My Liverpool Home (40 page)

As they grew, the kids knew how driven I was with my career, but also how much my thoughts were with them. When I was manager, I’d walk to the dug-out, turn round and wave up to them in their usual seats in Row 7. Paul and Kelly were treated to sweets by a lovely lady, Mrs Prince, and I often suspected that was the real reason they wanted to come to Anfield.

For all my obsession with Liverpool, being part of my children’s formative years was vital for me, even if it meant rushing away from Anfield to attend an activity at school in which the children were involved. They were reassured that their father was in the audience, watching proudly. I then dashed back to Anfield. I do look back with regrets and wish I’d seen the kids more, particularly playing sports. Lauren wasn’t especially sporty, but Kelly was always in swimming races while Lynsey competed strongly at hockey at county level. I never understood what was happening when Lynsey was running around with a stick but I loved being there.

Driving in to Anfield for games, I’d stop off and catch Paul playing for Crosby Schools at 10 a.m. During Paul’s match, my thoughts would drift towards the Liverpool match but it was good just being there, standing on the touchline, showing my support for him. In his Sunday League matches, I loved helping put up the nets and clearing the puddles, sharing all the normal match-day chores I did with my dad.

Being the son of a well-known father cannot be easy. Paul attended Rossall School with Liam Botham, a very talented sportsman who had a choice between rugby union, rugby league and cricket. When Liam avoided cricket as a career, some people felt it was because he didn’t want the comparisons with his father. I never wanted Paul to shy away from football, so when he was considering his career options, I offered some simple advice: ‘You want to play football, so go and do it. If you pick a different sport because you’re scared of comparisons, then you’ve failed twice. Look around the house. It’s full of pictures of you kicking a ball, right from a young age. It’s what you’ve always loved, always wanted to do. On you go.’

It annoyed me deeply that people compared Paul with me as a footballer, a frequent and frustrating occurrence. When he was doing well for Newcastle, Norwich and Wigan, what difference did it make what I’d done in my career? Like any player, Paul deserved to be judged on his performance, not his parentage. I must confess to finding it uncanny how similar we look on the pitch. Of the many family photographs I cherish, one of Paul particularly stands out. He’s pictured in a match, pointing his fingers as he ran in exactly the same way I did. Liverpool’s photographer, Harry Ormesher, caught me in the same posture. Paul and I are so close as father and son, so it was unbelievable to see how we resembled each other when caught up in a match.

Giving Paul advice about football was something I avoided, although I did talk to him about the correct way to behave on the field. I was sensitive to the idea that if I spoke to him, it might place pressure on him. I always kept in the background when Paul played. One day when Paul was playing for Celtic reserves, I travelled up to watch.

‘I wish you came to every game,’ said one of Paul’s coaches.

‘Why?’

‘Paul’s always brilliant when you’re here.’

That felt strange. I always worried that my presence might intimidate Paul, yet it seemed to liberate him, perhaps giving him the security to go and express himself. Some kids feel inhibited when their dads are watching, some are lifted. Nigel Clough was always magnificent when he played for his father.

Like Nigel, Paul is blessed with an incredibly strong character. I take great pride in the fact that Paul never lived off my name, and his achievements are down to his own efforts. Football is such a demanding world that no manager would ever pick a player because of his parents. Paul played for 16 years because he was good. It was disappointing he never got as far as he could have done. Yet the most emotional I’ve ever been at a game came when Paul was playing for Houston Dynamo, who’d reached the final of the MLS Cup in Frisco, Texas, on 12 November 2006. Marina and I flew over and we were wrecks just watching our son competing against New England Revolution for this great prize in American soccer. Paul did all right but then came off. I was texting Lynsey to tell her New England had scored when Brian Ching made it 1–1, forcing penalties. I was so desperate for Houston to win that I couldn’t watch. I covered my eyes. The tension was too much. Even though Paul wasn’t taking a penalty, my stomach was churning. When I heard the huge Houston roar, and Marina shout, ‘He’s missed it,’ I realised Houston had won.

It was brilliant to see Paul and the Dynamo players celebrating, sprinting all over the pitch. Deliberately, I kept out of the way. This was Paul’s day, Houston’s day, although I made sure I congratulated his coaches, John Spencer and Dominic Kinnear and consoled New England’s, Stevie Nicol and Paul Mariner. I can honestly say I have never been prouder or more ecstatic or emotional in football. I felt a greater satisfaction for Paul than I ever did for myself in winning a European Cup. Seeing Paul’s smile was my finest success in football. It helped me understand the joy my dad must have felt when I won a trophy.

Paul packed in at 31 but I knew he’d stay in the game. He loves football so much. He coached the Under-16s at Houston, worked on a big soccer camp, leading one of his teams to an all-state league title, and took his coaching badges. Paul caught the eye of Andrew Nestor, the co-owner of FC Tampa Bay Rowdies, and was named head coach in 2010. I know that Andrew has taken a bit of a gamble on Paul, who’d never been tried or tested in first-team coaching, but he started well. It helps that Paul’s got a fine eye for a player, and I know he’s built up a good network of people from his old clubs, who’ll keep him informed on players. Paul’s also blessed with an experienced number two in Perry van der Beck, who played alongside Rodney Marsh with the original Rowdies. I watch the Tampa matches streamed online and talk to Paul regularly, hearing how he does power-point presentations to prepare his players. The technology may have changed but the principles are the same. I remember when Don Revie managed England, he gave the players dossiers on the opposition. Jose Mourinho sends his players video clips.

I wouldn’t say Paul’s going to take over at Inter Milan, but Tampa’s a great stage for him. Before even considering a return to Europe, Paul must fulfil his obligations to Tampa and loyalty to Andrew. Success at Tampa will dictate whether Paul has options elsewhere. As a father and passionate football man, I’ve just loved watching Paul evolve from playing his first game to see him standing on the touchline, taking a team. I understand even more my father’s delight when I was named manager of Liverpool. All my children’s achievements fill me with pride. So does Marina’s remarkable work with her cancer charity. As I sit in my place in the Main Stand at Anfield, listening to the Kop, thinking what a special place this was to raise a family, I just thank God that I made this my Liverpool home.

19

SUMMER 2010

R
AFA BENITEZ
left Liverpool in the summer of 2010 knowing he’d done a good job. I certainly considered him a success. Rafa won the Champions League in Istanbul and the FA Cup in Cardiff. In losing to AC Milan in the Champions League final of 2007, I actually thought Liverpool looked better than they did in Istanbul. I know Rafa’s rotation policy attracted a lot of debate. Having changed the side for 99 games in succession, he played the same team for the 100th. Rafa made changes because he thought it was right. Certainly, at the beginning, there were times when I’d be sitting at Anfield, trying to work out what the starting team was and which subs would come on. I knew somebody would be coming on between 60 and 65 minutes. Rafa’s preparations were very precise.

Everybody was really looking forward to 2009–10. These weren’t pipe dreams. Hopes of doing well in the Premier League and Europe were realistic because of the team’s achievements the previous year. In the 2008–09 season, Liverpool had come as close as ever to winning the Premier League and had a fantastic head-to-head record with Chelsea, Arsenal and Manchester United. That’s why everybody thought 2010 would be a really good year. Rafa made an excellent signing in Glenn Johnson. Xabi Alonso left but Liverpool had known for a long time that he was going. The problem was the protracted nature of discussions with Real Madrid, leaving Liverpool less time to find the right replacement. Anyway, it’s difficult to replace a midfielder of Alonso’s stature. Unfortunately for Alberto Aquilani, it’s hard to come to a club of Liverpool’s stature, especially with a £20 million price tag and also being injured.

People talked about whether Rafa had been given enough money for transfers but the Liverpool board will always give as much as it can. It’s not in the club’s interests to restrict the manager and the team.There’s always been a philosophy at Liverpool that every asset should be running around on the pitch, not lying in the bank. All managers would like more. But I felt the board did as much as they could financially for Rafa.

I was still surprised he went. During the previous summer, he had revamped the Academy at Kirkby and was clearly thinking long-term. Rafa wanted to make the relationship between Kirkby and Melwood closer. That had long been missing. He inherited this problem and was determined to put it right. After such a good season, in 2008–09, it was a good time to tackle the youth develoment side. If the Academy kicks on and produces good players, he has left a great legacy.

Not too many people felt much resentment towards Rafa for going. The fans supported him because they support the position of the manager at Liverpool. They are loyal to the chair, especially in times of trouble. Rafa certainly wasn’t disliked. Some of the critics might have perceived him as cold but every time I was with him, we’d have a chuckle, tell a few stories. Rafa’s good company. It’s important to understand that Rafa Benitez is obsessed with only two things: family and football. After games, Rafa was straight on to the video, analysing play on the way back on the coach. He works an awful lot and takes very little time off. Maybe he should have rested more, although the fresh challenge of Inter Milan must have felt as good as a holiday for him. Rafa is not without feeling. He made a fantastic gesture to the Hillsborough Families Support Group with the huge donation he made to help them with their cause.

It was right for everybody that Rafa left – for him and for Liverpool Football Club. There just comes a stage in every manager’s career when the board says, ‘You’ve been good for the club but we feel it would be best if you go.’ Sometimes it works the same way for a manager – ‘I’ve done my time. There’s no animosity but it’s time to have a go somewhere else.’

When it was clear Rafa was going, Christian Purslow asked me to get involved in the selection process for the next manager. ‘I’ll help in any way I possibly can,’ I told Christian. They drew up a list, asked me to come and meet the candidates and then let them decide who the manager should be. In mid-June, I had to let them know my real views. I wanted the job. I couldn’t miss the opportunity. One day, I was in a meeting with Christian and the chairman, Martin Broughton, and I formally put my name forward.

‘We don’t want you, Kenny,’ came the reply from Christian and the chairman. Fine. That’s their prerogative. They explained they had different plans for me, a position with greater longevity.

‘We want you for a role at the club that would be for longer than the tenure of the manager,’ the board told me. The job focused on player development. It wasn’t management, though. Martin Broughton made that abundantly clear. People have asked me whether I was disappointed, and of course I was. I passionately wanted the job. But I would have been more disappointed if I hadn’t put my name forward. I love Liverpool so deeply I felt almost an obligation to apply. This was about helping Liverpool more than reviving my management career. If another club came in and asked me to be their manager, I honestly don’t know how I’d react. Liverpool’s my home. There was no self-glory attached to my application. I did feel I had unfinished business with the job, though, since my previous tenure was aborted in 1991. But I was enjoying myself with the Academy, going in, helping the kids and attending matches at Anfield. I usually find it difficult to promote myself. That’s not my nature. Liverpool were experiencing hard times and I wanted to help. If I hadn’t expressed an interest, people might have thought, ‘Well, if Kenny Dalglish doesn’t want to help, there must be big problems at Liverpool.’

When the news of my application emerged, the Liverpool punters were more favourable than not. That was reassuring. Maybe I didn’t make the wisest decision in the world in going for it. By expressing my ambition for the job, the board might think that complicated life for Roy Hodgson. They needn’t have feared. I fully respect Roy, a man I’ve known for a long, long time, ever since he was in Sweden, at Halmstads and Malmo, and he visited Melwood with Bobby Houghton. We struck up a friendship. Roy’s a very honourable and decent person, and very experienced in football. He has his beliefs in how the team should be set up, but when he arrived at Liverpool, he will have known that he had to make one or two adjustments to his system, because the individuals are different at Liverpool. No manager can just impose their style. It’s all right having a system but players dictate how it is played. When Roy came in, I knew Liverpool would be committed and well organised. He’s the type of guy players enjoy working for. He’s very honest in the way he handles players, and he speaks very well. He’ll get a great deal of respect from the players as well as the fans.

Roy must know he has walked into a world of uncertainty at Anfield, and until Liverpool are sold, the situation won’t settle down. Even then, people always feel uncertain when they have a new employer. What decisions will the new buyer make? Will he keep people? Will he want his own men in? Roy understands the situation. At his press conference, he was asked how he would cope when a new owner arrives. His answer was very good.