#2Sides: My Autobiography (19 page)

Brazil was my first World Cup as a fan rather than a player but I only got to see one game in person, Bosnia-Herzegovina v. Argentina. All the rest I watched on TV like most people! Pretty crazy, eh? But I was working for the BBC so I couldn’t pick and choose. At the Maracanã, as soon as the national anthems started, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and all I could think of was, ‘I’d love to be playing!’ The brilliant Argentina supporters were going mad and the atmosphere was unforgettable. But then all the South Americans were brilliant. Most nights I would walk along the Copacabana with my friend Jamie, just people-watching. I’d put my cap on and keep walking, hoping not to get recognised because I just wanted to drink in the occasion. The best-supported teams were Argentina, Chile, Uruguay and Colombia, and their campervans were in all of the side and back streets, covered with flags. Fans had driven across
the continent and every night were out partying, drinking and having sing-offs against each other.

The two most memorable moments of the tournament itself were the two biggest shocks: Spain getting hammered 5–1 by the Dutch in the first round, and Brazil collapsing 7–1 to Germany in the semi-final. Holland–Spain was the end of one era. Brazil–Germany, was the beginning of another. It was just crazy. Both times, in the studio, we just kept looking at each and saying, ‘Are we really witnessing this?’ I’d spoken to Ruud Gullit a couple of nights before the first game and, like everyone, he said Holland had no chance as their defence wasn’t good enough. Then they went out and put on a performance like that! You just thought, ‘Wow!’ And then something even more astonishing happened. The host nation got destroyed in their own backyard. It was just surreal. Every time Brazil played a match the atmosphere in Rio was extraordinary. Up in the favelas on the mountains above Copacabana there would be gunshots and fireworks. Everyone was so excited. After the 7–1, I went out into the city expecting mayhem. But it was just very quiet and there was a sense of shock. All the people walking around seemed to be thinking: ‘Did we really just see that? … We’re going to wake up tomorrow … this can’t be true.’

The two teams I enjoyed watching the most were Chile and Colombia. I especially liked the thrustful way Chile played. As soon as they won the ball, they went at their opponents. Meanwhile, Colombia had James Rodríguez, who I reckon is going to be the best player in the world within two or three years. He is the heir to the throne of Ronaldo and Messi and was just electrifying. Every time he got the ball he was looking to hurt the opposition with through balls, or making runs, committing people, shooting, setting up chances. And he’s left-footed! Somehow, everything just looks
better when you’re left-footed. I said before the tournament that he’d be one to watch but I didn’t expect him to be quite as good as he was. But other players you wanted to be brilliant never really rose to the occasion. Messi, Ronaldo and Neymar didn’t quite do what we hoped they would do. But Thomas Müller was brilliant, as was the whole German team. Schweinsteiger, Kroos and Khedira were great and Neuer, their goalkeeper, was just unbelievable. I liked Cuadrado the right-midfielder for Colombia and Alexis Sánchez for Chile as well: exciting players doing exciting things for their countries.

Something else made a big impression on me. After I visited the England team following the Italy game, I went to the Dutch squad’s hotel. The difference was so telling! The English had just lost so obviously they were a bit dejected. It’s natural. Then I went to the Dutch team where I met Robin van Persie. Holland had just beaten Spain and everyone was smiling and Robin was laughing his head off, telling jokes, and talking about Louis van Gaal. He was saying, ‘He tells us before the game, “this is how the game is going to play out” … and everything happens exactly as he predicts. He didn’t say we were going to score five goals but he did tell us how we were going to win.’ Robin was still bubbling after his amazing flying header goal. I asked him how he’d done it because normally you’d expect the striker to take a touch in that situation. He said it was pure instinct.

On the way back to our hotel I said to Jamie: ‘That team is going to go deep in this tournament. They believe in the manager, in his ideas and philosophy. If he tells them the grass is blue, the grass is blue. If he tells them the sky is green, the sky is flipping green. They’re going everywhere with him!’ Another aspect that impressed me was that Van Gaal treated his players as grown-ups. One evening we were in a bar at the hotel with Fabio Cannavaro,
waiting for Christian Vieri to come along. All of a sudden almost the entire Dutch team turn up and start chilling in this bar. I sat down next to Sneijder and said ‘What’s going on? Are you allowed in here?’ He was like, ‘Yeah, the manager said to go. As long as we’re back in the hotel by 11, it’s fine.’ Me and Jamie just looked at each other and started laughing. Our players are treated like complete babies. It doesn’t really matter whether that’s because people have made mistakes in the past, or the manager doesn’t trust the players or he doesn’t trust the media who would make a story of it. I don’t think the Dutch media even mentioned it. Their players looked free and relaxed: ‘Yeah, we’re out and we’ll be back in a little while. It doesn’t matter. We’re not doing anything crazy.’ I started thinking: this lot have got it sorted, tactically, technically and there’s a great spirit in the team.

One of the best things about being at the tournament was the chance to meet legends like George Weah, Bakero, Pelé and Valderrama. And I loved going out for drinks and dinner with guys I’d played against over the years like Fabio Cannavaro, Christian Vieri, Clarence Seedorf and Thierry Henry. There was no competitive edge to them. We just chilled and relaxed and talked about good old times and the future of football. One conversation with Christian Vieri made a particular impression. He was known as a bit of a playboy in his time and he lives in Miami now. He said: ‘I love my life now but I finished playing a year or two too early.’ His advice to me was: play as long as you can, play till you feel you physically can’t do it anymore. Others said the same thing. Shearer, Lineker, Keown and Seedorf said ‘Just keep playing.’ Ruud Gullit surprised me by telling me he had his most enjoyable time at the end of his career at Chelsea, who weren’t a top team at the time. After his years in Italy the expectations and the pressure came off when he moved to London, and he just loved it there. He also put
me right about Fabio Capello. I asked what it was like to play in that fantastic Milan team of the late 1980s and early 1990s and he said: ‘But Capello didn’t build that team – he
inherited
it from Arrigo Sacchi.’ If I’d known that when he was England manager I would’ve been less disappointed.

Working for the BBC produced some surprises as well – all good ones. Going in, I hadn’t realised just how good Gary Lineker was. But when I saw him up close everything about him, from the way he conducted himself, to the ad-libbing and writing his own scripts was just so impressive. A lot of what he does is structured, and he’s got a good backup team, but he does a lot of it off the cuff and manages everything brilliantly. He’s made the transition from being a top footballer to become a top man in another field. A lot of people don’t know him as Gary Lineker the footballer, but as Gary Lineker,
Match of the Day
man, and Gary Lineker, Walker’s Crisps man.

I already knew some of the other old players I was working with. I’d played with or against Danny Murphy, Phil Neville and Martin Keown. Robbie Savage used to live near me. I knew Clarence Seedorf and Thierry Henry as well. But the biggest surprise was Alan Shearer. I’d played with him about ten or 15 times for England, but I’d never had a conversation with him. He was the captain but it was Tony Adams who came over and went, ‘Hope you’re all right and if you need anything, come and see me.’ I always found Alan Shearer a bit cold. I don’t know what to expect, but he was one of the nicest people. He made me feel so welcome. He was relaxed and at ease with himself. We had a good few nights out, a good few beers. If I needed any help or advice, he was there, and I felt we worked well on TV together. In fact, the dynamics in the studio worked really well with everyone. The BBC people made it very comfortable for me. Alan Hansen was great too.
Everyone knows how brilliant he’s been but within the BBC walls, his foibles are famous too: he falls asleep quite a lot and people are always taking the mick out of him – but he gives as good as he gets.

It was his last tournament, so there was a party after the final, and everyone had to do a little piece to camera about him. I said: ‘What a fantastic player, really good on the ball, silky, started attacks at the back, won loads, was a great leader, well-liked by his teammates, what a fantastic player, a legend … That’s me. Now let’s talk about Alan Hansen.’ That got a nice little chuckle. Then we were having a few drinks in the hotel – until the barman shut the bar! So we all went down to one of the little shacks on the beach which sell alcohol and melon. There must have been about 30 or 40 BBC people and locals and there was a beat system, so I got out my Ipad and found myself DJ’ing for Alan Hansen’s
Match of the Day
farewell party on the Copacabana! A nice bit of Oasis, Happy Mondays, Bob Marley, and everyone was singing and dancing along. It was brilliant.

I’d worked as a pundit before, for BT Sport, but this was the biggest football tournament of all. The whole nation was watching and football history was being made. But I never allowed myself to think like that. I didn’t think ’14 or 15 million people are watching.’ I didn’t let that get into my head. Instead, I treated it like I was sitting and talking as I would to my mates in the pub or at home. I didn’t get nervous, but I approached each commentary as professionally as I would a match I was playing in. One crucial aspect was research. If you don’t do your preparation, if you don’t find out everything you can about teams, players and coaches, you leave yourself wide open. There’s a lot more to the whole process than meets the eye of the viewer. Every morning at breakfast one of the directors of the show came to meet me and discussed the running order of the show, which players would I like to profile and
so on. The whole thing was a good education, and the feedback I’ve had for my match-day work and for the
Rio in Rio
documentary I made was all very positive.

Early in the tournament I was doing a game every day, but once the group games were over and the number of games decreased all of a sudden you’re getting a day off here and there. That’s when I got a chance to indulge a bit on the beach and go off and do the documentary to see what life is like in the favelas. We went into Santa Marta and it was an eye-opener to see how ordinary people there live. They’re poor and there are open sewers down the little alleyways. But the people there feel strongly about the government’s ‘resettlement’ plans. They were saying: ‘Leave us alone. We don’t want anything. We understand poverty. We know how to get along. We’re happy. If you can give us infrastructure, fantastic. But if not, leave us alone. Don’t come in and tear our favelas apart. We live here. We have history here.’ These people have lived in these places for years and years with their families. And they are being taken out of there for no reason I can see other than money. The real estate there is the best real estate in the city. The favelas are up in the mountains so they have beautiful views over the sea. The people there were telling me the government has broken its promises. Money is not being spent on transport systems, hospitals and education for the kids. So where is it going? That’s why they are upset. The process underway is called ‘pacification’. The military will go in and control the drug barons and ‘pacify’ the favela. Sometimes the authorities go in and basically ransack the favela, take over homes and move the people to a different part of the city. Some of these people work nearby in the centre of Rio, and they’re being moved to three or four hours away. It’s ridiculous. They’re much worse off after they are moved away from friends and family. Imagine someone coming into your front room and saying, ‘Right,
you got a week to get out, and by the way, where you’re going is worse than here.’

I had a memorable time in Brazil. I met some great people, and I’d love to go back. Waking up on the Copacabana beach every morning, you can’t ask for much more than that, can you? Unfortunately, you could have asked for quite a bit more from England in the tournament. Our early exit as bottom team in our group, beaten by Italy and Uruguay, and with just one point from three games reminded us that something is fundamentally wrong in our national game. If it isn’t fixed we’ll be also-rans forever.

At one level, I thought we missed an opportunity to give youth its head. If Roy Hodgson had said at the outset: ‘This is the tournament for the young players. We’re not expecting to win the World Cup but we are preparing for the 2016 Euros and I want to give the kids experience. Win, lose or draw, as long as I see progress, it will be a good World Cup for us …’ If he’d done that, maybe we would be able to go into the next tournament with more optimism. In England’s first match against Italy it was exciting to see young players like Raheem Sterling, Ross Barkley, Danny Welbeck and Daniel Sturridge playing without fear. Raheem Sterling looked like he could win us the game. But then we got caught at the back and it fell apart. I was disappointed that in the second two games we didn’t see any progress.

But even looking at the tournament like that is taking a short-term approach. The problems in our game that need to be addressed go much deeper. We have to be thinking about the Under 14s and 15s as the Germans and other top countries do. There are cycles in football and we need to create one of our own. Look at the
Dutch. Going into the tournament, they were the least fancied of the bigger nations but they ended up a penalty shootout away from the final. That all stems from a Dutch philosophy developed over many years which puts an emphasis on technical excellence and passing. The Dutch performances were directly linked to their football history and tradition. Maybe their football wasn’t as easy on the eye this time as it has been in the past. But it was still clearly in line with their ideas about youth development, coaching and tactical doctrines. They’ve been clever and clear-sighted about their football for decades and we need to create something like that for ourselves.