Hooked: Addiction and the Long Road to Recovery by Paul Merson with Rob Bagchi (Headline 2021)

 

'Still,’ I thought, ‘who goes to the World Cup from the league I’m in?’

I did. To go to the World Cup when you’re not playing in the Premier League is a massive achievement, I realise now, and I owe it all to Glenn. I remember Ray Parlour saying to me after he’d just won the Double at Arsenal in 1998 and wasn’t getting a look-in with England, that Arsène rang Glenn to ask why. They knew each other from their time at Monaco together and he told Glenn that Ray was playing superbly, made a vital contribution to winning the Double and that he did not understand why he wasn’t involved. He turned to Ray after he put the phone down and said, ‘You’ve just got to hope he gets the sack.’ When Kevin Keegan came in, Ray played for England but I never got a call-up. Ray was no better in 2000 than he was in 1998, I was better in 2000 than I was two years earlier. It’s all about the manager. If he likes you, you’ve got a chance. If not . . . you’re stuffed.

Ray having a laugh with the lads about what he claimed to have said when he went to see Glenn’s faith healer Eileen Drewery – ‘short back and sides, please, Eileen’ – didn’t help. I went to Eileen with an open mind and liked her. I was struggling so badly with the gambling relapse, bottling it up and keeping it secret out of shame, that I would try anything. It had sent me into a deep depression, but I didn’t know that’s what it was. I’d be so down that I couldn’t get out of bed and the paranoia, which had never really gone away, ramped up. It seemed that everybody was looking at me, judging me. I thought, ‘I need something to work here.’ And whatever help was offered, I would try it. Eileen gave me that calmness, settled my raging doubts and was a big part of me being in the right frame of mind to go out to La Manga with the squad of twenty-eight, which was to be cut to twenty-two after the warm-up games.

It was an odd week. Too many of us felt on trial and I was convinced I’d be one of the six who wouldn’t make it to the World Cup. I don’t know why Glenn did it that way, it was unsettling and there was an air of tension. I expect Glenn thought it would keep everyone on their toes, but most players were a bag of nerves. He wasn’t the best man-manager, at times he became impatient when a player couldn’t do what he wanted. Because he could still play, he often joined in and demonstrated something by doing it himself. After a while players get frustrated with that, a bit jealous. If he had been better at handling people and hadn’t said all that weird stuff about disabled people and karma, he would still be England manager now. No one could touch him as a tactician.

Full Time: The Secret Life Of Tony Cascarino as told to Paul Kimmage (Scribner 2000)

When I close my eyes and think of Glenn Hoddle, two images spring to mind. The first is of Hoddle the player, and that incredible goal for Spurs, when he raced with the ball to the edge of the Watford box and chipped the goalkeeper when everyone expected him to cross. The second is of Hoddle the manager, on the morning Paul Elliott arrived in our dressing room wearing an immaculate leather trenchcoat and stood there, stunned, as Hoddle the manager raced to the 'cover' of a bin in the corner and started shooting him with imaginary bullets — 'Pshhhh', 'Pshhhh' — like a five-year-old with a cowboy pistol set. What Paul didn't realize was that Glenn was trying to be funny, and when Glenn tried to be funny it was time pass around the laughing gas because he was probably the unfunniest man I have ever known, He was also completely besotted with himself.

An addition to "A bursting forth of many things together"

Before I forget . . .

Last Friday's Joy of Six missed the Joy of One.

Tags should include Hoddle; Ardiles; the Guardian's The Joy of Six; League Cup; Jumpers For Goalposts; . . . and does Gary Bailey still have that blond thatch?

Touched by the foot of Hod

Stumbled across this wonderful old Joy of Six article from the Guardian's Rob Smyth in the draft section of the blog and I realised it would be a dereliction of footie duty if I didn't bring it to the attention of my readership.

Check out Krankl's volley against West Germany at the '78 World Cup in Argentina. Is that not a nugget of bastard genius? When you have a left foot as sweet as that you can be forgiven for abominations like this . . . maybe.

Sit down with a glass of mulled wine and the bottom layer of a Terry Old Gold box and check out the YouTube clip of the best goals of the Serie A season from 1990-91. It's like a re-enactment of my best volleyed goals from Greenfield Recreation Park circa 1980/81, and Man City's board may be a collective shower of shithouses for their treatment of Mark Hughes but Roberto Mancini's goal at 1:52 in the clip is a thing of splendour.

With regards to Rob's selected six, it has to be said that one goal is missing from the collection that has to be there front and centre in any discussion of the best volleys of all time.

Maybe the YouTube clip wasn't up at the time of writing? Maybe Rob's on the steering committee of the British Humanist Association? Or maybe 'It's Goodbye' was one song too many? Whatever the reason there's no discernible footballing explanation for why this piece of genius from Glenn Hoddle was omitted from the article:

The quick free kick, the one-two between Ardiles and Hoddle and the latter's balletic grace in striking that volley past Bailey. People bang on about his goal against Watford a few years later but it doesn't hold a candle to this goal (and that other lauded goal was against Steve Sherwood, for christ sake.)

The first leg of a second round League Cup game from August 1979, and I can remember that goal as if it was yesterday. That's a sure fire indication of magic when it's imprinted in your memory like that thirty years after the fact.

I hadn't remembered that they lost the return leg at Old Trafford 3-1 and went out 4-3 on aggregate. Typical Spurs. Happy ending all round.