Carra: My Autobiography (9 page)

Even if this line of reasoning was valid, for all those who weren't considered good enough, I'd suggest the ones who were more than made up for it. As a football club, we should have spent less time arguing with Heighway about what we didn't have and been more appreciative of what we did have. This was the argument Heighway was ready, willing and able to throw back at people whenever his methods were questioned. He was no shrinking violet. When you've delivered at least two of the greatest strikers in Liverpool history and arguably the best central midfielder in Europe, all within the space of a few years, you don't expect to have to justify yourself.

Both Houllier and Benitez would talk to me about their frustrations with Heighway. Maybe they were seeking confirmation I agreed with them. Perhaps they were trying to convince me of their responses. Then I'd look around the training pitch and see teenage 'gems' such as Djimi Traore, Sebastian Leto, Anthony Le Tallec, Gregory Vignal, Carl Madjani, Alou Diarra and Gabriel Palletta.

I have to admit it. Had I been forced to pick sides in this squabble, I'd have been standing alongside my former youth coach.

The longer I've been at Anfield, and the more I've seen teenagers come and go from abroad, the angrier I've become at hearing Heighway's work under so much attack. Throughout the last two decades, more than any Premier League team, Liverpool's best players have been homegrown. Only Manchester United can compete with us on this score. Imagine the last decade and a half without Owen, Fowler, McManaman and Gerrard. And yes, I'll add my name to the list. Think about our greatest triumphs – the FA Cup wins, the Champions League, the League Cups. Who were the heroes that day? Of course both Houllier and Benitez made good signings who played a crucial part, but no one's going to tell me we'd have had the same success if it hadn't been for the Academy boys who cost nothing.

Had Heighway brought through just one worldclass player in ten years he'd have deserved congratulation. To find at least five, and plenty of others who were sold for a good price, is a track record deserving of far more respect. I'm not going to say the success or otherwise of our youth policy was all down to him, or that some mistakes weren't made. Whether Heighway was at Liverpool or not, I'm 90 per cent certain I'd have made it with or without his assistance. But then it stands to reason that if he doesn't deserve all the credit, he certainly doesn't warrant all the criticism either.

I don't blame him for the shortage of local talent in recent times. If the players aren't there, what's an Academy director meant to do about it? I don't care how good a coach is, there's one absolute certainty in football: no one can turn a bad player into a good one. You've either got what it takes, or you haven't. If it's there, good coaches will nurture it, draw it out of you, and your own personality can influence how capable you are of taking your skills on to the pitch. Heighway was probably instrumental in adding 10 per cent to my game, and that could have made all the difference. But if there's nothing to work with, it's a hopeless cause.

Liverpool, like many top clubs, have suffered because it's impossible to guarantee worldclass youngsters breaking through on an annual basis. Where are the North London boys emerging through the Arsenal or Spurs ranks? How many Salford lads have made their debut at Old Trafford since the mid-1990s? Or Geordies at Newcastle? Some of the best youngsters 'produced' by the biggest clubs have been stolen from other parts of the country, or shipped from abroad. Which part of Manchester was David Beckham born in? How good did Arsène Wenger's scouts need to be to spot Cesc Fabregas in the Barcelona youth team and offer him huge wages to emigrate at the age of sixteen? I've seen similar tactics at Liverpool recently. Our scouts bring a new member of the Spanish Under-18 side for a trial every month. I won't lie – I don't like it. We're behaving like Pied Pipers, enticing children to England with the promise of wealth, even though there's no certainty too many will make it at such a tender age. The way it's going, you'll soon be seeing Premier League scouts hanging around maternity wards in Madrid, Barcelona and Paris waiting for the next prodigy to be delivered by a midwife.

I understand why we've jumped on board, recruiting foreign teenagers by offering their families huge financial incentives. We've no choice to avoid being left behind. But it's an issue which should be stamped down on. I'd rather the authorities took action to ensure everyone followed the same rules and stopped stealing young talent from elsewhere.

Our record in terms of bringing in overseas teenagers is, at best, dodgy. Houllier pinned his hopes on Traore at seventeen, and later Florent Sinama-Pongolle and Le Tallec cost the club £7 million. None could be described as a success. Benitez took the philosophy to a new extreme, and it looks as though it might finally be working to the club's advantage. Last season we won the Reserve League with a mix of foreign and youth-team players, and there's a chance one or two will be promoted into the first team. I fully expect signings such as Spanish striker Dani Pacheco and Hungarian Krisztian Nemeth to play regularly for us at the highest level. At the time of writing this book, however, we've had ten years at Anfield without a single top young foreign player being brought through our ranks, and despite their potential there's certainly no indication those who are rated today will have the impact of a Fowler, a McManaman, an Owen or a Gerrard. I'm eager to see the outstanding local boy who was a key part of our last Youth Cup win, Jay Spearing, get the opportunity he deserves, and also Stephen Darby and Martin Kelly.

Yet, even if one of our teenage recruits is a triumph, morally I'd say it's wrong. If Liverpool have the next Gerrard coming through and Real Madrid decide to buy him when he's fifteen, how will we feel?

I spend a lot of time in Kirkby working with the coaches and I'm often asked to get involved in the recruitment process if Liverpool identify a nine-year-old with potential. It's disturbing to hear some of the arguments made by parents who say they may send their child to Everton instead, simply because they're not seeing our local boys get a chance. If we don't put this right, when the next Owen, Gerrard or Carragher comes along, he may not want to come to Anfield. I'd urge all youngsters to head to Liverpool as their first choice, of course. Our facilities are as good as any in Europe, and the rewards if you do make it are overwhelming.

I have to believe class will tell in the end, that if you're good enough you'll make it, but the warning signs must be heeded. We must encourage our local boys to believe it's possible not only to follow the instant route to superstardom of Owen, Fowler and Gerrard, but also to come through the ranks and develop as I did. The Academy system at Anfield today is unrecognizable from ten years ago, and flooding the clubs with foreigners who are no better will never sit comfortably with me, but I'm not going to join the anti-foreign crusade others are leading. Having said that, common sense must prevail to preserve our own traditions. We want to recruit the best to help us become better, not the mediocre who stop us from playing and developing at all.

It's thrilling to see so many of the world's top players coming here and raising standards and entertainment levels. The moment Fernando Torres walked into Anfield was when I believed we had a striker who could help us compete with United and Chelsea again. The good overseas players help English players. John Terry couldn't have wished for a better tutor at Chelsea than Marcel Desailly; Manchester United's youngsters were assisted by the years they spent alongside Eric Cantona. It's the foreigners lower down the scale that bother me. There are average and poor players joining our league on the cheap simply because they've more experience than the English youngsters.

I'd favour a new rule where at least six of every club's eighteen-man squad hail from the country in which that club plays its football. You'd soon see a greater priority placed on developing and blooding local talent. It wouldn't stop the top clubs buying the best internationals from Spain or France, but it might make them think twice about purchasing so many fringe players from abroad.

English football as a whole needs to rethink how quickly players are judged, how to ensure those with the potential to step up get the opportunity to do so. The history of our game is littered with examples of worldclass performers who peaked in their late twenties. Look at John Aldridge, or Ian Wright. How many lower-league players get plucked from obscurity these days?

It's a European problem, but as the wealthiest and most attractive league in the world, it's starting to affect England more than others. And within that, because of our reputation, I often feel a more critical glance is directed at Anfield whenever another year passes without a local graduate, even though no one has produced as many internationals as Liverpool within such a short space of time. The reason the flow has temporarily stopped at Liverpool is a combination of luck and unforeseen circumstances.

For a start, it was a mistake to separate The Academy from the first team geographically. The new complex should have kept us all together. The more astute watched and learned, picking up invaluable tips from the professionals. The hunger burned inside to follow in their boot steps while we did our jobs, whether it was cleaning the players' boots, collecting the police cones after a day's training, or washing down the showers. This has all changed with the introduction of Academy football. Traditional 'apprentice' work is a thing of the past. Even the nine-year-olds have the smartest white boots and kits. I know twelve-year-olds who have their own agents. Youngsters are already preparing for a Liverpool career before they've any experience or grasp of the hard work required to achieve such an ambition. Some are being misled into believing they have a better chance of making it than they actually do. It's cruel.

I don't begrudge their better quality of life. Every generation thinks the latest has got it easy when it comes to material possessions. My dad thought we were lucky because we had four TV channels and an inside toilet when we were growing up. In years to come, my children may laugh about the days when they had only a few hundred channels to watch. I've used the benefits of my career to make sure my kids want for nothing. It's a natural reaction. But you do wonder what impact it has on the drive of youngsters to push on and fulfil their ambitions.

I was never motivated by money, but I appreciated a successful football career would change my life. How many of those at The Academy today truly want it as badly as I did? I've seen plenty of 'nice' lads playing for the youth side, but not enough of the working-class scallies I played alongside at the same age. If you're from what's considered an 'underprivileged' background, perhaps the longing to better yourself is stronger. I see this in the African lads now. They understand what real poverty is, and their desire to change their future may add that extra 5 or 10 per cent some of our lads are lacking. I've heard both Houllier and Benitez argue it's the lack of desire, character and strength of players arriving from Kirkby that is worrying as much as concerns about technical ability.

That's when they'd repeat this annoying sentence: 'It's not the next Owen or Gerrard we expect, but another Carragher.' That's supposed to sound like a compliment, but it's hitting me on the arse with a backhand. I'm presented as some kind of example of a player who isn't worldclass at a young age, but with the right guidance and coaching can take his game to an extra level. To some extent I accept this evaluation of my career, but I also feel insulted by the implication I wasn't an outstanding player when I was sixteen. I made my debut in the senior side just two years later, so it shouldn't be such a surprise I'm still here twelve years on. To suggest there have been a lot of other players out there who could have been as good as me but for weak Academy coaching is not only offensive to Steve Heighway, it's disrespectful to me. I'm not an average player who suddenly became good enough to play for Liverpool. I was in the elite group at Lilleshall, so I had every justification for believing I was one of the best players in the country for my age. I wasn't in Mo's or Stevie's class (who is?) but I was no 'average joe' either. I resent the notion that I've achieved in the game despite my limitations rather than because of my strengths.

I'm prepared to give credit where it's due to the likes of Heighway, Houllier and Benitez, all of whom did their job to get the best out of me, but I'm also prepared to dent my ultra-modest reputation to make this point: with or without them, I was good enough to play for Liverpool throughout the modern era, and quite possibly in previous ones too.

Throughout my career, my reputation has been one of a nononsense physical type of player. At sixteen I was a striker praised for my technical abilities. My passing, control and understanding of the game were my best qualities. Heighway always believed I'd play for the first team, but I was a slow developer. I was smaller and less muscular than many of my teammates, and I didn't have the electrifying pace of Mo or the strength of Stevie, but I'd always been thought of as a potential first-teamer. I lived up to my expectations rather than defied them. As my career developed, it became obvious to me that if I had been from Bologna rather than Bootle, playing for Italy rather than England, I'd be rated higher.

Naturally, there was no instant success, and there were times when I doubted how I'd cope with the step up. My first games against older professionals were especially challenging. My debut for Liverpool's 'B' team ended in a 4–1 defeat to Manchester United. 'Welcome to the real world, lad!' the football industry seemed to scream at me. I was now playing big boys' games with big boys' rules. I was sixteen and taking on League players in their twenties. It was like being back at primary school and being thrown in against the seniors. My body needed to develop before I could cope.