Carra: My Autobiography (42 page)

If there is one club I will never turn down, naturally it's Liverpool. I wouldn't limit my ambition to managing Liverpool, of course – I'm more realistic than that – but to manage Liverpool would be the ultimate accolade if I follow that route. I've already made a tentative start to my coaching career at Anfield, earning my UEFA 'B' coaching licence at The Academy, working alongside those who first brought me through the ranks, Dave Shannon and Hugh McAuley. I'm not sure how far it will lead, but at least when I've finished playing the option will be there should any offers come my way. I didn't want to be in a position where if a call came I wouldn't be qualified to consider it. Although I'm committed to Academy football, I wouldn't consider coaching youngsters as an alternative option. I'm driven by the pursuit of honours in the professional game too much. Winning major trophies is what football is all about, and I couldn't stay in the game if that wasn't my prime objective at the end of every season.

The idea of being a future Liverpool manager excites and worries me. On the one hand, what better promotion can there be? Kenny Dalglish proved it was possible to make a successful transition from player to manager, but the fact the pressures took their toll on him serve as a warning. Then you look at the experience of Graeme Souness. Until 1991 he was seen as nothing other than a hero by the Liverpool fans. My dad still claims he's Liverpool's greatest player. Sadly, his reputation was tainted by his period as manager. I'd hate that to happen to me. To have achieved so much for the club, to have contributed to so many medals, and to have that tarnished, even forgotten, because of a series of mistakes during a three-year reign as manager? It doesn't make the job seem so attractive. Would I fall out with my mates on The Kop? They'd be in my ear asking me to sign or sell players, or questioning my decisions or tactics. You can't win every game, so there would inevitably be disagreements.

The fact I'm even thinking so negatively suggests I might talk myself out of the running if I'm ever considered. But, despite all this, there's an exciting reason for me to believe the Liverpool manager's job would be right for me. I happen to think I'd be good at it.

There's been a misconception over many years that I've reached the level I'm at by being a courageous lad who gives 100 per cent, making the most of the good management of others. While it may have been meant well, there's always been more to me than that. Grab most of the lads on The Kop and they'll give you bravery and commitment. That's not enough to play for Liverpool and England. My greatest asset has been the football brain I was lucky enough to be born with.

As a player, I've always thought like a manager. From as far back as I can remember I've understood the language of football – not just what's said, but in my reading of the game. I see where moves are developing a second earlier than some players. The reason I've been able to throw my body in the way of a goalbound shot so often is I've sensed the danger before it arrived. I've never been someone who merely absorbed information on the training pitch like a zombie and just did everything I was told without questioning it. I've taken on board all the positive coaching ideas I've been given by Evans, Moran, Houllier and Benitez and applied them to my own view of how the game should be played. I'm as likely to give instructions to my teammates as receive them from the boss. I don't need to be told what to do all the time because I've reached a point in my career where I instinctively know what the game is about. I've taken responsibility with my own decision-making on the field. I've had this talent since I was a youngster.

Like any manager, I analyse opponents and consistently assess my own side's strengths and weaknesses. Throughout the season I'm thinking about the players I've decided aren't good enough and should be shipped out, and I'm looking closely for those I feel would add quality to our line-up. I'm forever dropping hints to the manager about players I think should be targets. There have been plenty of times I wish I could have stopped a transfer from happening, or influenced the boss to make a move for a particular player. As manager, I'd have the power to make those decisions, standing and falling by my own judgement. I like that idea.

My press conferences would be entertaining too, although whether this would sit comfortably with those who'd prefer a quiet manager I'm not so sure. Of all the managers I've worked with, I suspect I'd have more in common with Houllier, in that he lost his temper much more than Benitez and Evans. I wouldn't be able to stop myself having a go at someone if they provoked me. I suspect I'd be a cross between a traditional English manager, saying it as it is, and the kind of foreign boss who's had so much influence on my career.

'You never stop learning in football,' Ronnie Moran taught me, and he was sixty-five at the time. I'd take on board modern ideas and ensure I was well informed of any advancements in the game, but I'd go out of my way to be honest and blunt in my assessments of a performance, as I have been as a player. I'm not a fan of the 'coach speak' that has infiltrated our game in recent years. You know what I'm talking about. Sometimes I hear a manager talk and it's like they've swallowed a UEFA 'what to say in press conferences' manual, using big words and phrases they think sound impressive but which are more designed to make them sound intelligent. I'd stand by 'The Liverpool Way' principles of Bill Shankly. He once said, 'Some people try to confuse you with their language. I wouldn't say someone was avaricious, I'd say they were bloody greedy.'

People might ask what kind of football a Jamie Carragher team would play, but I don't believe managers can be categorized in such a way. The players at your disposal must dictate your philosophy. The manager of Manchester United can afford to choose to play any style he wants, recruiting the players to suit his system. Go to the bottom of the League and you'll find managers who'd love to get their side performing like Real Madrid but they don't have players capable of doing so. A good manager is one who can adapt to the resources at his disposal rather than expect his players to do what they can't.

I've already said football teams tend to reflect the personality of the boss, so I'd look to assemble a physically and mentally strong squad that understood the value of keeping possession of the ball. I'd always want two or three flair players in attacking roles, and if there's one commodity every manager agrees is proving as important as any in the modern game, it's pace. Find a player with speed and skill nowadays and you could have a world-beater on your hands.

If you ask me where I'll be in ten years' time, I'd settle for being Liverpool's assistant manager. That seems like a less pressurized role, but influential enough to give advice on where the team needs to improve. I suppose the only problem with that is whether any manager would put up with me telling him what he should do, and whether I'd get frustrated if my boss ignored my ideas. I'm bursting with so many of my own views on the game I'm sure I'd find the temptation to have a go too much to resist.

Fortunately, I've plenty of football left in my legs before I need to make my next series of momentous career choices. I'm not feeling the impact of turning thirty yet, and there are plenty of centre-halves who've gone on to thirty-four or thirty-five at the highest level. But, such are the demands at Liverpool, I can't escape a sense of trepidation when younger defenders arrive, and what that might mean for my role over the next few years. There's another phrase in English football which I can't stand and I'm determined will never be applied to me: 'squad player'. Just saying it sends a shiver down my spine. The day I'm seen as a squad player at Anfield I'll know my time is up. I might feel differently in a few years, but I'm as resolute as ever to play every second of every fixture.

I hate missing games, no matter what the occasion. There have been times I've been rested for Carling Cup matches and even that annoyed me. It hurts me to know there's a game in which I can play but I've not been selected, no matter how reasonable the explanation for my absence. That comes from a lifetime of being accustomed to preparing for each training session with a clear objective in mind. Match day. When it arrives, I expect to be involved. If I'm not, I'm not happy. I can't understand why any professional footballer wouldn't want to be doing his job when the whistle blows.

If I'm rotated more as I get older, no one will be more interested than me in my reaction to featuring in fewer games. I'm not a good substitute and I have no respect for those who've built a reputation at a big club by settling for being bit-part players, filling in when the first choices are given a rest. There are players who've averaged ten League games a season and described themselves as title winners. You'll see them when you turn on the television on the last day of a season. They're the ones popping the champagne and shoving their way into the centre of the photographs as the trophies are being presented. They talk about their honours lists as if they were central to the success, but their major contribution was usually a last ten minutes here and there and a six-out-of-ten display in a comfortable midweek home victory against Bolton or Wigan. I see such players as winners by association; they've taken a ride on the coat-tails of the great players around them because deep down they know they're not at the same level. If you're only playing around ten games a season, it's a clear hint you're at a club that is beyond your capability and you shouldn't be there.

I have more regard for someone such as Nicky Butt, who was a regular at Manchester United for years before Ferguson brought in more central midfielders. Butt could have stayed to line his pockets with medals, playing a few games here and there. Instead he opted for a fresh challenge at Newcastle where he knew he wasn't going to get the same success. It shows he had pride and would play every week for a club that wasn't competing for the title rather than make a false claim of 'winning' more at Manchester United by sitting on the bench for two thirds of the season.

If I was at Liverpool and didn't play a part in a trophy win, you wouldn't see me celebrating as much as I have on those momentous occasions in the past. That's not being selfish but being proud. I'd feel a cheat. I'd rather those who did the job grabbed all the glory. In 2001 I threw my Charity Shield winners medal into the crowd immediately after the game for precisely that reason. I'd started the match on the bench because Gérard Houllier told me he wanted to give John Arne Riise his debut against Manchester United, and he thought the experience would help him. I was only told I was on the bench when we arrived at the Millennium Stadium, and I was so furious to be left out, no contribution I made would have eased my disappointment. It was a mistake to chuck the medal away, and I got it back later, but they were my feelings then and they haven't changed seven years later. As a footballer, you only fully appreciate and understand success when you've contributed to it. I've played my part in all Liverpool's most recent victories, which is why each one is so precious.

If I'm not a regular in the side – and I hope that's many years away – I will move on. There are those who advise you to quit at the top, but I disagree. I'd love to finish my career at Anfield, but if the time comes to consider another Premier League club or a competitive Championship team (in the north, of course), I'll do so. I intend to play until my body can't take it any more. You're a long time retired in this profession and I know how much I'm going to miss the game when it comes to an end. I love playing football and won't stop until I have to.

I'll miss the routine of being a footballer because it's all I've known. It's comforting, reassuring, to know you're heading to Melwood to see the lads and train every day, and you plan your life around the calendar of the fixture list. Although I get too intense about the game sometimes and can think about it too much, I'm not sure what I'd do if it didn't matter to me professionally any more. I can't imagine having no concern about who Liverpool are trying to sign, or what day we're playing the Merseyside derby, or what match we've been scheduled on Boxing Day or over the New Year. I'll find it weird.

Once it all comes to an end, there'll be an enormous sense of emptiness. What will I do with myself? I've learned to switch off much more in recent years, taking the advice of those who've told me to enjoy the game rather than get too down when results go wrong. My wife and children have given me a focus away from the game, and there are other interests I have, although even these tend to reflect my personality. I'm a fan of the American TV comedy show
Curb Your Enthusiasm
, which is about a middle-aged guy who gets wound up by the most minor inconveniences in life. I think I see something of myself, and what I might become in the future, in the character. Maybe you'll see me walking the streets of Bootle looking like Larry David, complaining about everything and anything. I've always been a fan of
Only Fools and Horses
and
The Royle Family
too, mainly because I recognize so many of the personalities and situations from my own life.

I'm also an avid reader of books – usually sport-related, of course. I hand my family a list of new titles every Christmas so I've always something to poke my nose into on Liverpool's away trips. I've read most players' autobiographies, which was one of the reasons I was so keen to get my own thoughts off my chest. My two favourites are actually related to Manchester United:
Managing My Life
by Alex Ferguson and
Back from the Brink
by Paul McGrath.