There was a practice match at Melwood. Two sides of eleven, made up of kids like me and a few older pros not away on international duty, were scheduled to play against each other so that the new manager, Gérard Houllier, could form some opinions about the players he had to work with.
I was desperate to be involved. Change was in the air at Liverpool. The partnership between Roy Evans and Gérard had failed and, with Roy resigning, Gérard was in sole charge.
It felt like an opportunity. I’d only featured in a few games for the reserves but in each one I’d felt comfortable.
The problem was I’d broken my wrist and it was in a plaster cast. Phil Thompson was Gérard’s assistant and he stopped me. ‘Look, you can’t play – it’s the rules.’
I was very frustrated. Fortunately, one of the other players, Richie Partridge, caught Gérard’s eye that morning. Richie was an Irish winger and he was flying at the time. Lots of people spoke about him as a potential first-team player.
Gérard decided to watch Richie in an under-19 fixture at the academy in Kirkby. It was one of my comeback games after the wrist injury. I didn’t know Gérard was going to be there but then I saw him on the side of the pitch before the match kicked off. My dad had always told me from my first day at Liverpool that football was about matching opportunities with performance. I knew this was my chance. Thankfully, I took it and a few weeks later I made my debut for the first team.
The following twelve months proved to be a transitional period at Liverpool. When 1999 turned into the year 2000, I was nineteen years old. I did not foresee success being just around the corner under Gérard but only because I was too young to really understand what it took to create a successful football team at senior level. At that age, you only think about yourself, not what is in store for the club.
I felt a long way from being a regular in the side. Gérard had sat me down and explained that I needed to strengthen my body and change my lifestyle to suit the modern game. I knew straight away that Gérard had visions for the club and wanted to restore a winning mentality. Even though I was young and trying to establish myself, I could see something special was happening and that the manager was a winner who would do anything he thought was necessary to improve the situation of the club.
A few years earlier, I had been an apprentice at Liverpool and I was aware of the Spice Boy image. There was a drinking culture and things throughout the club were perceived as not being quite as professional as they should have been.
Gérard quickly set about clearing out the players he thought weren’t prepared to do what he was asking for on and off the pitch.
For us young lads, he made it obvious early on in his reign that if we were not prepared to ride with the changes he was implementing – and come into work with a winners’ mentality – then we would not find ourselves involved in his project moving forward.
He promoted young lads into the team who he thought had the required hunger and talent, and then used more experienced professionals he believed would set the standards for everyone else.
I would watch Patrik Berger, Vladimir Šmicer, Sami Hyypiä, Jamie Redknapp and Robbie Fowler – the way they acted in games, in the dressing room and on the bus. I asked a lot of questions and tried to learn from their experience. You see professional players who do the right things and you see professionals who don’t. You learn from both.
I was fortunate in that I was in and around the scene at a time when attitudes were shifting because of Gérard’s will. The mood not only presented a chance for me to impress but it also made me realize which was the right path to follow. Had I emerged a few years earlier, I could have gotten involved with the wrong crowd and been exposed to things that were to the detriment of my career rather than my benefit: going out more, eating bad foods, listening to the wrong people.
The weight of expectation at Liverpool is enormous. Whether you are a player or a manager, the shadows of the past loom over you. When Gérard was appointed, Liverpool had not won the league for eight seasons and yet the demand for that to happen remained – and that’s the way it should be at Liverpool.
Gérard revolutionized the club in terms of the way it operated and hauled it into the twenty-first century quicker than anyone could have imagined. The 2000–01 season will be remembered by all of those involved, player or supporter. Jamie Carragher speaks about it as his favourite season in a long career but he was a little bit older than me and probably appreciated more what it all really meant.
In the treble season, I felt young and naive. I felt like I was still learning and that I was nowhere near being the finished article. I was still coming to terms with being a first-team player.
The campaign ended with three trophies in a few months and qualification for the Champions League for the first time since it ceased being the European Cup. If you think about how difficult that would be to achieve for any team now, you realize just what a brilliant story it was. I don’t think the feat will be matched for a long time.
The following season we finished second in the league – the strongest performance since 1990. And yet this period of success fell between a few fallow years and the immediate glory achieved under Rafael Benítez in 2005 with that amazing night at the Ataturk Stadium, winning the most important trophy in European competition for the first time in twenty-one years.
Gérard’s contribution probably doesn’t receive the credit it deserves because it gets diluted by what happened in Istanbul. On a personal level, I know what Gérard did for me. If you’re a proper football person and analyse what Gérard achieved, it was incredible.
Take the trophies away and what did he do for the football club? It was in a far better position when he left than when he joined. He rebuilt the team and installed a mentality that Rafa was able to develop. Rafa would not have immediately achieved what he did at Liverpool had Gérard not created a much more professional set-up first. That’s not a criticism of Rafa, it’s just something that’s impossible to ignore.
It became more difficult for us to win trophies as the decade progressed. Liverpool were still competing on the highest stage but Chelsea had emerged from the pack and Manchester City were gradually becoming a force too. On top of that, Manchester United and Arsenal were there. The competition at the top arguably became more ferocious than ever.
Not many people seem to recognize it but I think Gérard and Rafa were very similar managers in terms of the teams they created, which were compact, very aggressive with the ball, no spaces between the lines and had a solid defence. There were also match-winners within the line-up. Both were so thorough in their preparation, and that, when married with good, determined players, always gives you a chance.
The difference was their personalities. Both personalities got the best out of me. Gérard was a strong man-manager. He acted as a father figure. He looks out for your family and checks on what you are doing away from the game, putting in a lot of time and effort to work on personal relationships. When you go out to play for him and you don’t perform, you feel like you are letting a family member down.
Rafa went the other way. He tries to inspire by provoking reactions. He leaves you searching for praise and that drives you on. There is a distance and a coldness with him. In every training session and game, I needed to prove myself to try to earn love from him. Looking back now, he was good for me. He helped me reach my peak as a footballer.
By the end of the 2000s, Liverpool was barely recognizable in comparison to the club that began the decade. Hundreds of players had come and gone, with new managers came new staff and, meanwhile, the owners had changed as well.
When I first broke into the team, David Moores was in charge, a local man who cared deeply about the success of Liverpool as a football club. By the end of the decade, we were in American hands. Whereas before, Liverpool felt like it was a family-run institution, as 2009 became 2010 it had turned into more of a business. Liverpool was not alone. Most clubs have experienced similar stories.
Gérard had made a big decision to make me captain as a twenty-three year old and it was the position I held until I left when I was thirty-four.
The captaincy of Liverpool is a duty you have to enjoy and embrace, otherwise it will drag you down. It was sink-or-swim time when I was appointed, because I was still developing as a player and probably not quite ready for it as a person.
I was lucky that I had a leader behind me in Jamie Carragher, who was my eyes, my ears and also my voice. Even though I had the armband on, Carra’s influence was enormous. My relationship with him became very strong.
At any big club, the captaincy is a huge responsibility. At Liverpool, I recognized quickly it wasn’t just about leading the team out once a week. It’s a 24/7 job every single day. As a person, you have to develop and if at any point you feel like the responsibility is too big, too heavy or too pressured, you’re not made for it.
The decade was not without its problems. There were some difficult times, especially towards the end. As captain you have to find a way to rise above them and power on.
Steven Gerrard