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LIVERPOOL – THE THIRD COMING

After I finished in Thailand, the big thing I missed more than anything was playing. You miss the laughs, the piss-taking and the friendship, too – but you really miss playing the game itself. When I did ITV’s Harry’s Heroes: The Full English in 2018, the common agreement was every one of us players immediately said yes to the invitation because we wanted to revel in the buzz of the camaraderie one more time.

It’s hard to explain if you’ve never played a team sport week in, week out, all your life, but the kind of witty, cruel, cutting and often hilarious repartee you get, in and around the training ground, is strangely addictive. Just through being there and being part of it, it sharpens your own act and, honestly, the back and forth, ripping and ribbing off each other is just brilliant craic! I sometimes wish I’d installed CCTV cameras in the Liverpool changing rooms at the height of the mid-90s badinage. Neil Ruddock and John Barnes could have done stand up – they were so quick-witted, nothing but nothing was off-limits! It was a joy when I was reunited with the pair of them for Harry’s Heroes and along with Merse, Matt Le Tissier and the gang, we immediately tore into one another’s clothes, hair (or lack of it), paunches, teeth and breasts. Needless to say, the svelte, athletic recruits like myself and Lee Sharpe were continually reminding the less disciplined chaps about their expanding waistbands, but this was nothing compared to how Ruddock and Barnes would wind each other up.

John is known for his love of fried chicken so, one afternoon, Razor had a massive order of KFC delivered to JB’s house. Seriously, there was enough to feed an entire squad! I still don’t know whether Digger knew it was a prank. He just shrugged, brought the chicken in and set about demolishing it, then, when the TV crew revealed themselves, he just said, ‘Spicier, next time, please.’

But, even more than the repartee, we all agreed that it’s the actual pulling on kit and lacing your boots and playing a proper, competitive game that you miss most of all. Just as, first time round, I didn’t get the chance to say a proper farewell to the Anfield fans, I never really had a moment where I thought, okay, that’s it, my work here is done. There was no official announcement, no press statement to a heartbroken nation, I just stopped getting realistic offers and therefore didn’t have a choice to make.

Once it dawned on me that I’d retired at the tender age of 37, I jumped at any and every opportunity to play again. Since Sky TV instituted its own version of veterans’ five-a-side with their Masters Football in the early 2000s, Liverpool had been, well – Masters of the Masters. With a talent pool of recently retired players like John Barnes, Jan Molby, Steve McManaman and John Aldridge at our disposal, along with LFC’s long-standing infatuation with the short-form game, it’s no surprise that Liverpool became the team to beat. I jumped at the chance of turning up in the red shirt again and, from the Masters, that whole Liverpool Legends scene grew. It’s quite a huge thing these days, with the Legends travelling the globe to play exhibition games and charity fundraisers against equivalent veteran teams from Real Madrid (Leyendas) and AC Milan (Glorie). Modesty prevents me from listing some of the TRULY OUTSTANDING GOALS I’ve notched in that ridiculously snug-fitting shirt.

Oi, Liverpool Legends kit manufacturer! Why the snug kits?

It seemed like a logical progression from the Legends when I became an official Liverpool Ambassador over the summer of 2014. Straight away, I was off to Chicago for the pre-season match against Olympiakos at Soldier Field. Working as an ambassador has been something of a Libero role for me. The best part is that you get to travel the world in your LFC blazer and meet thousands and thousands of diehard Liverpool fans from far-flung places. These fans are sometimes a little snottily referred to as ‘tourists’ or ‘OOTs’ (Out of Towners), as though their support is somehow less valid than that of someone from, say, Bootle, who goes to every game. Don’t get me wrong, that Bootle fan is, it goes without saying, a proper, committed Red – but I often think, especially after having met so many brilliant overseas fans face-to-face, that we’re a bit spoilt, getting to see the team we love, week in, week out. Try being that Liverpool-mad kid in Lapland trying to follow the game on a dodgy stream, or the hardy supporters’ groups who set their alarms at some godforsaken hour every week so they can meet up with their fellow Reds in a downtown bar in Perth, San Diego or Bandung to cheer the team on.

That’s not to mention the time, dosh and dedication those fans who travel hundreds, thousands, sometimes tens of thousands of miles devoted to the love of their lives – following Liverpool. Some might only come once a season, but whether we’re playing Burnley on a rainy Sunday or Barcelona in a Champions League showdown, that trip to Anfield means the world to them. And that’s why the ambassador job is so brilliant. Not to sound cheesy, but it means the world to me, wherever I go, being reminded that, even though I hung my boots up a while ago now, my time as Liverpool’s Number 9 (and 23, and 11!) has meant something special to all these people – I’ll never get blasé about that.

Over my five years as an ambassador I’ve also taken some specialist striker training and academy masterclasses, helping the forwards with little things to work on, some ideas and techniques I’ve picked up over the years. I love being around the club and, more than anything, I love being on the training pitch. But, being out there, working with the players, organising routines and drills and presentations only whetted my appetite to put my coaching badges to full use. Every time I would get in from one of those striker sessions at Melwood or The Academy, I’d bang off a text or an email to my agents, saying, please get me a coaching job!

Brisbane Roar is a club steeped in tradition. The team’s orange shirts can be traced back to the Dutch community in Brizzy, who founded the club as Hollandia FC, back in the 50s. Footy was mainly played by Australian immigrant communities like the Italians, Slavs and Greeks, but, in 1973, there was a big move to popularise football all over Australia and clubs were encouraged to name themselves after their home towns and cities. Hollandia became Brisbane Lions, but the orange strip stayed. The new name of Brisbane Roar came with the launch of the A-League in 2005. In 2011 and 2012, the club won back-to-back A-League titles and went on a record-breaking unbeaten run of 36 games – which still stands today. But, over recent times, things have not been so great at this historic football club. The 2018–19 season saw the Roar hit rock bottom, winning only four games all season and conceding 71 goals.

I already had a modest profile in Australia after my stints at Perth and North Queensland – some might say, if I’d stood sideways on, the profile would have been even bigger … Since then I’d got my Pro Licence and I’d made my first tentative steps as a coach, but I know that my travels and my work as an LFC Ambassador played a huge part in persuading Brisbane Roar to approach me, too. We began to discuss the idea of my becoming the Roar’s manager around the start of the New Year, 2019 and those initial conversations quite quickly developed into something much more focused. It was clearly from an early stage that the Liverpool philosophy is one that has spanned the globe. For Brisbane Roar, it’s not just my ideas and methods the club is buying into, it’s also that pedigree of a near lifelong association with LFC.

We tied up the basics – coaching staff, budget, refreshing the squad and so on and, not long after my birthday in the April, the club formally invited me to become their new manager. Before flying out there, though, I had one last mission to complete as a Liverpool employee …