Arsene
‘You’ve seen me through so much and yet you still thought that I hadn’t got it in me to come through this latest test. Don’t you realise it’s in my DNA?’
Sol
He needed a good night’s sleep after his escape from Nottingham to be able to face the long day ahead. Just one night and then he was ready to go again; any sense of taking it easy was not possible let alone conceivable.
Under League regulations, Sol was unable to sign for another club until the transfer window in January but he needed to keep fit. ‘I had no idea where I was going. I didn’t have a job and really, for the first time, I truly didn’t know what was going to happen.’ He spoke with Tony Colbert, his former fitness coach at Arsenal. He asked whether he could join in some sessions. ‘I need to be fit for January, Tony. Can I work with you?’ Tony checked with Arsene Wenger who said, ‘Of course.’
‘I worked with the injured in order that I could get back to full fitness, so that was good for me,’ Sol said. ‘There were multiple sessions with balls, passes, cones, all on distance and timings, all measured.‘
He was unfit. Far worse off than he had admitted or had been told. But he worked hard. He had made the decision that he was going to come back. Nothing, not even his age at thirty-five, was going to stop him. Within two weeks, his times began to improve, not slowly but rapidly. He was getting stronger and faster. The coaching staff were surprised. When they had first seen Sol, they thought he wouldn’t come back. They wanted to tell him to forget any notion of playing at the highest level again. His physical condition was way off. But then their clocks started to tell a different story and his speed and times were improving. The coaches started to talk about it. ‘Have you seen Sol’s times?’ Like the coach who looks at his stopwatch and shakes it to his ear to check it is working properly. ‘I think we should tell Arsene something is happening here.’
Sol was being told how impressed everyone was and it made him more determined to get even stronger. But Wenger was not interested or simply not listening. He didn’t re-sign players – end of. Never had and was not going to start now. But Wenger kept being reminded by his coaches: ‘Arsene, some of Sol’s times are as good as the twenty-one-year-olds. He doesn’t seem to have lost it. He has the same skill as he always had.’
Sol kept on improving but still there was no murmur from the manager. Until, quite unexpectedly one day Sol got a message that the boss would like to see him work with the first-team squad. It is nice to be given a surprise, yes, but it is sometimes a little less nice to think how much more one could have enjoyed the surprise, if one had been forewarned about it! Here is a man who played over seventy times for England, played in three World Cups, scored in a Champions League final, played in high-pressure matches across Europe, won and lifted the FA Cup as captain, won two Premier League titles and yet that morning he felt like a young footballer on trial for his career. He knew this was his chance. And his father’s words rushed back into his conscience: ‘You have one chance. Grab it!’
Wenger was not going to make it easy. Best to know if Sol still had it and if he didn’t, then he could get on with his day without the continual nagging from his coaches. He arranged for some one-to-one sessions. Two full-sized goals, thirty seconds with the ball, and you take on each other, trying to beat your man and score in the allotted time. Wenger looks round his team. Who to choose? Who to put Sol up against? He thinks. There is a pause. Let me see now: ‘Cesc! Get ready.’
Cesc Fabregas, the young Spanish midfielder who had been at the club since he was sixteen and was fast becoming one of the best-ever players to wear the Arsenal shirt. ‘As soon as I saw Fabregas when he first came to the club, I recognised his talent. He had skill, balance, control, everything, but he also had an attitude and dedication that seems to belong to the best. I knew he would reach the top. I had no doubt,’ Sol remembers.
Sol relishes the challenge of facing Fabregas. He feels fit. He feels good. I’ll show the boss. I’ll show him what I can do. And he does. Every thirty seconds testing every part of his fitness. ‘It’s very intense, pressing on all aspects of the game.’ Sol trains as if back to the time when he was part of the Invincibles. Dennis Bergkamp said about training with Sol: ‘You would test your pace and strength against Sol. He’s your team-mate but if you can beat him, who couldn’t you beat in the Premier League?’
Fabregas, like Bergkamp in his day, was as skilful as anyone in the league. Sol’s knowledge of Fabregas’ style of football, watching him grow from a teenager, wasn’t going to help that morning. ‘When you are good, you can just flip your play, do something different. Go to the left instead of right. Never predictable, never obvious.’ He snaps his fingers. ‘The great player simply unlocks his gift. I know some managers are very meticulous. Jose Mourinho has videos of every player his team is going to play. He has studied every single move. It’s quite intense but you watch it. The centre-forward likes this. He studies the defender, the sides he doesn’t feel comfortable with, whether he likes to pass to the right when distributing out of the box. Which direction he likes to head away at corners. The same works when the defender studies the striker. Does he move to the right? Does he like to shield the ball when the ball is about to be trapped? Does he like to tap the ball a fraction forward just before he shoots? You have to realise, when you come up against certain managers, that they have studied every move from every player. But if you have four or five geniuses on the pitch, you can study whatever you like and in the end it’s worth nothing.’
After finishing with Fabregas and having a short rest, Sol sees Wenger send on another two players. It’s as if he didn’t want it to work. ‘It was not that,’ says Wenger. ‘I was resistant to going back to a former player, an ex-champion. I had never done it before. How he left the club the first time weighed heavily on my mind; the stress that overwhelmed him during that time. I didn’t want him to ever go through it again. I wasn’t sure he really knew what he was letting himself in for. It wasn’t times or skill that I was analysing; it was whether in his mind he had decided to go for it. Once I had seen he had, there was little doubt he would succeed.’
There was no denying it turned out to be a good session. Sol knew it. Wenger knew it. When it was over, coaches went over to offer their congratulations, but not Wenger. He walked away on his own, deep in thought. He has that habit of living as if to suck lemons and pretend they are not sour. Sol was neither surprised nor offended. That was Wenger’s way. And whatever Wenger had just seen, he was still arguing in his mind that he simply didn’t re-sign ex-players. It kept coming back to that fact. It didn’t fit into his philosophy. There had been rumours in the summer that he was flirting with the idea of re-signing Patrick Vieira, but nothing happened.’ It was just that: rumours. There was no truth in it,’ says Vieira. A couple of the other coaches nudged Sol as he headed to the dressing room and in a stage-whisper said, ‘You did good, Sol,’ so Wenger, who was a few metres ahead, could hear. Wenger’s assistant manager, Arsenal legend Pat Rice, gave him a smile, a slight nod. ‘I always liked Pat,’ says Sol. ‘He wanted you to work hard but with it he had a sense of humour, and was always joking.’
Sol watched Pat catch up with Wenger. The manager was walking quicker now, as if he was hiding something. Pat walked as if he had seen something. They spoke. Sol knew Pat was part of Wenger’s inner sanctum. He had been since Wenger arrived, since Sol first arrived. That’s how it works. Wenger will consult those closest to him. Give each decision a sound hearing and then find the right conclusion.
When he drove home that afternoon, Sol was thinking that he’s still at his best when he’s under pressure. Again he recalled his father saying that you have one chance, so take it. He felt like a teenager once more. He had to prove himself. Well, he felt he did. Now let’s see what happens.
Wenger kept Sol waiting. He was still trying to make up his mind, still unsure if it was a good idea to let Sol back into the Arsenal spotlight. Does he really need it? The image of Sol’s face during that final season still haunted him. Meanwhile, Sol kept going, keeping up his times and continuing to train hard. ‘I think he’s going to speak to you today,’ one of the coaches whispered but he didn’t, and the days went by and still nothing happened. Sol wasn’t going to approach Wenger and ask what was happening. No, although time was pressing, he would wait until Wenger was ready. He felt no fear of rejection. There was no time when he thought he would help hasten the decision; or beat Wenger to it by simply not turning up and playing hard to get.
Funnily enough, on the day it happened Sol wasn’t even thinking about his future. Wenger approached him with forced ease and asked Sol to come to his office. The same office they had met in before he left the first time. The same office where he met Wenger to ask what was happening when he was dropped.
When he walked to his office he thought of the old adage, that in football you are only as good as your last game. And for Sol and Wenger, that was the Champions League final in Paris. Suddenly, he steps further back in time and remembers the games he played at Highbury; the glories and the few disappointments. The last game ever played at the old stadium, when Thierry Henry scored a hat-trick in a 4-2 over Wigan on 7 May 2006. How, at the end, he walked inquisitively from one end of the pitch to the other, like a schoolboy on a long train for the first time, insisting on seeing it all from the first carriage to the last. He thinks of the history of that day. He thought it was, until this moment, the perfect setting to end his Premier League appearances for the club. He recalls hours spent in the dressing room when he first arrived and was quiet, just listening to everything going on around him. It all seems a long time ago. Now, if he came back he would be the senior statesman; the player who would show the youngsters how to conduct themselves, play the game. He looked forward to taking on that role. He sensed the younger players needed his advice, his guidance. He had seen some of them disappear far too quickly after the training sessions, as if escaping something or other. He wasn’t sure what the rush was, especially when he saw they all needed to work harder to improve their game.
He knocks hard on the door. He knocks again.
‘Come in!’
He sits opposite Wenger. A man he has the upmost respect and loyalty for; surely the backbone of any good relationship. A man who dominated his thoughts over the last few weeks, far more than ever before. He knew that his destiny rested with him. There’s a pause and then Sol is told that the club wants to sign him for the last six months of the season. They liked the way he had been training, improving every week. Wenger had been watching him carefully. There was still a bit of work to do, but he was confident that Sol would reach the standard that’s needed. He starts mapping out the whole deal. You will be paid this if you play this number of games, etc. ‘This is good for you and good for me,’ Wenger says. He pauses and then slowly explains how he sees the coming weeks working out: ‘To be the cover and teach the young players how to prepare and how to be professional.’ He sighed. ‘If you can do that as well, I’ll be very happy, as it is needed.’ Funny, thought Sol, I was thinking about that just before knocking on your office door.
This is good, Sol thinks. He is buzzing inside. He hasn’t felt so excited since he first joined Arsenal. And now he’s back and will be playing at the Emirates for the first time.
When he drove away from the training ground, he switched on the radio and felt contentment. The wounds that had scarred his final season with Arsenal had finally been healed in the last hour. He hadn’t realised they were still open until that morning. Strange, how you can carry so much around and sometimes not notice it.
In the car, for a moment he reflects back to the point where he stood up, as the meeting with Wenger drew to a close, shook the boss’ hand and said, ‘I’m up for this!’
I’ve worked for this and now I’ve got it!
• • •
Everyone at the club felt that Wenger would eventually sign up Sol. The doubt as much as anything was that he hadn’t done it before and it wasn’t his style to start something he believed was fundamentally a retrograde decision. ‘It is very unusual to bring a player back, but I always say you can never say never,’ said Wenger.
Sol would be cover for Thomas Vermaelen and William Gallas. Philippe Senderos was loaned out to Everton for the rest of the season. The Swiss defender, who’d been heralded by Wenger as the future of the club – and had taken Sol’s place in defence back in the day – was no longer needed.
It was officially announced on 15 January 2010 that Sol Campbell had re-signed for Arsenal. He would wear the number 31 shirt. ‘It gives us an opportunity to have one more centre-back,’ said Wenger. ‘He’s worked very hard and we’ve given him the opportunity to re-launch his career. For us, it is a good help until the end of the season. For him, it is a good opportunity to show he can play in the Premier League again. I think he showed he is motivated, he’s happy to be back.’
The training became even more intense. Sol knew his time would come. He was living those weeks since agreeing the deal personally with Wenger with the certainty that he would have centre stage again, and a conviction that he would not let anyone down. He was in better shape than he had been for a long time; he thinks probably four years. His time with Portsmouth was disciplined but different in its intensity. ‘Arsenal were in another league in the way they conducted their fitness. My weight just dropped off.’
For his first game back in the Arsenal team, he played in an FA Cup tie against Stoke. Arsenal lost 3-1 but Sol did not let his team down and kept up with the pace. The following Wednesday, he came on as a substitute for Vermaelen in the 35th minute of the 0-0 draw away to Aston Villa in the Premier League. His appearance made Sol only the third player up to that point to have played in all eighteen seasons of the Premier League since its inception in 1992 (Ryan Giggs and David James were the other two).
But it was his first game back at the Emirates that moved him far more than he anticipated; a 5-0 home win against Porto, which helped Arsenal advance to the quarter-finals of the Champions League. Sixty-thousand voices welcomed Sol back; he heard the cheers that night.
What a stadium, he thinks, as he runs onto the pitch. What a welcome. I’ve worked damn hard for this and now I ’m going to prove to all those doubters who had written my obituary how wrong they were. The change in his character as he ran on the pitch appeared out of nowhere, with a precision and knowhow that spoke of years of experience on the battlefields of football grounds throughout the world. ‘Be careful of quiet people, for there’s nothing more deadly than the gentle pushed too far.’ If his career was reaching its final act, then he was ready. Bring it on. It’s showtime. ‘I was fully prepared for every eventuality. I heard later that Porto’s pre-match talk was all about them “taking advantage of Sol Campbell, he’s past it.” Well, I was turning back into a Ferrari, thanks to the Arsenal coaching staff. Tony Colbert helped change that chapter of my life and I will always be grateful.’
Gallas’ injury and Vermaelen’s suspension meant Sol continued his run in the first team. The thought of playing just three games was quickly forgotten. He was important again, the main man in the centre of defence and his form was growing with each ninety minutes. Wenger said to Sol, after one of the early games: ‘Hey Sol, you are looking like a footballer now.’ His team-mates agreed. Andrei Arshavin ran up to Sol after training and said that he had his doubts when he first saw his movement. He had thought to himself that Sol had a long way to go. And yet, two weeks later, he had already been proved wrong. ‘Huh,’ Arshavin said, ‘I will never doubt you again.’
You’d better not, thought Sol.
The players were able to see Sol more in the round than any previous squad. He cherished his role as the club’s senior statesman, an experienced man on top of things. He was more vocal than he had ever been in previous Arsenal dressing rooms. The Lee Dixons and players from his first season at Arsenal would not have recognised him. They were bewildered by his silence, never convinced they would ever get to know the true Sol, a few either not bothered or unable to intellectually lift themselves into understanding someone different. Footballers aren’t good at that. Lee Dixon tells a story that when he was in the coach heading to a game, Tony Adams asked how he was feeling. He answered that he was fine. When Adams openly said that he was feeling a little down, some players clustered nearby playing a game of cards gave each other a silent look, the lifting of the eyes. Most footballers aren’t good in dealing with any sense outside the norm. But Sol was happier than he had been before in the Arsenal strip.
The intensity of the season was difficult for Sol’s fitness. He lamented the passing of days when he could play on a Wednesday, followed by the weekend, without thought. But those days were over. He could play once a week. Now, when he left the pitch, he felt it. Felt every pull on every muscle. ‘I couldn’t play as many games as I wanted. It took too much out of me.’
He missed out on the Barcelona away game in the Champions League in April because of this schedule, and was very disappointed. He knew when he was picked for the Wolves game on the Saturday that he had no hope of making the game at the Nou Camp in the second leg of the Champions League the following Tuesday. Arsenal won the Wolves game with a goal in added time by Nicklas Bendtner and kept their league title aspirations alive, but Sol questioned why he hadn’t been kept for the all-important Barcelona game. His disappointment was well-hidden, he was good at that. He had been doing it all his life. There would be no grumbling, no self-pity. He could still revert to the Old Sol; the one no-one knew what he was feeling, what he was thinking.
He sat on the bench and watched Arsenal get knocked out of Europe, losing 4-1 after drawing the first leg 2-2 at the Emirates. He couldn’t have gone on, even if he had been called. Well, maybe he could have dragged himself off the bench, but he would have moved about like a rigid old tram.
A couple of days after they returned from Barcelona, Sol went up to Wenger. Perhaps he should demand an explanation from the boss. Their relationship had matured. He was better at communicating now. Sol asked his question and Wenger replied that it was more important for him, and therefore the club, that he played in the League game. ‘We can still win the League,’ he said.
They had one moderately large clash, when Wenger tore into him after the Champions League first leg defeat away to Porto, less than a month after his return to the first team for his second spell with Arsenal. Sol back-passed a free-kick to his goalkeeper, which was intercepted by Falcao, who scored the winner in a 2-1 Arsenal defeat. ‘After the game, he kept blaming me when the goalkeeper should have just kicked the ball off to the sidelines. He did not have to pick up the ball,’ Sol says innocently, accepting no responsibility. He felt Wenger was being ‘a bit harsh’. He had scored Arsenal’s opening goal and thought he had played reasonably well. But here was the same authoritative voice he had heard for years. He had seen it all before. That’s what age and experience does. You’ve proved your talent, succeeded or failed a long time ago. But it still irritates. Wenger seemed to be making an example of him. He hadn’t turned on anyone else when the Arsenal performance was littered with mistakes. Sol wanted to say, ‘I think you’re wrong.’ Instead, he remained quiet and, when Wenger finished his overlong tirade, he turned away and walked to the showers. ‘He is wrong,’ he mumbled to himself.
• • •
The season ended with Sol making fourteen appearances for the first team. Arsenal finished third in the Premiership. The signing had been a success. No-one was sure it would be, except Sol himself. He never had a doubt. His focus, discipline and commitment, which people close to him recognised, had never left him even in the last acts of his career. He proved that in the years since he left Arsenal, he had regained his strength of mind. When he first left, it had been at its lowest; now it was strong again. It is sometimes easy to make yourself the hero of your own story, but over these few months he had rescued himself from a lack of fitness, shortage of matchplay and no club to play for, back to being one of the best central defenders in probably the best league in the world.
Arsenal immediately offered him a new contract. Sol began to negotiate but the two sides were unable to agree. And then, before negotiations could be continued, Wenger took off to South Africa to commentate on the World Cup. By the time they spoke again, Wenger had lost interest. He already had two names in mind for his defence, Laurent Koscielny and Sebastien Squillaci, both of whom he would eventually sign.
Wenger was straightforward: ‘I feel you’ve moved on and so have I. I think it’s best to leave it there…’ He made the same decision with Thierry Henry a few years later. A champion needs to know when he should move on. ‘Thierry came back, played again, and, like Sol, gained the respect of everyone. We had the opportunity to do it again and I said to him, let’s not do this anymore. Let’s finish on a high and that’s what I wanted to explain to Sol. It’s always difficult for great players to know when to stop. It’s very difficult to lose, at a very young age, your passion, your fame and the money. Usually by your mid-thirties, you have to go in search of a new beginning.’
They agreed. Before Wenger said his goodbye he said: ‘You surprised me last season, Sol. I never knew you had it in you.’
What a strange thing for Wenger to say, thought Sol. Those words stung. How could he even question his resolve and ability to succeed? This Frenchman who providence had chosen to be the most prominent manager of his career still didn’t understand him. ‘When he said those words, it really hurt. I thought, you’ve seen me through thick and thin, you’ve seen me sick, at my worst, at my best. You’ve seen me through so much and yet, you still thought I hadn’t got it in me to come through this latest test. Don’t you realise it’s in my DNA? I can’t get rid of it.’
Sol felt insulted. He felt underrated. Wenger is clear he was misunderstood: ‘He misinterpreted what I said to him. What I wanted to say was that he had aged, and that I didn’t expect as much quality from him as he had shown. I did not question his dedication, as I knew he had the fight in him, but I didn’t expect him to be as good as he was. I thought he had lost some of his qualities; that was what I wanted to tell him. He was absolutely heroic and gained the respect of everyone.’
But Sol had not heard this. He switched off his phone, left his house and walked along the Embankment, immediately thinking of the old days; the days when he was considered by most as being one of the best defenders in the world. It is difficult for him to think in those terms; he doesn’t like to think of himself as anything other than the hard-working professional he was. ‘I recognised the cards I had been dealt and I’ve done my hardest to change them. I didn’t have the best education and connections, but I worked every day to better myself, to prove myself.’
It is a warm afternoon and he is grateful for a sudden shot of cool air bouncing off the river. He passes a couple of tourists. One of whom says out loud, ‘There goes Sol Campbell!’ Sol hears what is said and walks on, a little faster than before. This is no time to stop. This is a time to be alone with his thoughts. He senses his career is coming to an end. Arsenal isn’t going to work and Celtic, who had made an enquiry, didn’t appeal. He wants to keep playing but for the right club. ‘No more mistakes,’ he says out loud. He had just proved he could get back to the top, whoever may have doubted it. He thinks of the England squad out in South Africa, and is irritated again he’s not there. Such a wasted opportunity, he thinks. I could have done a good job for the country. Is this what happens? That outside forces choose when you get off the train? It isn’t your own decision to say I won’t play anymore, thank you, I’m getting off at this stop? No-one warns you how it can end. As someone once said: ‘Play as long as you can because you are a long time retired.’
He keeps thinking. A thousand thoughts race through his mind, like cattle in a stampede. Is there a man out there who understands me? The ‘off the cuff‘ remark by Wenger, which was surely meant to be a compliment, had sent Sol into a tailspin. It had brought up thoughts of anxiety. He walked away from the Embankment to his favourite Italian, a sanctuary of sorts. It is the same one where he met those two men from Notts County but the memory has not soiled his fondness for the place. It is quiet, except for a wise-looking old man, who is devouring a large bowl of pasta. He eats quickly, as if late for an appointment. Sol is not in a hurry. He sits down at a table on the pavement and puts his head between his hands. He is quite alone thinking about his future. He looks up at the waiter. ‘I’ll have a coffee, please.’ The waiter who would usually give a cheerful hello, this time does not. He senses Sol wants to be left alone.
• • •
He didn’t know it then but he still had a year left of his career. He was asked by his friend Chris Hughton, who was managing Newcastle, to join him on a one-year contract. ‘I wanted him at Newcastle for his presence and the experience he could bring to the team,’ says Hughton. It seemed like the perfect move to finish his career. His soon-to-be wife Fiona was from the area, passionate about the club and they had recently bought a property 25 miles west of the city.
He made his Newcastle debut in the third round of the League Cup against Chelsea, and then in the Premier League on 3 October 2010 in a 2-1 defeat to Manchester City. Throughout his time at Newcastle he struggled for fitness, and six months after arriving, his friend Hughton was fired. He was very upset by the decision: ‘He got sacked because they wanted to get someone else in. I couldn’t understand why. He was doing well for them. He had got them promoted, and was maintaining the club in the top half of the league. He took that club out of the gutter, made it something, gave it dignity, gave it confidence and worked tirelessly throughout the time he was there. He gave everybody a hundred per cent. It was one of the more senseless decisions I witnessed in my career.’
Sol left the club when the season was over. It had not been the finale he had dreamed of.
• • •
The wise man orders a coffee as his plate of pasta is taken away. A boy plays keepie-uppie with a 1970s-style football by the side of the road. He plays with the ball with such deftness, it looks beautiful; he has everything ahead of him. Sol recognises contentment in the boy’s eyes.
Where will Sol find tranquility now? Where was he going to find his hunger for contentment and peace of mind? In the past, if he ever lost his inner peace, he had always managed to rediscover it back on the football field. When times had been difficult, it was on the field with full fitness where he eventually reclaimed his equilibrium, and a sudden peace would flow through his body. His longing for that feeling would not have been so poignant, if it hadn’t been for his childhood home and his escape into the streets and the nearby park.
Just as he was feeling as alone as he had been for a long time, he sees his future wife Fiona and mother of his children, walking towards him. It reminds him of when he was a little boy, looking out of the window waiting for his mother to return from work. His father would be asleep upstairs or be downstairs, paying no attention to his youngest son; his mother representing the comfort and affection he was so in need of. As Fiona is about to reach the table, he recognises that she is someone who does understand him. Probably knows him better than anyone has ever done. Perhaps better than himself; his sins, his needs, his desires. Someone who will keep him company in the days ahead and is able to understand those chapters he found difficult to talk about. ‘She’s been my rock, a woman who gave me back my belief in life, and an ability to trust in people again. I was falling out of love with a lot of things. I shut down and withdrew into a shell – perhaps as a form of self-preservation, not wanting to be exposed to hurt – but Fiona found a way to open me up, showed that it was safe to emerge, and taught me how to love again.’ He needs her.
And, although his playing career was nearing its close, he saw, like the kid playing with the ball, the possibilities for his future were endless.
