Arsenal

‘Winning means you’re willing to go longer, work harder and give more than anyone else.’

Vince Lombardi

The weather was surprisingly warm for so early in the morning. Sol woke and immediately sat up. He liked, as he always had, the sense of some real peace and solitude. Today was more important than ever. He wanted to be ready. It was going to be the day he would announce to the football world his transfer; and, the day his family and friends would find out. It was part of his personality to have kept it to himself. Not the odd remark here or there, pandering to the million or so questions he was constantly asked during this time. The only person who knew was his mother and she hadn’t taken in the magnitude of his forthcoming move. As long as Sol was happy, she would be. ‘Whatever he did was fine with me. He is a good boy,’ she says.

Sky arrived at Sol’s 1970’s Hertfordshire house very early. He was in good time. He hadn’t slept well the night before. He had the sort of sleep, when you’ve been dreaming that you’ve been dreaming, which comes near to waking. He asked Sol if he was ready. Sol nodded to his agent; he was fine. They didn’t hang around. There was no casual morning walk in the large garden, which ran down to a brook. No time to clear one’s head. It was all a little tense. ‘Come on, let’s get going,’ said Sky. He would drive Sol to the training ground, where the announcement would take place. He had collected a stack of morning papers. There were no rumours; nothing had been written. Almost unbelievable in this day and age.

• • •

It comes as a surprise. A short journey down the A41 and you’re in Totteridge; an idyllic country backwater a few miles from Central London. The large family house is welcoming as soon as you drive onto the gravel. At the back, from the terrace, you look out on to a large finely cut lawn shaded by oaks, weeping willows and silver birch. The place has a sense of tranquility, a calm. On the rare midsummer evenings when all is still, you can hear the cries of birds and other creatures hidden in the undergrowth.

Leading up to his transfer, Sol, along with Sky Andrew, met David Dein and Arsene Wenger at Dein’s house twice. He met Dein on his own a further three times. Because of Sol’s longing for secrecy, they always met very late at night. The first meeting with all four took place at the end of May. ‘It was after Spurs made the announcement that Sol was leaving,’ Sky says.

Wenger had noticed Sol’s play and stature as soon as he set eyes on him. ‘I had Thierry Henry who used to pass people for fun. But with Sol, there was a wall. It was as if he was indestructible, such a power spread from him. There was something special there. I wanted him in my side and told David Dein that.’ Dein said that he would try to recruit Sol.

Dein called Sky Andrew and asked if Sol was going to renew his contract at Tottenham. Just asking; nothing more. He knew the rules. Sky said he was still undecided. There was still a chance but Sol would not entertain anything else until he got to the point where he was moving on. Fine. Dein had the sagacity to see that it was unlikely he would re-sign. He would leave it for now but call Sky again once the 2000-01 season was over and Sol was out of contract. He did. Dein immediately asked directly what the possibility was of Sol joining Arsenal. ‘I don’t know to be honest,’ Sky answered. He promised that he would put the question to Sol. Dein trusted Sky. ‘Sky Andrew has the highest quality. One of the real good guys in football. Punctual, discreet and efficient,’ Dein says.

Sky put down the phone and rang Sol. He was interested.

Dein and Wenger made a powerful pair. Both as sleek as cats. The perfect blend of a man who knew how to pitch his club as the best in the country and a manager, tactically astute, who spoke the same philosophical language as Sol, with a mentality he installed and reinforced in a player’s psyche. ‘David Dein made me feel protected. He was going to help and promised to be there for me,’ Sol recalls. ‘Come to us, he said, and you will be part of our family. We will protect you.’ He couldn’t have said anything better.

It was a positive first meeting. Dein and Wenger had impressed. They encouraged confidence. They were ambitious for their club and wanted the best. ‘I recognised at our first meeting that he was a complex man who didn’t show his cards,’ Wenger remembers. ‘I also met a very deep person. I saw someone who liked reality, nothing superficial. He wanted to hear the truth. Not compliments. He didn’t want to hear from a sycophant.’ They all shook hands firmly. ‘I liked him,’ says Wenger, ‘because from that first meeting and beyond, when he gave his word, I knew he was committed. I have seen so much talent but respect is more linked at the end of the day not with the talent, but with the vision you have of the man. When he says he is committed to go to war for you, I know he will fight for his team until the very end.’

Dein concurs: ‘I liked him immediately. He is a deep thinker and I immediately felt fatherly towards him.

‘Yes this sounds and feels good,’ Sol thinks and is his usual calm self. He isn’t going to rush into anything. Never has. They wouldn’t be expecting an immediate decision anyway. Dein had told him to take his time. ‘Call me if you’d like to meet again to discuss things further. I will be here.’ Sol felt their interest was unshakeable; they wanted him. He could see it clearly. He was tempted. Very tempted, even more so when he thought of the most important factor – the quality of Arsenal’s players. It is said that if a group of people hang around each other for long enough, the quality they possess will somehow brush off on each individual. In this case, the quality was obvious; yes, what a squad he could be part of. He didn’t think for one moment that he was being disloyal to Spurs and their fans. He had given them good and loyal service right up to the end of his contract. They had never tried to sit him down, like Dein and Wenger just did. Told him he was wanted. That he was their future. It was the truth. He’s looked back at that time again and again, especially after all the things he’s gone through, and says, with hand on heart, that Spurs never said he was truly wanted. Yes, they made him an offer but they never said, ‘We love you and want to build a team around you.’

‘Whether you believe me or not, they never took that extra yard to keep hold of me.

• • •

‘Well. What do you think?’ Sky asked, as the car drove away from Dein’s home after their first meeting.

‘Yes, it was good. Very good,’ Sol replied.

But first, he had other business to attend to. He was being courted by two of Europe’s most famous clubs: Inter Milan and Barcelona were still pursuing him.

• • •

He did not fly direct to Milan. He had spoken to a friend, ex-Crystal Palace footballer Dean Gordon, who was going to Monaco to attend an event. ‘Come with me to the South of France,’ Dean said. Sol agreed. He could see Monaco for the first time and then go on to Milan, a three-hour drive away.

In Monaco, Sol attended the Laureus World Sports Awards at the Grimaldi Forum hosted by Heidi Klum and Gregory Hines. Tiger Woods and Cathy Freeman won the top awards and anyone who was anyone in the city was invited to an event full of bright summer dresses, with sportsmen looking their best. Before he reached the party, he was in a boat in the harbour when a tender passed by and this massive man shouted out across the water: ‘Hey, Sol!’ ‘I thought, who the hell is this guy?’ says Sol. Later on he bumped into the same man at the Laureus party. He looked at Sol with intense interest and Sol wasn’t sure if he was very interested to introduce himself, very myopic or both. He finally announced he was Paul Kemsley, a new director at Tottenham; just one of life’s coincidences. Kemsley had established a property and securities company, Rock Joint Ventures, with the help of ENIC and Spurs chairman Daniel Levy. Rock was an investor and developer of commercial and residential property. Kemsley told Sol to relax, not to worry about ‘all this transfer stuff’. He would sort it. Too late. Far too late, Sol thought. He felt very calm. He was going somewhere else, to another team, maybe even Inter. Whoever signed him would get one of the best defenders in the world. He had never felt so confident of his talent. Never.

The drive to Milan is uneventful. The weather has remained fine, the roads easy. Finding the Inter corporate offices proves a little more difficult. The GPS at first leads them to the wrong street. Milan is light on traffic; it’s the middle of summer and the Milanese have headed to the seaside, but it doesn’t seem to help Sol navigate a maze of streets. He stops to ask someone the way. He swears he hears the man laugh. Perhaps he’s an AC Milan supporter sending him to the rival offices? They aren’t too far away now. But the traffic lights are red on each block. When you’re in a hurry, they’re always red; when you’re not, they’re green all the way. A policeman holds up his hand and stands poised in the air, like a yogi. It’s all right for him to look so pleased with himself; he’s not in a hurry. Come on, thinks Sol. I don’t want to be late. It is the only time he gets flustered, if he thinks he’s going to be late. Eventually they get there. Dean leaves Sol and drives away. He might have said, ‘Good luck.’ Sol doesn’t remember.

He takes a deep breath and enters the building. He is immediately asked upstairs. There is no waiting. He is meeting Inter’s sporting director, Giuliano Terraneo, and owner, Massimo Morrati, the son of Angelo Morrati who led the famous club through their golden age. Since Massimo took over, he has dreamt of emulating his father’s success. In 2001, he had yet to succeed.

Tall, grey haired, bespectacled and in a dark blue suit, Massimo Morrati is charming, a man who makes an impression without even trying. He welcomes Sol. He offers coffee; the best Sol has tasted in any meeting. He then drinks mineral water, which is poured by the owner himself. ‘We shall arrange everything,’ he says; the royal ‘we’, as if anything is possible. He speaks of the history of the club, the scudettos they’ve won, outlining their plans for the future, what action is going to be taken to make his club, our club, great again. He encourages confidence. Sol is tempted. He strokes his chin; he hasn’t shaved. ‘And now you will be taken to our stadium and the training ground.’ He makes for the door but not before Morrati has said, ‘I hope we meet again.’ He acts as if he has just hosted a fine dinner party. Nice man, thinks Sol.

It was the duty of Giuliano Terraneo to take Sol to the San Siro. He leads Sol out into a waiting Mercedes, driver at the ready. The ground is not far. Well, it certainly doesn’t seem far. This time the lights are green all the way. As the car motors through the city to the stadium, Sol gives a passing thought to East Road, to Tottenham, how he has begun to feel wanted by those he has recently met. It’s not a tough science for owners and managers to understand what their top players need; it’s often no more than a little bit of love. Sometimes it’s staring them straight in the face.

‘He asked many questions. He wanted to know everything,’ remembers Terraneo. Sol is guided round the San Siro like a tourist. After visiting the dressing rooms, media room, and executive boxes, he walks onto the pitch. There isn’t a soul in the stadium. No-one marking the pitch, no-one in the stands. A white sun illuminates an utter stillness. He feels totally alone and thinks of the legends who graced this field: the great Italian defender Facchetti, the backbone of La Grande Inter Burgnich, Picci, and Milan’s Baresi and Maldini. The imagination fills what the ears cannot hear. Eighty thousand fans chanting for their heroes, a chorus of cat calls for the opposition. He looks up to the very top tier where surely the fans can hardly see anything going on but just live with the chants of fellow supporters. The vast overhang on one side of the stadium shadows half the pitch. Sol walks away from the shadow and is met by the burning sunlight. He’s suddenly lost in the moment. And then the sprinklers turn on and he wakes from his daydream.

Inter’s training ground is named after Angelo Moratti and is 40km outside the city, in Como. Built in 1961, at the time it represented a new age of football. But now, as Sol concludes his tour of his new suitors at their training facilities, it is beginning to look a little tired. The pool is small, the dressing rooms dilapidated. It gives the impression of an Italian stately home that has been in the family for years and nobody wants to spend to bring it up to date. ‘I got the impression as he left that day, it was a straight choice between living and staying in London or moving to Italy and playing for Inter. We were certainly offering more money,’ says Terraneo. ‘When he made his final decision, he called up directly and thanked me for the time and interest we had showed. I appreciated that.’

• • •

Sol flew back to London the following morning. Arsenal had called Sky asking if everything was fine. A follow-up call, nothing more. No talk of money. Too early for that. ‘Is there anything more we can do?’ Dein wanted to know. Sol said he would go and see Dein that night, this time on his own. He asked Sky to call him. ‘Tell him, I’ll be over just past midnight.’

‘David Dein was the best in the football business: the way he spoke, his understanding of players and how they would work within the club,’ Sky says.

Barcelona were still in the hunt. They had been since the beginning of January. They had flown in to London to meet with Sky. They wanted a face-to-face meeting. ‘Barcelona made a huge offer. We didn’t jump.’ Barcelona didn’t stop there. They are a club you don’t just walk away from; they come back until they get what they want.

Sky’s phone rang. He was still at home. It was an agent who was trying to help make the deal. ‘Sky,’ he said, ‘I am here with the owners of Barcelona. Here in the same room.’

‘Hola Sky…’ The executive’s words blurred as if a blanket had been pulled over their heads. ‘We want to make the deal for Sol not today, but this morning.’ There was still time for that. The call had been made very early. ‘We are prepared to increase our offer by fifty per cent. Fifty per cent, Sky! We will even set up an office for you in Barcelona to look after your client; everything included, phones, faxes, paper…Your own secretary. But today Sky. It has to be done today.’ They hung up. Sky looked at his watch. This was a life-changing deal. These were numbers he hadn’t heard before. This can secure us financially. He called Sol immediately – forget the time! – and told him what was on the table. ‘You must do what you think is right,’ Sky said, biting his tongue. He meant it. He wasn’t going to try to persuade him to play for Barcelona. Their long friendship allowed Sky to forget his own pocket. He thought of his client first. ‘I did. It is sometimes difficult to think of the wealth that deal would have brought me. And I’m not sure even if I had advised him to sign that he would have listened. I will never know. Some agents think of themselves before their clients, but I never did.’

Sol was tempted by the offer but not for long. Perhaps an hour. Call it what you like but fundamentally it was instinctive. Barcelona had consistently been mentioned. The team had shadowed his name. He remembers watching on Sky TV Barcelona beat Valencia 3-2 on the last day of the 2000-01 La Liga season. ‘Rivaldo scored this extraordinary hat-trick, his third goal the most incredible overhead kick I have seen, and Gerry Armstrong, one of the commentators that night said: “Sol Campbell is in the ground and about to sign for Barcelona. He must have been impressed by what he saw.” I just laughed at the invention of it all.’ Despite that performance, they were not yet the Barcelona of Pep Guardiola; they were a side treading water. Maybe, above all, Sol didn’t want to move abroad? New Language. Unknown streets. He denies this. ‘Moving to Europe held no threat,’ he says and takes a pause, before making what sounds like a formal statement: ‘My decision was essentially about the Arsenal team, the squad of players. What trophies they would win. Whatever happens in your career, no-one can take trophies away from your record.’

He turned Barcelona down. What about Inter Milan? There were rumours that the Brazilian Ronaldo was going to leave (he departed a year later for Real Madrid); the club had finished fifth in Serie A and had been knocked out of the qualifying rounds of the Champions League. What was expected to be a short siesta for the Italian giants had turned into a lengthy doze. He didn’t see them waking up for a while. He turned the Italians down.

But even then there wasn’t that rush of blood to quickly sign for a new club. He knew his standing. He carried no fear; his talent was his stock. He knew someone somewhere would want him. But all the while he couldn’t get the Arsenal team, their squad of players, out of his mind; he kept returning to their football skill, what it had been like playing against them. They were good and would only get better. He knew it deep inside.

Sol met David Dein alone. Dein knew that for Sol to want to meet again meant the transfer was not far off from becoming a reality. He didn’t know who was competing for his signature. He didn’t ask and it wasn’t brought up in their conversation. This time the two men walked around Dein’s garden into the early hours of the morning. ‘We hardly sat still. We generally got up and walked around for hours talking about everything, from football to his upbringing,’ says Dein. The day had begun windy but, by the early hours of the morning, the wind had abated, although there was still a slight rustle in the surrounding foliage. The moon cast a spotlight that seemed to follow the two figures as they moved from one end of the garden to the other. It was their only light other than the faint glow from the kitchen. If you had been standing only metres behind, the conversation would have been indistinct. Like musical instruments heard from outside the concert hall, the two seemed to have a resonance more evolved than just language. Sol felt he was being understood probably for the first time in his life.

• • •

The following day he returns to Newham. When in doubt, he always went back to his roots. He walks his neighbourhood. He visits West Ham Park with his mum. It feels good and safe to be by her side. He talks and his mother listens. Measuring things up; this is good, this is bad. He looks at the strip of grass he used to play on; the tennis courts he went straight to after school in search of those lost tennis balls. He chuckles to himself. On the wall he used to practise against for hour upon hour, he notices a loose brick and thinks for a moment someone may have had a secret hidden inside. He notices a fly land on his hand. It annoys him. He wants to slap at it, yet doesn’t want it to die. In the same way at times he wanted to sleep, yet didn’t want to be unawake; to think, yet not want his brain to work. He looks at a group of kids sitting on the grass in a circle sharing a laugh and intermittently at the fly, which isn’t moving, stationary as if it has nowhere to go…then suddenly, it flies off into the blue sky. It’s time to step off the ride. To somehow let go of all that pressure that has built up in the previous months.

They walk out of the park towards his childhood home. As he carefully leads his mum into East Road, he thinks of his last days at Tottenham. He is no longer happy. He had some good times, some of the best of times, but things have changed, or perhaps have never changed. That’s it. They have remained the same. Their ambition may never match his. His face is a discord of disappointment, fatigue, and resignation with perhaps a tinge of sorrow. What will the fans think? But as he asks the question, his sense of sadness fades. It’s been done before, hasn’t it? Pat Jennings made the move. He didn’t know of much fuss with that. In fact, Jennings was still a hero. He had seen him at White Hart Lane. He was admired. Still loved. It won’t be different for me. He is sure some of the fans will not be happy, but eventually they will understand. Won’t they? Yes! Hey stop giving yourself such a hard time. It has been done before. You have an extraordinary opportunity. Lighten up! The world is yours. This is the best, most exciting time of your professional life. You will be joining one of the best clubs in the world with some of the best players.

His mind is made up. He starts to dial a number on his mobile. He gets straight through. ‘Sky, make the deal. I’ve decided. It’s Arsenal.’

• • •

The final meeting with Dein and Wenger was again held at a late hour. The atmosphere was relaxed and, of course, welcoming. These were his new bosses. They had got their man. But Sol still needed another face-to-face to confirm everything. He could still pull out, couldn’t he? ‘We must be willing to pay a price for freedom.’ What he didn’t know on that day, at that time, was how big a price he was going to have to pay.

They sat once again in the living room on a sunken sofa. Dein spoke of the players they had signed and the ones they were still pursuing. Van Bronckhorst and Inamoto would sign before the start of the new season. But they wanted to sign more Englishmen. A month before they had signed Francis Jeffers from Everton for £8 million. ‘Francis Jeffers…’ and Sol was about to say, ‘I’m not sure about him,’ but he kept it to himself. There was no point; the signing had already been made. ‘Perhaps they saw it in my face but I felt it wasn’t the time to start to advise on new signings.’ He can tell the quality of a striker, though. It’s his trade to assess the strikers he is going to face. ‘Jeffers was a good player but he lacked something. I didn’t find him that dangerous. I intrinsically knew he wasn’t going to maintain his ability at the top. Rooney for instance, is strong, works hard, and has the imagination to change things. You’re never too sure what he’s going to do next. I have to be on my top game to deal with him. You could tell he was going the whole way. Shearer was the same. He had a fantastic work ethic, strength and movement, shot. He had this habit of nudging the defender as the ball was coming towards him; a slight push, a twist to give him space. And with that space, he was lethal.’

The manager spoke of how he saw Sol’s role in the side. Wenger was methodical and thoughtful. Each time they spoke, Sol was more impressed by his knowledge, his philosophy. He found reassurance in his tactical knowhow and felt the Frenchman’s authority in his life would have a positive effect on his game.

By now it is three o’clock in the morning. Dein’s son Gavin walks in after a Saturday night out. Dein asks Sol if he is hungry. He is. He always is. Gavin prepares French toast. How appropriate. Every member of Dein’s family has made him feel welcome. As the offering is placed in front of him, he feels a tremendous warmth. Like the blossoming flower on spring’s arrival, or the encouraging word, the helping hand, given at the perfect moment; it is worth more than anything that has gone before. A simple act, which resonates profoundly. This feels like home already.

• • •

Only two people knew about Sol’s pending move: his mother and his agent. He spent three days before the announcement away with close friends on a stag party in Portugal, but nothing was said. Nothing was given away by words or nervous gestures.

He behaved like a spy without secrets. There was no clue anything out of the ordinary was about to happen. He was in a good mood and spoke excitedly about the future. Even during late night gossip with a little drink inside, nothing was divulged. ‘It’s amazing that he didn’t tell a friend, even the day before. Saying something like “Be prepared, tomorrow there will be a bomb!”’ remarks Wenger.

Sol simply says, ‘That’s what makes me different.’ Beneath a surface of normality there often lurks a far more intriguing world. Imagine the thrill of the double secret: your secret from your world at the forthcoming signing; their secret from their world that you are about to sign. All being done, what’s more, under an assumed secrecy.

Wilhelmina was told hours before. He hadn’t told her that day in West Ham Park. He waited. It was a simple phone call just before Sky arrived. Her reaction was calm, not fully understanding the magnitude of the decision, or of what was she was being told: ‘If that’s best, Sulzeer. I have faith in you that whatever decision you make will be the right one.’

‘I need to be appreciated,’ he told his friend Edwin, a couple of days after the announcement. Edwin listened and after the one conversation, he understood why Sol had made the decision. He was supportive and would be in the future. ‘It was difficult, and yes, I was taunted about being his friend and a Spurs fan. And when I tried to rationalise the decision, many didn’t want to listen, but he was proved right. Sol has always been someone who surprises people and I learned early on never to underestimate or second-guess him.’

• • •

Sol is in a car destined for the Arsenal training ground at London Colney. As he heads round the M25, his mind is facing a host of last-minute questions. All questions that have been asked before, but as the announcement of his transfer is nearing, the doubts magnify and all he is trying to do is put a simple tick of the affirmative in the appropriate box.

He looks down at his feet: polished black shoes, tightly laced. He sees his reflection in the window. His reflection gazes back at him. Have I done the right thing? He lifts his head and looks out to his left. He notices a van in the lane alongside. He looks at its logo. It has the words SOL CROWN printed on its side. He smiles inside, and has a rare feeling in his bones that it is all going to go well. ‘I like symbols. They have guided me all my life. I recognise them. By seeing those words at that time, it gave me the reassurance I was on the right path.’ It was a collision of thoughts with a chance external event. His shoulders begin to feel more relaxed. They are now minutes from their destination. He gently clenches his fist. Come on! Let’s do this!

They pull in at the training ground. Sean O’Connor, the manager of the training facility, is waiting at the gate. He has been told that a new signing is arriving with his agent. ‘The boss [Arsene] didn’t tell me who it was going to be,’ he looks back now. ‘And then I saw this Range Rover draw up and recognised Sky Andrew. I ordered the gate to open and let the car pass through. Then I saw who was sitting beside him. It was extraordinary. It was the Tottenham captain. I think I just said, “Hello Sol” as if we had known each other for years. It was the biggest surprise. Yes, the biggest shock! I don’t think it could ever be repeated.’ Sean gets into the back of the car and directs it to the side near to the manager’s office. The agent and player are led through without anyone seeing them. The secret has remained secret; some would say impossible in the modern world.

Wenger is waiting for his prize capture. There is little better than getting hold of a player you admire. The manager knows he has a powerful man with great pace, one of the best defenders in the world. ‘I knew we had someone very special who had a fantastic ability to win the challenge.’

The atmosphere is light. Conversation spasmodic. An early morning feel. Sol begins to relax. He has coffee and biscuits. He takes in where he is sitting. Looking out of the open window, he senses the fresh air over the manicured football pitches.

‘Come, ’tis not too late to see a newer world.’

‘This was the real thing. Years ahead of Tottenham. Better than Inter Milan. It’s a beautiful place. It’s how football should be at the top level,’ Sol says enthusiastically. ‘I was still a little nervous but after the drive I felt better, excited to get on with it. I’m never too comfortable facing the press. I just like to get on and play top football.’

The announcement is planned for midday. Time passes. Time waits for no-one but as he’s on his third coffee he believes that cliché might not be true. It is like someone has tampered with his watch. Time itself has started to act strangely. And when the announcement is made, it will go berserk. David Dein joins them and is going to make the introduction to the press. He was looking forward to this. He knew what he was going to do.

Sean returns to the office and says, ‘They are ready.’ He leads Sol, Sky, Dein and Wenger through to the press room. Dein is adjusting his tie, Wenger straightening his jacket while Sol, who has remained calm, rubs his thumb and little finger in slow motion. How Sean had wanted to tell the waiting journalists what they were about to witness. He knew the tranquil mood with stifled yawns was about to be blown apart by instant pandemonium. There is a smallish turnout. The journalists presume they are there to see the introduction of the Ipswich Town goalkeeper Richard Wright. Nothing to set the pulse racing there.

They pass no-one as they walk into the press room. Sky nods at his client. He will watch the action from the wings. Out to the front walk Wenger and Dein; Sol will come out when called. The drama continues. There is a touch of showbiz about the whole scene. Touch of showbiz? This IS showbiz. Dein speaks first, making the introduction. ‘Thank you, gentleman.’ Pause. ‘I would like to introduce our latest signing.’ Wenger and Dein look left…

Out walks Sol Campbell. From the slow beating of the drums to cymbals crashing all around. The gathered jump out of their skins. They say the reaction in the room could be heard in St Albans. More likely, throughout the country. ‘Before a question was asked, I saw every journalist in the room pick up his mobile to call his news desk. There was disbelief. I have never seen anything like it before…or since,’ Sean O’Connor says.

Sol Campbell, the Spurs skipper, has joined Arsenal. It is a huge shock. It takes a moment for the journalists to gather themselves. ‘I could feel their surprise, the shuffling in their seats,’ Sol says. Questions are finally asked. Sol answers diplomatically and remains, not for the first time in his life, the calmest man in the room. ‘I was very keen to stay in the Premiership; it was important to me. Sven-Goran Eriksson, the England coach, is here and the majority of games he sees are here in England,’ he says, scanning the few members of the press. If I were abroad I might have been forgotten, he thinks to himself while answering the question. But why Arsenal? ‘There were a number of factors I had to go through, but in the end it was overwhelming for Arsenal. I’ve made my decision and I’m happy. I just hope everyone respects that decision.’ The word ‘hope’ is not emphasised, the question isn’t properly answered; just the thoughts of someone eager to step into a new chapter of his life.

Wenger sums up his joy in capturing one of the world’s finest defenders: ‘For me, he is the best. I felt we could not compete on a financial basis with the top clubs but we could give him a football challenge.’

Sky is watching everything out of sight. ‘I just remember no-one really knowing what to do when Sol walked out. There was mayhem for two minutes. Phone calls, cameramen trying to work out where to point the camera. It was an amazing scene.’

‘But why Arsenal?’ Sol is asked again.

This time he is more clear. ‘They are a fantastic club and have a great manager and the setup is geared to win. I want to be here and I’m here now.’ Dein and Wenger instinctively smile.

‘How have you managed the pressure of the last months when it seems many around you were being affected by it?’

He replies without pause. ‘I have kept my head when other people around me were losing theirs.’

When the news conference ends, the gathered break out into an almost apologetic applause; no-one is quite sure how to react.

• • •

The manager and his new signing walked out into the sunlight and posed for photographs. Sol was in dark suit and white shirt; Wenger in a grey-blue suit with the widest of shoulders and polka dot tie, his hair parted to the right, matted, thick. They shook hands. Posing like two good friends, Sol and Wenger gave their best Colgate smiles.

As he walked with Sky back to the car, Sol felt relief and had a glow of pride. His heart was set on a team that would win things. He knew he’d found it.

‘You all right?’ Sky asked his client.

‘Yes,’ Sol replied. Then he took a long pause and Sky held his breath, unsure what the next part of his response was going to be. He felt responsible. He had stood by his friend, his client, but, even with the million words they had shared over this decision, he was still unsure of Sol’s innermost feelings. Finally Sol, with a knowing look in his eyes, said to Sky, ‘This is the right decision.’

As the car drove away from the training ground, he felt like he was floating on an ocean of calm. He glimpsed back over his shoulder. Today, professionally, I’ve been reborn.

• • •

‘When I first played against Sol, I thought, who the hell is this? He’s strong, fast and has instinct. Thank God he’s now on my side,’ says Thierry Henry.

Sol felt immediately at home. He was happy. He had a minor injury so it was arranged that he would take the next four days off in Sardinia to get into shape before all the Arsenal players reported back for pre-season. So, while one half of North London buzzed and the other half was fuming, Sol was out of the country.

On his return, the training was intense but relaxed. He enjoyed it. ‘It [Arsenal] was all about positioning, timing, getting fit and about getting the best out of everyone. Basically, don’t waste a second on the pitch. We played eight-a-sides – tighter, less time on the ball, think quick, don’t be lazy, move it quicker. The idea was to solve problems before they got to you, and then when you do have space in a competitive game the time on the ball seems longer, a gift.

‘At training we played more across the pitch, more side-to-side. If we did play up and down, which was rare, it was more of a passing game. If you were playing forward you could have a third touch. The emphasis was on controlled passing moving forward.’

It was a good time in his life. He was testing his skills all the time. ‘It was my dream to play on the same side with some of the best players in the world. Training with them every day naturally raised my game. They tested me every day and because of it I got better. There was hardly a session when something extraordinary didn’t happen, where I’d watch in awe at a certain skill. I had to up my level. They would stretch you. There was no point going into training and feeling you could take it easy. There was no hiding place. That decision was taken from you. You would have to give a hundred per cent. Maybe you wouldn’t go into a full tackle but you always had to be switched on to deal with the likes of Dennis Bergkamp, who was very strong and so gifted. People don’t think that Dennis had such strength but believe me he was one of the strongest I played with or against. Kanu was also strong and inventive. He could do something out of the ordinary. It was a privilege to play with such players.’

Sol’s first game for his new club came in a pre-season friendly in Austria, when he took to the pitch for the last twenty minutes against Roma. ‘It was a special moment for me,’ he recalls. He’d felt unfulfilled at Tottenham, and it was only now, in this new setup, that he realised how unhappy he had been. ‘I knew I was talented and I was always thinking about the game and wanting to improve,’ says Sol. ‘I wanted to be in a club whose ethos was about training and bettering oneself. They had that and it was the perfect environment for me.’ Wenger had promised that on their very first meeting, and Sol felt vindicated. ‘He showed me things I knew I had inside me but I didn’t have the platform on which to show it.’ He was at last beginning to fit into his skin.

• • •

Sol made his Arsenal Premier League debut on 18 August 2001 away against Middlesborough. The Arsenal side that day was: Seaman, Cole, Adams, Campbell, Vieira, Pires, Ljungberg, Lauren, Parlour, Wiltord, and Henry. It was an easy 4-0 win for the Gunners, despite Ray Parlour’s sending off in the second half. Parlour said afterwards, ‘A few lads knew Sol from England. That helped him to settle without any problems. There was a lot made of him coming from Tottenham but that didn’t phase him one bit. He slotted straight in and was confident about what he wanted to do at Arsenal. I remember him doing very well in that first game. Shame I couldn’t have stayed with Sol on the pitch until the end. But it was great to see him become one of Arsenal’s all-time greats.’

The players were welcoming. ‘He was quiet at first but it wasn’t long before he opened up,’ says Patrick Vieira. ‘We could see very quickly he was focused, calm and concentrated. He gave off a sense of knowing what he wanted.’

Sol was glad the Arsenal fans got behind him. ‘I felt they had the attitude of let’s see what he can do, what he’s made of. And when I put on the shorts for the first time, it felt good. It felt really good. I understand that must be hard for Spurs supporters to hear, but I was in a good place and felt comfortable with everything that went with it. The club seemed to do things properly; they were fair. They never tried to pull the wool over my eyes. If they wanted to make it work, they would find a way of making it work. They had really good people who cared about football.’

It seemed he had finally realised he was simply a happier footballer, who had left behind the problems of playing for Tottenham. He was sounding optimistic, something his new team-mates soon came to appreciate.

‘I thought he was crazy when he first arrived,’ says Thierry Henry. ‘Here’s the Tottenham club captain, joining Arsenal! But if there was person who could make it work, it was Sol. We now had in our team one of the best centre-backs in the world!’

The team was gelling and his connection with the manager was growing by the day. He speaks of Wenger with the utmost respect. ‘Wenger had a German mentality, more like a bookworm. Sometimes you need that intelligence, but you need the balance of a warm side. He has his own way of talking and approaching people, slightly reserved. I knew I could learn from him.’

• • •

Sol liked Highbury; he liked its sense of history. The team bus drawing up to the main doors of the East Stand; the players stepping out onto the pavement. The fans waiting, all on display in red and white scarves staring, in awe of their idols, autograph books in hand. ‘Sign here! Sol, sign here!’ Sol gives an unconfident nod at the recognition; his shyness has never left him, even though he now has to deal with it daily. ‘I’ve never felt that comfortable being famous; I’d prefer to be invisible, unnoticed. I always have.’

Then, into the marble entrance on the way to the dressing rooms, past the bronze statue of Herbert Chapman, a moderniser of the game who brought in a new form of training as well as championing floodlighting and numbered shirts. He was Arsenal’s manager from 1925 to 1934 who, in his time, brought the previously trophy-less club an FA Cup and two First Division titles. He died at the age of 55 from pneumonia but left, as a legacy, a club that would be the dominant force in English football in the 1930s, winning five league titles in the decade. ‘I loved the tradition,’ Sol says.

The Highbury pitch was one of the smallest in the league. He remembers the first time he walked into the stadium as an Arsenal player. The smell of cut grass, the sprinklers on like at the San Siro a few weeks before. He walked from the North Bank to the Clock End and back again, taking in his new home. He liked to do that, to check out the space. I want to play here. It seemed so different to when he came here with Tottenham; much more stately now. Two workmen were putting up advertising hoardings. Someone once said, ‘You can understand the ideals of a club by its advertisements.’ Maybe that quote comes from another decade. Nowadays, it’s all about the big brands, not the local butcher or neighbourhood Greek restaurant.

Sol believes the tightness of the pitch didn’t really suit Arsenal’s style. ‘I think if we had been playing at the Emirates with that team, we would have won even more matches. At Highbury, the opposition could almost cover their mistakes. We loved playing away because we had more room, a bigger space. There was a freedom, with another four or five yards on either side. If you were really good at retaining the ball and good at the counter-attack, you could kill off teams. Our players were suited to that.’

The atmosphere and tradition at Highbury would motivate any Arsenal player. The bars, even when cleaned, smelt like the morning after the night before. Cigarette ash littered the floor like confetti; there was a lingering odour of spilt beer. Thousands upon thousands of people would shout from every corner of the ground, the noise converging on the pitch. Despite his reservations about Highbury suiting the Arsenal way, Sol knew he could feed off the crowd in that cauldron. ‘If the atmosphere was going, you could feed off the energy. In big games, you could feel the intense pressure from the crowd, which I loved, as it was all about the game. The tightness of Highbury, where I could literally see the faces and almost catch the half-conversations, made it feel for me like a theatre. I was there to perform.’

By mid-November, Arsenal had lost twice in the Premier League, both games at home. Their Champions League campaign had been stuttering. ‘I don’t remember much of it,’ Sol stiffens, as if to wipe the stain from the memory. But his new club and his rediscovered self-belief were about to face their biggest test yet, just four months after his headline-making transfer.

• • •

Tottenham 1 Arsenal 1, white hart lane, Saturday 17 November 2001

Tottenham: Sullivan, Perry, King, Richards, Taricco, Freund (Davies 85), Anderton, Poyet, Ziege, Ferdinand (Rebrov 70), Sheringham. Subs not used: Thatcher, Beasant, Bunjevcevic. Goals: Poyet 90.

Arsenal: Wright, Lauren, Campbell, Keown , Cole, Parlour, Vieira, Grimandi, Pires, Bergkamp (Kanu 70), Wiltord. Subs not used: Tavlaridis, Ljungberg, Van Bronckhorst, Taylor. Goals: Pires 81.

Att: 36,049. Ref: Jeff Winter.

In typical frantic and fevered North London derby, the home side dominate but can’t finish off their chances. On his first game back at White Hart Lane since his transfer to Arsenal, Sol Campbell is prominent as he and his fellow defenders face an onslaught in the first half. Late in the second period, an Arsenal counter-attack sees Pires’ first-time curler from 25 yards beat goalkeeper Sullivan, only for man of the match Gus Poyet’s final-minute volley to slip through Wright’s hands and gain a deserved point for Tottenham.

Arsene Wenger made up his mind early in the week that Sol would play on the Saturday. ‘When you are manager you think, do I play this player or not, and you come to a conclusion. If you don’t do it now, next time it will be the same. Then you give credit to the idea that he did something wrong, and then, as well, you punish your own team for not playing one of the strong players. I thought it was an important hurdle for him to overcome, and I thought the sooner the better.’

Sol had spent the night before the game in the team hotel. The atmosphere was convivial, with Dennis Bergkamp and Patrick Vieira making jokes at Sol’s expense about his return to White Hart Lane. ‘It helped,’ Sol recalls. That may have lightened the mood, but no-one knew exactly what was waiting for him, not even the swarms of tabloid press hacks looking at every angle for a story.

He had spent the week meticulously planning how he was going to deal with the game. ‘I felt I was going to war. I knew I had to put my armour on, not only because of the team in front of me but the thousands watching and shouting. I knew I had to protect myself.’ He took solace in the experiences from his early life. All the time he had spent alone was now going to help. He was never bored or at a loss being by himself; it had given him the discipline to remove himself mentally from the chaotic noise shadowing his everyday life.

The Saturday was overcast. Sol woke easily. He shaved, washed, dressed almost mechanically. For breakfast he had cereal and a cup of black coffee with one sugar. At first he sat alone, but was soon joined by team-mates Henry, Bergkamp and Vieira. They read the papers and talked about nothing much, nothing that Sol can remember now. He’d had a good night’s sleep and managed not to think too much about the day ahead. ‘I knew what was coming; it was my emotions that had to be sorted. If they get out of control, your game goes and then you have nothing.’

Arsene Wenger didn’t say anything to him that morning. He didn’t feel he needed to make a fuss. But the vitriol that was waiting on Tottenham High Road and in the stadium took even the manager by surprise. ‘for some players, supporters feel they are a part of them,’ says Wenger. ‘It is more difficult when a player comes from out of your ranks; you give him a chance and then he goes.’

When Arsenal’s coach pulled up within a block from the ground, the crowd started to build. Six, seven, ten deep. A mob was baying at the Arsenal bus, a Dickensian mass waiting at the gallows. The dark coach windows shielded the players’ faces from the staring, cursing fans of their North London neighbours. ‘When I saw them carrying signs with Judas written on them, I thought, oh hell, this will be a real test for Sol, but I tried to treat it as normal,’ says Wenger.

The Arsenal players remained calm. Many had played at Tottenham before, but this was different. ‘I remember arriving at the game, bricks and bottles being thrown at me, but the first thing was the roar and when we reached the clock it was like a sea of people. They wanted blood,’ recalls Sol.

As the coach moved towards the front of the stadium, the police pushed back the crowd, packed together so close they could sniff the dirt on each other’s necks; now ten, twenty deep. Faces were grotesque with fury. ‘There were banners directed at me. I heard the shouting, the insults. It took a lot of energy, it took a lot of guts and heart to get through those moments and what was about to happen.’ He continued: ‘I couldn’t fuck up, I had no choice. I had to hit the bullseye,’ and then he recited the words his father used to say to him. ‘You have one chance. Grab it!’

He was prepared, mentally strong. He was ready to take on the world.

• • •

Sol had been sitting towards the back of the coach. His face was plain with no expression. He was alone in his thoughts. As the coach pulled up outside the ground, he was the last off. No-one spoke to him. His team-mates knew instinctively that he had to deal with this in his own way. The Turkish doorman welcomed him back with a warm smile. ‘Welcome back, Sol.’ ‘It was Muzzy Izzet’s cousin,’ recalls Sol, from his earlier days at White Hart Lane.

The team walked down the corridor to their dressing room. Sol was at the back, the groom at a shotgun wedding, looking at, half-smiling at, dozens of faces he recognised so well and yet none of which were now familiar. When he reached the dressing rooms, he stopped for an instant. It was always going to happen, wasn’t it? Sol went to open the Spurs door. A steward pointed to the visitor’s dressing room. ‘I think you are meant to be going into that one, sir.’

Sol realised he was sitting in the away dressing room for the very first time. He laid out his kit meticulously; not his team shirt, though. He would put that on just moments before leaving for kick-off. For now, he put on a blue sweatshirt and looked to the exit. He was going out for a twenty-minute warm-up.

‘I had planned how I was going to do this. It took all my experiences from my life before, how I had been brought up, what had happened to me. Going onto my old pitch I felt… Nervous. Nerves had already been there, but I’d had to control them. There’s a fine line between nerves and being too relaxed. You needed nerves but I didn’t allow them to overtake me completely. You almost feel heavy, with jelly-like legs. The whole crowd was probably looking at me. I felt that. This was what I agreed with myself that I was going to do: I was going to cover the pitch and run a full rectangle. Get every single bit out there, don’t warm-up away from it, go to it, take it all in and absorb every single ounce of it. I wanted to feel it, for it to hit me big time. I remember seeing black faces, white faces, Asian faces, and people almost frothing at the mouth, grown men with their little kids. I wanted to feel every single bit. I didn’t want to wait until kick-off when I was on the pitch and then get the full barrage. I wanted to absorb it, get above it, and adjust to it. That was a conscious decision by me.’

‘I remember the day like it was yesterday. I remember his eyes. They were so motivated,’ says Patrick Vieira. ‘We wanted to win the game for Sol.’

The team had a final debrief from Wenger. ‘I spoke about how important it was to win this game and to get the focus just on that, and basically to be professional and focus on what was important.’ Wenger did not show a flicker of emotion to what was happening out there. ‘It was a football game that we wanted to win and I wanted Sol to be a part of that. Sometimes, when you say to a guy don’t make a special occasion of it, you make it special,’ says Wenger.

The two teams walked on to the pitch together. Sol looked quickly from left to right, striding boldly forward to take the afternoon into his own hands. Within the first minutes, he made his presence felt. He swooped, swooshed and smacked the ball away from Spurs’ Les Ferdinand. It was an extraordinary tackle. ‘I had some apprehension but after five minutes, when he played his first ball, I thought okay, he will be alright,’ says Wenger. ‘I knew that, on the day, it created such adrenalin in his body and I trusted in him, because somehow this guy is extremely proud and he will not fall on a day when everyone looks at him.’

One action summed up Sol Campbell, his game, his character. At half-time, a team-mate of Les Ferdinand said, ‘Hey Les, he was trying to get you.’

Ferdinand shook his head. ‘No, he wasn’t. That was just Sol. Making sure that everyone knew he meant business.’

As the second half got underway, Sol felt he could take on anything and everything. Nothing was going to stand in his way. Then a moment that would haunt him forever. ‘I went up for a corner late in the second half,’ he recalls. ‘I was looking at the faces in the Spurs end. Then I caught sight of him. A knife to my heart. Behind the goal, I knew that face. My older brother. Tony. A Spurs fan, in among the slurry of bile violating my name.’ Sol pauses, almost choking, his voice neutered. Who are you? What are you doing? ‘I couldn’t believe he was there.’ The two have rarely spoken since. Sol could not understand why his brother continued to go to the games when he was surrounded by so much HATE. ‘I heard he had been going all season. I was…’ He struggles now to find the words. ‘I mean, we are brothers. We are blood.’

The game ended 1-1. As the final whistle was blown, Sol walked away from the Park Lane End towards the tunnel. The Spurs players shook his hand, Steffen Freund gave him a hug and Glenn Hoddle appeared in his line of vision. The Spurs manager acknowledged the ex-captain; he recognised what Campbell had been through, and admired his performance and the dignity that went with it.

Wenger said, ‘At the end of the day, you cannot assist him with every ball he plays. He has to do his own job, inside of himself. On that day I saw him change; he became different.’

He didn’t give any post-match interviews. His performance had spoken a million words. As the Arsenal team prepared to leave the ground, Sol left the dressing room and took a step outside into the empty stadium. All was peace again. He looked at the empty rows. There was an urge to cry out to anyone, to anything. He opened his mouth but there was no sound.

‘Come on Sol. It’s time to get going,’ one of the Arsenal staff called.

Sol looked at White Hart Lane once more and turned away to leave the ground. Thank God that’s over.

• • •

Arsenal 2 Chelsea 0, FA Cup Final, Millennium Stadium Cardiff, 4 May 2002

Arsenal: Seaman, Lauren, Campbell, Adams, Cole, Wiltord (Keown 90), Parlour, Vieira, Ljungberg, Bergkamp (Edu 72), Henry (Kanu 81).Subs Not Used: Dixon, Wright. Goals: Parlour (70), Ljungberg (80).

Chelsea: Cudicini, Melchiot (Zenden 76), Gallas, Desailly, Babayaro (Terry 45), Gronkjaer, Lampard, Petit, Le Saux, Gudjohnsen, Hasselbaink (Zola 68). Subs Not Used: De Goey, Jokanovic.

Att: 73,963. Ref: Mike Riley.

After a dire first half in which the two London heavyweights trade blows to little effect, two stunning goals by Ray Parlour and Freddie Ljungberg seal the game for the Gunners. Parlour’s curling right foot effort from 25 yards into the top corner, and Ljungberg’s surging run and finish from the halfway line ten minutes later, mean Arsenal complete part one of their bid to be 2002 League and Cup Double champions.

The fourth of May to the eighth of May 2002: four days that would prove to be the most satisfying and successful of Sol Campbell’s football career.

Sol has fond memories of his team’s FA Cup final victory over London rivals Chelsea. ‘I played centre-back alongside Tony Adams that afternoon which was really good because with England I always played with him in a three at the back. Mind you, it was a bit harsh on Martin Keown who had played in most of the FA Cup games that season. But Tony was one of the best defenders England has ever produced. I respected him. He was not the most naturally gifted player but he overcame his weaknesses. His passing was not the best but he was dogged and his positional sense was exceptional. His nickname of Captain Courageous was spot-on. He had a great presence and desperately wanted to win. He wasn’t the fastest of players but he saw things before anyone else, and made up for a lack of speed by thinking two paces ahead of the opposition. He was a good talker with everyone. He was Mr Arsenal and it was a privilege to win the League and Cup double in the same team and on the same pitch.’

The Millennium Stadium in Cardiff on Cup day was an exultant carnival. ‘I hadn’t heard noise like it,’ says Sol. ‘It was a magical day. It was tough opposition; Chelsea were a great side. We were rocking and rolling, the atmosphere was amazing. The stadium was designed acoustically because the Welsh like to sing. The volume the crowd reached was even more than at Wembley, as it had been designed to rebound and amplify. So whenever there was singing, you couldn’t hear anything else. It was just an incredible atmosphere. I really liked playing in Cardiff and, of course, to win. Winning the FA Cup is epic. It is very special in the hearts of the English people. To be a part of that history is incredible, it will live on forever.’ Sol’s voice cracked, as if he might at any moment burst into tears. Patrick Vieira and Tony Adams lifted the cup as the golden evening sun glistened over the stadium. It was a very happy day for all Gunners fans.

• • •

Manchester United 0 Arsenal 1, Old Trafford, 8 May 2002

Manchester Utd: Barthez, Phil Neville, Blanc, Brown, Silvestre, Scholes, Keane, Veron (Van Nistelrooy 58), Giggs, Solskjaer, Forlan (Fortune 68). Subs Not Used: Carroll, O’Shea, Wallwork.

Arsenal: Seaman, Lauren, Keown, Campbell, Cole, Ljungberg, Parlour, Vieira, Edu, Wiltord, Kanu (Dixon 89). Subs Not Used: Jeffers, Bergkamp, Wright, Stepanovs. Goals: Wiltord (55).

Att: 67,580. Ref: Paul Durkin.

Arsenal survived a ferociously fought first-half in which United battled sometimes illegally to gain a foothold in the match, before a mistake by Silvestre allowed Ljungberg a shot which Barthez saved magnificently, only for Wiltord to steer the ball home. The Gunners’ resilience proved enough to seal the league title and add another Double to their previous triumphs in 1971 and 1998.

On Wednesday 8 May, Arsenal went up to Manchester and Old Trafford needing a point from their last two games to clinch the league title: ‘It was a sensational time for me, one of the great nights of my career. Because of the pressure I was under, I could not fail. I felt I had been tracked from the day I signed. I was part of a fantastic team and I just loved it. To win the Premiership, and in Manchester, was sensational. You know you’re the best team in the land.’

Sylvain Wiltord was the hero of the hour. Sol says, ‘He was a great striker, a fox in the box; quiet for a lot of the game, and then suddenly popping up from nowhere to be in the right place at the right time to score. He did it that day. Those type of strikers are difficult to defend against.’ When the final whistle went, Sol strode forward and hugged his team-mates, his head held high as if this moment was always meant to be. Could life get any better than this? The Old Trafford crowd clapped graciously. ‘The Manchester United fans behaved with real class.’

The Premier League trophy was presented at Highbury on Saturday 11 May, the last day of the season. It was the final game for Arsenal stalwarts Tony Adams and Lee Dixon. Dixon says of Sol: ‘He was quiet in the dressing room. I didn’t get to know him and I don’t think anyone really did.’

Two goals by Thierry Henry help Arsenal secure a 4-3 victory over Everton and the title celebrations begin in earnest. As the Premier League trophy is presented to him, club captain Tony Adams holds it aloft in a way that he has done before. He passes it along the line. Sol gently places both hands on the silver trophy, picks it up and then abandons a cautious approach, shaking it with pure joy. ‘Adulation, fulfillment, recognition and redemption. I felt all those on that day. I also felt a little sad that I had to go through extreme pressure to get to this point. But ultimately, I was happy that my instinct to join Arsenal had been proved right,’ Sol says.

The Highbury crowd gathers in a crescendo of cheers and applause. Sol is witnessing one of the great scenes of his life. The team goes on its lap of honour. Martin Keown passes Sol the trophy. ‘Go on, Sol,’ he says, pointing to the press box, ‘Show them! Show them what you did!’ Sol smiles and lifts the trophy again.

The next day, a Sunday, Arsenal celebrated their double triumph in an open-top bus parade through the streets of north London. The victory celebrations reached a climax at Islington town hall, where the excited thousands heard Sol and his team-mates thank their supporters. ‘It was an unbelievable scene,’ says Sol. ‘I will never forget to my dying moments the joy of our fans that day. It’s what makes being a footballer so special.’

He felt exhausted. The pressure of his first season for Arsenal had been ever present. ‘I was so pleased. I’m a team player, not every footballer is, but I am and it gave me a pure joy that my team were champions. It was almost like I’d found another family.’ And he means it. His words are passionate and moving. ‘When I got home that night I broke down. I thought of everyone who helped me get through. People like Pat Rice and those behind the scenes who were an important part of my journey, and who had put their heart and soul on the line. I thanked them out loud.’

Arsenal lost just three matches in the Premier League in the 2001-02 season, all at home. Their league record was: Played 38, Won 26, Drew 9, Lost 3. ‘To be a part of that history is incredible,’ says Sol. ‘It will live on forever. I felt peace and redemption. I knew then for certain, I’d made the right choice.’ His voice was soft and yet his pride resonated with such energy that his words might have been heard all over the neighbourhood.

• • •

The following season, 2002-03, saw Sol maintain his form and Arsenal as title challengers again. After a ten-game unbeaten start in the Premier League, the Gunners struggled in Europe where they failed to progress beyond the Champions League group stage, but a fine run to the FA Cup final, during which they knocked out both Manchester United and Chelsea, saw them approach the crucial spring period in fine form and looking to repeat their Double exploits of the previous season.

For Sol though, a red card at Highbury in April against Manchester United would mean a premature end to his season. ‘It was a dreadful decision; the worst of my career. The baby-faced assassin went down like a sack of potatoes. He wasn’t given that title for no reason.’ Sol pauses and says, ‘I was devastated and pissed off.’

After referee Mark Halsey had discussed the incident with his linesman – who confirmed that he had seen the Arsenal defender ‘deliberately elbow Ole Gunnar Solskjaer in the face’ – he marched straight over to Sol and showed him the red card. Sol turned and walked as quickly as he could towards the tunnel, his stomach churning with indignation. By the time his head had disappeared from view, he had already started to calculate how long he was going to be suspended. When he was alone in the dressing room, which felt more like a mortuary, he’d already worked out he’d probably miss the FA Cup final. ‘I felt like fucking shit!’

Those were still the days when, if a player was sent off in the league, the suspension would include cup games. Arsenal immediately launched an appeal but it didn’t help. The last thing Manchester United were going to do was support Sol’s case, with rivals Arsenal challenging them for the title. The decision stood. He was told by the FA that he would be banned for four matches, including the FA Cup final.

The announcement of his suspension is heard again later that night on the television. He remembers clearly the newscaster saying ‘Sol Campbell will miss the FA Cup final,’ as if he was saying it a dozen times over. He called his former Spurs team-mate Gary Mabbutt, who was now a member of the FA disciplinary committee, to see if he could help, but his efforts were in vain. Arsene Wenger was furious at the perceived injustice of it all. ‘Every week there are examples of people who have done ten times more than he did and they are not punished. The team will support Sol and fight to win the League and FA Cup for him.’

For the first match of Sol’s suspension, Arsenal fell to a 3-2 home defeat to Leeds, which virtually spelt the end of their chase to retain their title. Despite wins in their final two games, they finished the season in second place, five points behind Manchester United.

In the Cup final, against underdogs Southampton, Sol sat uncomfortably in his suit just behind the Arsenal bench. He yearned to play and found the game difficult to watch. Arsenal retained the cup by beating Southampton 1-0, Robert Pires scoring late on in the first-half. ‘It was difficult not being involved. Of course, you want your team to win but it nags that you’re not out there helping. It fact, I was heartbroken.’ As the final whistle went, Sol hugged his manager and went onto the pitch to celebrate with his team-mates. For Arsene Wenger it had been a year to enjoy. ‘Overall, we had a good twelve months; we won the FA Cup twice on the trot and we were very close to a double Double.’

• • •

The Invincibles

‘He knew what he wanted and he went to get it. The only comparable player in my whole career was Marcel Desailly,’ says Patrick Vieira. He talks about Sol, as he does about his other Arsenal colleagues, without giving way to interruption, making it clear who is the boss.

Sol also talks about his Arsenal team-mates proudly as they approached a defining 2003-04 season. ‘Naturally there were clashes, clashes of egos, but we got on with it. Our attitude was to get onto the next game; to win trophies. We had good men, proud men, each team member had talent and no-one liked playing below their best.

‘Robert Pires had the special knack of anticipating where to be, he could smell a chance where others couldn’t. Thierry Henry was fantastic, a natural gambler, he could create space out of nothing. He could shift the ball against his opponent’s body weight, so as a defender you were always off balance. Dennis Bergkamp was one of the best players I’ve had the privilege to share a pitch with; his vision was incredible. He stretched me physically and mentally in training – he filled my memory bank (“Give me more, give me more!”) and I gained the tools to play against any type of player.’ Sol becomes a little tentative when picking out individual players. As if one voice is speaking about those we all want to hear about, while his other voice is babbling about the other members of this extraordinary team. ‘Don’t forget [Ashley] Cole, Touré, Lauren…Their strength of mind. After a while you get to know the team’s mentality, you understand them and their approach in sustaining it. I loved all that; I hated slackers, and those thinking they were good when they weren’t that special. There was a lot of that at Tottenham, a lot of people trying to talk their way onto the pitch instead of working for it. Pure froth; it used to irritate. I didn’t have any time for that. [At Arsenal] I was surrounded by talented players in every part of the field.’ He sighs at the memory of those halcyon days and says, ‘Arsene knew I would never let him down.’

Thierry Henry doesn’t disagree. ‘Sol always gave a hundred per cent. He gave his heart and soul. He understood the game and was at his best when his back was against the wall.’ And like Vieira, he compares Sol with Desailly: ‘On pure defensive ability, I compare him with Marcel Desailly, and also Lilian Thuram. All three were unbeatable in their prime.’

Arsene Wenger adds: ‘Sol had become one of our main players, and we now had an absolute physical presence and stability at the back. He is monstrous and, with his full power and also his ability to score a goal, you have an outstanding player. With Jens Lehmann, Ashley Cole, Lauren, Touré, they were all winners. With a defence like that, of course it made my job much easier. For a long time, people had it in their minds that the old Arsenal defence was irreplaceable – Dixon, Bould, Adams, Winterburn – but we changed four or five and we had a fantastic defence.’

Those who played for the Invincibles, as the Arsenal team of 2003-04 were later to be known, reached the height of their powers at the same time. ‘It didn’t matter what age you were; everyone was firing on all cylinders. Our time had come. Fortune chooses you. You do not choose it,’ Sol says. Wenger is more pragmatic in his assessment: ‘It was a balanced team, made up of mature players with top quality as well.’

• • •

On 21 September 2003, Arsenal played Manchester United at Old Trafford. Sol was absent that Sunday; he was due to bury his father that week and had been given leave. He needed space. He felt he’d been watched all day of the funeral. All eyes were on him, the famous son. People whispering loudly as he stood close to the coffin. He was the only one of the family to give a eulogy. ‘I was glad to be able to mourn at the funeral. Speaking to relatives helped me get close to my dad, in another way.’ He could hear all the mutterings, not directly of course, but close enough to wherever he stood. He dreaded walking out of the church after the funeral service. Dreaded to see the world the same as when he walked in. Relieved to see the world was just the same as before he went in. He needed to escape, yes, to be on his own again, this time to deal with his grief. He kissed his mother goodbye and left the rest of the mourners; yet another escape from his street, from his family. Not an escape outside to play football, like when he was young, but to get to his house, and watch on the television a recording of his club, Arsenal, play Manchester United; the former champions playing the reigning champions.

The outside of his home is quiet. As he approaches the front door, he hears the rustle of the trees and instantly remembers the times in West Ham Park when he used to play football and used the trees as his team-mates. He thinks of his father. Could he have joined me in the park? Could he have played with me? And then he quickly dismisses it as a wasted thought. He scolds himself, tells himself not to be so damn stupid. This is how it is. Stop even trying to create the perfect scene.

He goes into his living room and switches on the television. He makes himself a coffee and hears the commentary, but not clearly, more like some echo from the distant past. He watches the game. He watches it unmoved, as if it’s on constant replay. It is one of those games that can go by without anyone noticing anything, until, that is, the last minute. Martin Keown pulls down Ruud van Nistelrooy. A penalty is given. Van Nistelrooy is going to take it. If he scores, that’s the game. Sol watches Van Nistelrooy pick up the ball to put on the penalty spot and, quite naturally, his mind switches to how he plays him. How, the first time they had met on the pitch, Sol had dived in too quickly and the Dutchman had taken advantage and scored. Don’t sell yourself and tackle; let him beat you. It’s now logged in his memory. Van Nistelrooy is clinical, which makes him one of the best. With him you must lock his first movement, and then you’re on the way to being okay. Be close enough so he can’t get his shot in.

Van Nistelrooy hits the bar with his penalty. Keown leaps up, arms in the air, in front of Van Nistelrooy, as if he has just tasted his blood. It’s an iconic photograph. The game ends in a 0-0 draw. The consequence? Only at the end of the season will that be known.

Sol thought again about other key games that season. The match at Stamford Bridge in February when Arsenal came from behind to beat their title rivals Chelsea 2-1; facing Liverpool at Highbury in April soon after their exit from the Champions League and FA Cup, down 2-1 at half-time before storming back to win 4-2; then, just two weeks later, a crucial match at White Hart Lane, of all places, and the chance to crown a remarkable campaign. ‘The Liverpool game was one of the best performances that I remember being part of with Arsenal, coming on the back of a couple of cup defeats. At half-time, when we were losing, we got together and agreed we couldn’t let this happen to us. We had to change it in the second half. Arsene was calm. “Keep true to your game,” he said. “Find the line, play forward, keep the ball.” And Thierry’s performance in the second half was truly beautiful. We all played our part but Thierry sprinkled his magic dust over Highbury. It was football as art.’

As the season was drawing to its close, the team remained unbeaten; God’s luck, God’s choice. ‘We always thought our run could end at anytime. We never took any game for granted. We had to concentrate every moment. We all knew any team could have their day. It can just happen, without you even noticing it. You lose and you’ve forgotten how that happened. So there was no let-off. Whether you were playing the top teams, or those at the bottom.’ Sol reflected back for a moment to Old Trafford, and how the match had been a distraction, when all his senses were heightened by his father’s death. And how he watched the game on his own, feeling hopeless as his team faced defeat. What if the penalty from Van Nistelrooy had gone in? He connected with God’s will of how life can change quite suddenly, whether in sport or your everyday existence.

Sol looks up to the sky like the subject in a religious painting. ‘I hadn’t really thought about the record. We just didn’t think about losing that season. Then the papers started to write about the possibility of us going through the entire season unbeaten.

‘Once you start talking about records, your chances diminish,’ he says. ‘So, by the time the last few games came round, I thought we had less chance of achieving it because now everyone was talking about it. Once everyone starts talking about things, I always feel uneasy. As if it curses you.’

Then, to the match at White Hart Lane. ‘We won the title at Tottenham.’ He pauses. The roots of coincidence. ‘It was all too much really, going back to Tottenham to win the League. I knew we’d get a point there. I just knew.’ It was never easy for Sol going back to Spurs. Never. The story was burning as strongly as when he first left, and the abuse had not receded. ‘I was so pumped up for this game. I change when I’m on the field. Not in a bad way but I’m different. Just different,’ he says, gauging and processing the metamorphic change in personality. What does it mean? Who is this other character that lives inside?

He steps back in time. He is leaving the away dressing room on that 25 April day. He has initially zoned out. He doesn’t hear the crowd. That day they seem very separate, as if they are there but not really. He is looking at the players as if they are in a video game. Not a virtual game, but more like a matrix. His feelings are surreal. So different to his last visit.

His fitness is good. He feels strong, he’s fully prepared. He has everything mapped out. He knows what the team is going to do before they even do it. He has intuition and that day he is in the zone. When he was in the zone, he felt free; more liberated than in any second, any minute, of his life. Flying through the air, anticipating, tackling and passing. No-one can get through him or stop him. ‘I just loved it. I felt a natural high. It was like a drug for me.’

• • •

Tottenham 2 Arsenal 2, White Hart Lane, 25 April 2004

Tottenham: Keller, Kelly (Poyet 79), Gardner, King, Taricco (Bunjevcevic 90), Davies, Brown, Redknapp, Jackson (Defoe 45), Kanoute, Keane. Subs Not Used: Ricketts, Hirschfeld. Goals: Redknapp (62), Keane (pen 90).

Arsenal: Lehmann, Lauren, Campbell, Toure, Cole, Parlour (Edu 67), Vieira, Silva, Pires, Henry, Bergkamp (Reyes 80). Subs Not Used: Keown, Clichy, Stack. Goals: Vieira (3), Pires (35).

Att: 36,097. Ref: Mark Halsey.

Needing only a draw to clinch the title, Arsenal began swiftly with goals from Vieira, after a lightning counter-attack, and Pires, following good work by Bergkamp and Vieira again. Spurs turn things round in the second half. Redknapp’s low shot arrows past Lehmann and in a tense finish, Pires hits the crossbar before Lehmann fouls Keane who slots the resulting penalty home to rescue a valuable point for Spurs. But Arsenal are record-breaking league champions.

Arsenal were majestic at the start. Vieira’s goal was scored with an ease characteristic of their unbeaten season. Sol recalls the steps by which Arsene Wenger developed his team’s fluency: ‘He wanted the ball to be on the ground; he wanted the ball passed through the lines, always looking forward, always looking for the opening. Speed and accuracy, the right angles and timing were all-important. Even for me when defending. Of course, sometimes you have to put it in Row Z but even if you were under pressure, you still had to look for the next man to pass it on to, even with your head. Using that half a second, I’ve seen the player on the right side or the one in midfield. You have that instant to ignite something; to control the opposition, not the other way round.’

Robbie Keane had a chance, which Sol headed clear, again summarising the quality of his and the Arsenal team’s season from the back line to the front. ‘I always try to head away to the sidelines when clearing. First, it is safer and second, there may be one of our players ready to start an attack. We had quick thinking guys who consistently found themselves in the right position. It made life on the field easier. With the speed and intelligence of Henry, Bergkamp, Ljungberg, Pires and Patrick [Vieira], marauding, ready to break forward and also cover the back, we could do unbelievable things. It was a privilege to be on the same field.’

Bergkamp was the architect of the second goal, scored by Pires. ‘Dennis flourished under Arsene. It was the first time Dennis was managed by someone with real intelligence, and his play just got better and better. It was incredible to watch.’

Despite a second-half comeback from the home team, the final whistle sees Arsenal as champions and still unbeaten. The players run towards their fans in celebration. They are screaming their heads off, not only because they are champions again but also because they have won the title at their rival’s ground. All the team is there except Sol, who quietly walks away, back to the visitors’ dressing room. ‘I thought it best. I didn’t want to be disrespectful in front of the Spurs fans.’ When all the players return, Sol is waiting. He has spent the moments alone, not in celebration but in frustration. He turns on his goalkeeper.

‘I was really fucked off that we gave away that last-minute goal. I so wanted to win the game. I want to win every game. It’s the beginning and the end for me. I always gave a hundred per cent if I could, for whoever I was playing for. To see Jens throw it away like that really pissed me off. So there’s everyone enjoying themselves, and I’m having a right go at Jens.’

The argument fades. They are in heaven. The title is theirs. The players return to the pitch to celebrate again with their fans, and this time Sol joins them. He thinks of all the hard work he’s put in to get to this place: the early mornings, the care over what he put in his body, the training sessions, his unfailing determination to improve every time he went onto the field, on the road in those crappy hotels. Fleeting thoughts when he steps on the White Hart Lane soil, but there nevertheless.

The stadium is now empty except for the deluge of noise coming from the far corner of the Park Lane End. A banner has been displayed. ‘Why did Sol leave the Lane? Arsenal Champions! 43 Years and you’re still waiting!’ Sol looks up and sees it. He finds comfort in the word ‘Champions’ but nothing else.

Patrick Vieira slaps Sol on the back. His captain; they had become friends. ‘He was very much our captain, a good captain but he loved me to shout at him. “Sol!” he would yell, “I like it when you shout at me! It gets me going.”’

‘I liked him shouting at me because there were times I could fade out of the game. He always kept me focused,’ says Vieira.

‘He was an intelligent man,’ Sol says. ‘So were many of that team. It helps…’

When you look back at the history of successful sides over the years, they always had players that were intelligent on and off the field. It seemed Arsenal were overflowing with them. ‘It’s true,’ says Sol. ‘Henry, Vieira, Bergkamp, Ljungberg, Seaman, Kanu …and me, of course.’

• • •

Arsenal remained unbeaten for the rest of the season, finishing with a 2-1 home win over Leicester City in the last game. Their league record that season was 26 wins, 12 draws and 0 losses, over 38 games in total. ‘As a team, we loved and cared for each other. Sometimes, we didn’t have to talk and we knew how the other felt. It reflected on the way we played our football,’ says Thierry Henry.

There wasn’t much time for Sol to celebrate his team’s remarkable achievement, as England were off to the European Championships in Portugal. Some people are said to find an excess of success as difficult, if not more difficult to handle than failure. But not Sol. He knew his success, and that of the team, was justified. His body stature, which was always naturally positive, became even more so. He walked through everyday life with an air of hyper-confidence. He may not have noticed the change but his friends did.

Sol spent these days in silent communion, feeling justified in leaving Spurs for Arsenal, taking comfort in joining up with the England squad as a champion, and basking in the respect he got from friends and Arsenal fans. He didn’t go overboard in congratulating himself – ‘Once you start believing the plaudits, you have to believe in everything else’ – but these days were good for Sol. Sadly, the winning feeling would not last long.

• • •

Sol came back from Euro 2004 a disappointed man. It is painful to return to your country when your international team has been knocked out of a tournament, made even worse at that time because Sol truly believed England could have won.

He tries to avoid switching on the television. Each time he does, there’s something going on about the Euros. Leave it, he tells himself, and takes out the plug from the wall socket. All it creates is frustration, a feeling that the team should still be out there, playing.

He keeps to himself, not venturing out from his house, not even once. No restaurant, no shopping. It is difficult to face anyone. This is not simply about losing; it is far more. It’s dealing with the hopes and disappointment of a nation.

He needs to get out of the country, away from the news, the constant murmur of disappointment from…Everyone. He feels fatigued. Mentally exhausted. He arranges a ten-day break in Italy on the Amalfi coast. He rents a boat and spends his days finding a peace. He wakes up early and goes up on deck. He spends the early hours looking out at the blueness, the sea and sky appearing to converge into one. It’s the first time he has the space in his mind to reflect on the death of his father the previous summer. He had been too busy concentrating on the present, not the past; winning the Premiership and then playing for England in the Euros. Now he feels completely alone. He paces the deck, wondering what on earth he’s doing there. It’s as if he’s received permission from God to avoid thoughts about certain things. But what about his father’s death? He tried to understand his character. Looking at his life as a whole, not just parts. Not to struggle with it, but to surrender. ‘Although he never recognised how hard I worked to get to the top and also to stay there, I tried during that period to see it his way. His upbringing, his family, how nothing was given to him. So to succeed, you would naturally have to work hard. So why should he notice me? It was something he expected.’ Although Sol tries to live for the present, he was looking to come to terms with what was behind him.

• • •

Sol missed the opening games of the 2004-05 season. He had a knee injury and was still tired. ‘It isn’t surprising that I was susceptible to injury. On reflection, I was exhausted. I learned when I went to Lilleshall, how to look after my body. I had to work hard to maintain my fitness. I saw that. I knew then I had to get the best out of my body to compete at the very highest level. I remember having a physical. It was a series of tests: 3,000 metre runs, sprints, jumps, circuits. The first time the results were announced, I was fourth from bottom. I even think the goalkeeper beat me. I promised myself this would not happen again. Never. So the next time we were tested, I finished fourth from top. From then, I’ve always maintained my fitness as best as I could. Fourteen years old is a very good age for a footballer to address that side of his game. It then becomes natural. Part of your everyday routine.’

Arsenal won the Community Shield 3-1 against Manchester United and continued their unbeaten run in the Premier League. They equalled the unbeaten League record by beating Middlesbrough 5-3 at Highbury, after coming back from two goals down at the start of the second half, which is described by many Gunners fans as the most intense twenty minutes of football they ever witnessed. Three days later, they surpassed the previous record of 42 games held by Nottingham Forest, by beating Blackburn 3-0.

• • •

Manchester United 2 Arsenal 0, Premier League, Old Trafford, 24 October 2004

Manchester Utd: Carroll, Gary Neville, Ferdinand, Silvestre, Heinze, Ronaldo (Smith 85), Phil Neville, Scholes, Giggs, Rooney, Van Nistelrooy (Saha 90). Subs Not Used: Howard, Brown, Miller. Goals: Van Nistelrooy 73 pen, Rooney 90.

Arsenal: Lehmann, Lauren, Campbell, Toure, Cole, Ljungberg, Vieira, Edu, Reyes (Pires 70), Bergkamp, Henry. Subs Not Used: Van Persie, Taylor, Fabregas, Cygan.

Att: 67,862. Ref: Mike Riley.

Arsenal’s 49-game unbeaten run in the Premier League finally comes to an end at title rivals Manchester United. In a match that threatened to boil over in the first half, a controversial penalty decision against Campbell gives Van Nistelrooy the chance to open the scoring in the second period. The visitors fail to make all their late pressure count, and in the final minute Rooney bags United’s second from close range to send the Old Trafford faithful home happy.

Sol had returned to action a few games previously. The first and all-important goal featured Sol. ‘It was a terrible decision. He dived, as simple as that,’ he says about the penalty awarded against him after Rooney went down like a skater on melting ice. ‘He knew, I knew, and by the end of the game everyone watching on television also knew.’ Rooney then doubled the score late on. ‘I refused to shake his hand at the end. He cheated,’ Sol says.

Back in the dressing room, Sol was removing his boots when he heard a scuffle going on outside. In the papers the following day, the incident became known as ‘Pizzagate’. The dressing room door flew open and Sol saw players and staff from both sides pushing and shoving each other, like trapped cattle in a pen. A slice of pizza, allegedly a margherita, was hurled by an Arsenal player and hit the Manchester United manager Sir Alex Ferguson. Sol recalls the incident as if squinting at a faded photograph. ‘The area outside the dressing room is very narrow and tight. Something was bound to happen. I didn’t really see the incident with my own eyes. In the end, no-one came forward but it wasn’t taken that seriously by the club. It sort of brought the team even closer together. Us against the rest of the world stuff.’

Names were mentioned but the perpetrator never stepped forward. Ashley Cole best sums it up: ‘The culprit wasn’t English or French, so that should narrow it down.’ For a couple of days, the incident submerged the extraordinary 49-game unbeaten run from 2003 to 2004 that had just ended for Arsenal. It was a record to be proud of.

	Played	Won	Drawn	Lost	For	Against	Points
Home	25	20	5	0	63	21	65
Away	24	16	8	0	49	14	56
OverAll	49	36	13	0	112	35	121

‘For me, there was a sense of relief that the record was over,’ says Sol. ‘It started to become incredibly intense, following us everywhere. I was very disappointed we’d lost, and in the manner by which the end came, but I felt as if an albatross had been removed. My overriding feeling was of pride to be part of history and a group of players that became a family.’

Wenger said of his team, ‘I felt very privileged to work with these players, not only because they were strong but also because they were respectable. They were dedicated players who came from all over the world and created a unique bit of history in football. It was truly amazing.’

• • •

Sol was pissed off. He’d been left out of the team.

As the 2004-05 season progressed, Wenger had begun to pick Kolo Touré and Pascal Cygan, then Philippe Senderos, as his regular central defensive pair, meaning Sol was no longer first choice. Only a year before, he was the number one pick in defence for one of the best teams ever in the Premier League. That defence had let in twenty-six goals all season. Now he was being dropped and was on the bench. ‘Things in football can change very quickly,’ says Sol. It was time to talk to Wenger about it. Not to tell him he was leaving but to have his say and understand where he stood, what was happening. Come on, look at my quality. I just need you to back me up and help me to get over the bumps in my form. He was thinking exactly this as he walked to the manager’s office. He didn’t often want, or even need, to see Wenger face-to-face. But this time was different. On entering the office, he noticed immediately how tidy it was. Nothing out of place, papers neatly piled, pens in a straight line and the phone positioned close enough to grab for an important call. There was little hanging on the walls apart from a few football photos; they were devoid of personality. This place had a sense of peace. So peaceful, in fact, that he almost felt he needed to whisper. But instead, he put forward his case in a forthright way he’d rehearsed earlier. Even then, Wenger remained unmoved.

‘These two are playing well,’ Wenger said. ‘And I don’t want to change it.’

‘But Senderos isn’t playing well,’ replied Sol. ‘He’s a lucky player. I’ve been watching him. He keeps making mistakes. His real luck is that none of his mistakes have been taken advantage of. But it won’t last…There’s nothing personal here, I like these players, but I don’t think they’re up to the job.’

Wenger shook his head in disagreement. Sol took a deeper look at his manager. He asked Wenger to repeat what he thought he had just heard.

‘They are our future,’ Wenger said.

Sol couldn’t see it. He wanted to argue but he knew it would be a waste of time. He was speechless. The meeting finished calmly. Wenger stood and shook his hand firmly. He made it clear to Sol that he wasn’t just part of the club but a very important part.

• • •

Arsenal had a successful run in the FA Cup, progressing all the way thanks to a reasonably favourable draw to the final to play Manchester United later that year in May 2005.

The manager didn’t immediately tell Sol that he would not be playing but he didn’t need to. ‘I probably knew three or four days before. You always know because you are playing on the other team, the reserve side, in training.’ Senderos had remained the preferred choice. There was little chance Sol would make the first team unless someone got injured.

He asked Wenger a second time what was happening. On this occasion it was following a team meeting, and after everyone had left the room. ‘The boss basically said he was happy with the way the team was playing. I left it at that. I had to look at the bigger picture.’

For a defender, just as it is with a goalkeeper, it is more difficult to get back in the first team. A striker can go out and score a last-minute winner and change everything in a second. It doesn’t work the same for someone in defence, and Sol was well aware of the fact. But he was patient, held counsel on how much this was hurting, and sat on the bench. ‘Life is shit on the bench,’ he says, looking back now. ‘It feels unnatural, just sitting there watching. Perhaps it’s the same for anyone, but for me it was torture.’ He watched the entire cup final from the subs’ bench, rigid, every second a beating pulse urging him to get on the field. It was as if someone had struck him on the back of the head. This was an emotional strike, which added to a pain that was already growing. ‘I remember he was very disappointed to be left out,’ Wenger said. ‘He took the FA Cup very seriously. He understood its history and importance. I noticed if we were knocked out of the competition, he more than anyone took it the hardest.’

When Patrick Vieira scored the winning penalty in the shootout, Sol ran onto the pitch to celebrate with his team-mates. There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation in supporting his team’s success. He was happy for them and ultimately for himself; he’d picked up his second FA Cup winner’s medal with Arsenal.

Arsenal vice-chairman David Dein and Arsene Wenger announce the signing of the Tottenham captain in front of a stunned press at Highbury in July 2001. Sol: ‘I just hope everyone respects my decision.’

Arsene Wenger and Sol shake hands on the deal to bring the Spurs captain to Highbury.

‘It was a special moment for me.’ Sol makes his debut for Arsenal, coming on as a substitute during their pre-season friendly in Austria against AS Roma in the summer of 2001.