admit now that other players were better than me. Then, while I was still active – in the first six or seven years – I wouldn’t have it that someone else was as good. It’s a horrible thing to say out loud because it comes across as egotistical, I realize that. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to think I was a big-headed so-and-so. But deep down that’s the way I was even in spite of the injuries. I wasn’t worried about anyone.’

  The offer from Real Madrid arrived at a time of transition at Anfield. Houllier had left and been replaced by Rafael Benítez. Benítez was determined that he needed to break a British clique that he believed was present in the dressing room. Having already sold Danny Murphy to Charlton Athletic, Owen’s position was vulnerable because of his contract, which only had a year left to run.

  Owen can understand fan frustration about the issue of Liverpool not receiving as much money as they should have for him but reasons that his agent had gone on a six-month sabbatical, deciding to travel the world, during Houllier’s last season in charge, thus delaying negotiations over a contract extension.

  ‘I didn’t envisage anyone making a bid for me and everyone agreed that we could wait until Tony [Stephens] returned,’ Owen explains. ‘It was different then to what it’s like now, where clubs are petrified to leave it so late. We were all really relaxed. I was happy; I was scoring goals. I had no reason to want to leave. When Real Madrid made the call, both Liverpool and I had a decision to make.

  ‘I must emphasize, I never dreamed of leaving Liverpool. I always thought that me, Carra and Stevie – we all came through at the same time – would be together until the end of our careers. I never asked for Real Madrid to come in for me and I never touted myself around through my agent. Some players do. I only wanted to play for Liverpool, to be there for ever.

  ‘When Madrid made an offer, my mind began to race. My instinct was to stay at Liverpool. But then I thought that maybe it was a chance to do what Ian Rush did – to go abroad for a year and then return. I wrestled with the decision. I spoke to Rick Parry [the chief executive] and said to him, “What if I just go and come back next summer?” I knew that if I retired having not tried it, I’d regret it. It was Real Madrid – the most successful club in Europe. They had the greatest players: Ronaldo, Raúl, Figo and Zidane.

  ‘I drove to John Lennon airport crying my eyes out, thinking, What the hell have you done? I was naive to think I could go there, come back home and pretend it never really happened, because once you make a break from the people and the club you trust, you lose a lot of control. The best-laid plans agreed between Rick Parry and me never came about.’

  For Owen, the move to the Spanish capital was similar to Ian Rush’s experience in Turin with Juventus two decades earlier. Although on the pitch he was a greater success than Rush, scoring nineteen goals in forty-three starts, he admits he struggled when it was time to leave the training ground.

  ‘In my head, I had this idea of training sessions in the morning followed by afternoons sat in front of a swimming pool in the sun but I made the mistake of not buying somewhere in the first few months. I was married to Louise [Bonsall] by then with a two-year-old daughter. I spoke to Macca [Steve McManaman] before going out there and he loved it but he didn’t have kids.

  ‘The club put us in a businessmen’s hotel on the edge of the city for five months. Restaurants in Spain do not really open until 10 p.m. and we couldn’t have Gemma staying up until midnight every day at the age of two, so we’d put her to sleep at seven, turn the lights off half an hour later and put the only English TV channel on mute.

  ‘I felt guilty leaving Louise alone with Gemma if I ever went out to play golf with Ronaldo or César Sánchez, the back-up goalkeeper. I knew they’d be back in the hotel with little to do. Maybe the club could have done more to help. Certainly, I could have done more to prepare. We never had the support system around us to make it work.’

  It was towards the end of his first season when Real Madrid’s president, Florentino Pérez, knocked on his hotel room door.

  ‘He said, “Michael, we’re happy for you to stay. But also, if you want to go back to the Premier League, we’re happy for you to go.” I said I agreed that I should go but only if it was to Liverpool. So discreet contact was made with Liverpool. The problem was, Newcastle weren’t shy in telling everyone they were in for me too, so it was splashed about the press and everyone knew about it.’

  This was in the period when Liverpool won the Champions League in Istanbul.

  ‘Yeah, of course it made me envious,’ Owen admits. ‘Missing out on a night like that, who wouldn’t want to be a part of it? I was a motivated footballer and I cared deeply about Liverpool. I was delighted for lads like Carra, Stevie, Didi Hamann and Sami Hyypiä because they were my mates and I knew how much it meant to them. We’d been in the trenches together before. But it would be dishonest of me to say it didn’t make me jealous too. God, winning the European Cup with Liverpool – it would have been the greatest thing . . .’

  Owen describes his desperation to return to Liverpool, a return ultimately made impossible by the financial package Newcastle offered to Real Madrid, a package delivered by chairman Freddie Shepherd, who was determined to show Newcastle’s frustrated supporters that he still possessed the financial clout to compete with the Premier League’s biggest c
lubs.

  ‘Pérez accepted Newcastle’s £16 million offer but I reminded him that I’d only leave for Liverpool. Pérez said, “Fine, get them to match the deal being offered by Newcastle then.” So my agent spoke to Rick Parry and I met with Rafa Benítez, who wanted me back. Rick said that he’d go to £10 million, considering they’d sold me for £8 million twelve months before. I told Rick that Real Madrid would never let me leave for that but maybe they might if he stretched it to £12 million. If everything worked out, I would be going back to Liverpool on less money than I was on before leaving. I was so desperate for it to happen that I told Rick I’d hold fire until the last possible moment in the transfer window and risk staying in Madrid. I knew that Pérez wanted to sign Sergio Ramos from Seville and he was waiting for the funds to come in to complete the deal.’

  Owen says he broke down in tears when Parry called him to say Liverpool’s budget had been allocated to other areas of the squad and that he could only raise £10 million. It prompted Owen to make sure his agent brokered a deal with Newcastle where the contract stipulated that he could leave for Liverpool.

  ‘So I went to Newcastle for £16 million. Newcastle’s determination to get me and to pay such a big fee cost me my dream move. I don’t blame Newcastle at all, though. They wanted someone: they made an offer – fair enough.

  ‘Not many people know this but my contract at Newcastle said that if Liverpool made an offer of £12 million at the end of my first season, I could go back to Liverpool. It was £8 million at the end of the second year and £4 million at the end of the third. Everything was geared towards getting me back to Liverpool.’

  Owen played at Anfield for the first time in his career as an opponent of Liverpool and returned home that night in December 2005 ashen-faced, with the jeers of those who once idolized him haunting his thoughts, the defeat freezing his soul. Those in the Kop did not realize Owen had tried so hard to become a Liverpool player once more and in the build-up to the match the focus was on the financial rewards he’d reaped by moving to Newcastle instead.