The Second Half (21 page)

But when you’ve been promoted you’ve got into the habit of winning matches – that’s why you were promoted. And you try to carry that into the Premiership.

We had ten points from fourteen games. It was, generally, panning out the way I’d thought it would, after the giddiness of the first few games. It was going to be a struggle. It was going to be about survival.

We came straight back after the Everton game and beat Derby. Derby were struggling, too, but it was still a massive victory. We did okay against the teams around us, especially at home – and we had to. Stokesy provided the winner. In time added on. Another of our late goals.

I look back at the fixture list and I can point to three or four games we needed to win to stay up. This was one of them. Derby had sacked their manager, Billy Davies, earlier in the week, and he’d been replaced by Paul Jewell. I thought they’d be kicking on a bit for the new manager. But we won. I rested Craig Gordon – and I mean ‘rested’, not dropped – after the seven goals of the week before. We won, but Carlos Edwards broke his leg. That was a big loss for us.

We went to Chelsea and lost, 2–0. We worked hard but it was one of those games where you’d take the 2–0. Liam Miller was sent off for a push on Pizarro. We dropped into the bottom three again, although we had thirteen points from sixteen games, not too far off the point a game figure.

I brought Ricky Sbragia to the club. Ricky had experience at Bolton and I knew him from United. I was always thinking of moving things around, and Ricky was more of a defensive coach. I thought he’d help us. I moved Neil Bailey to work with the development squad – what used to be called the reserves. But I should have left the staff the way they were.

We drew at home to Villa. We were robbed. We’d a goal in the last minute; Danny Collins headed in from a set piece. It was disallowed – a disgraceful decision. The extra two points, and the win, would have been massive for us. I read afterwards that I pursued the referee, Steve Bennett, down the tunnel after the game. But I had to go that way anyway, to the dressing room. Was I supposed to go out to the car park?

The game at Reading, just before Christmas, was the only time I really lost my temper as a manager. I’d lost my temper before – but I’d
used
my temper. This time I used physical force. I grabbed a staff member, put his head on a table, and tried to pull his tie off. But he was a Reading staff member, not one of ours.

It was the first half, a tight game. Maybe the pressure was building on me – I don’t know. Steve Coppell was managing Reading, and he had a couple of lads working with him, Wally Downes and Kevin Dillon. I looked across at their dugout, and Kevin Dillon was looking back across, calling me a wanker.

I go, ‘What – me?’

He goes, ‘Yeah – yeah. You’re always on at the fucking referee.’

I said nothing back. I never got involved with opposition managers or staff – never.

We got to half-time, and I’m walking back to the tunnel beside Kevin Dillon, and I say, ‘Are you calling me a wanker?’

And he goes, ‘Well, you’re always on at the referee.’

I said, ‘I never said fuck all to the referee. Who the fuck are you calling a wanker?’

But I went to our dressing room, and thought no more of it.

The second half, and we’re robbed – again – in injury time. Stephen Hunt got a shot in, and the linesman on the far side reckoned it was over the line. It wasn’t, but the goal was given. It was another big, big loss for us. When it was 1–1, Kenwyne had gone through and was near to winning it for us, in injury time. So, instead of winning, we’d lost.

At the end of the game, walking down the stairs, I saw Wally Downes shaking all my players’ hands.

‘Unlucky, lads.’

You generally don’t see staff shaking the other team’s hands. I said nothing. It had been a big win for Reading; there was a lot of celebrating. I went into our dressing room. I wasn’t annoyed with the players, more the decision. I spoke to the players and staff.

‘Okay, we’re all upset. But, whatever we do, we’re Sunderland. We show a bit of class. We accept the decision – we move on and get ready for next week.’

The players were getting themselves organised, and I was waiting for my staff, to go in for a drink with Steve Coppell and the Reading lads. I didn’t want to, but I kept thinking, ‘We’re Sunderland – we’ll do things properly.’

The staff were taking ages, so I said, ‘I’ll go on, lads. Follow me in.’

I walked into Steve’s office. Wally Downes was there, and their director of football, Nick Hammond. Kevin Dillon was sitting down.

I go, ‘Well done, lads – well done.’

Wally was right in front of me, and I said, ‘Wally, do you always shake players’ hands after you’ve just beaten them?’

And he goes, ‘Yeah, Roy – yeah, yeah.’

And, as I was talking to Wally, Kevin Dillon stood up, and goes, ‘Don’t you come in here and—’

I grabbed him, got his head on the table, pulled his tie up.

‘I’m fuckin’ warning you—’

Nick Hammond grabbed me.

‘What are you doing?!’

‘You fuckin’—’

‘Get out of our office!’

I went, ‘Fuck yis, anyway.’

Dillon said, ‘What are you having a go at me for? I’m a Sunderland man.’

I went, ‘Fuck you.’

And I walked out.

My staff hadn’t come in yet.

I wasn’t going back to Sunderland that night with the players. I was going home to Manchester, so I had a car waiting for me, to bring me to Heathrow.

My phone went off about ten minutes later. It was one of my staff.

‘Everything all right, gaffer?’

I hadn’t given them a heads-up about what had happened in Steve Coppell’s office. They’d followed me in – after I’d left.

‘All right, lads?’

And somebody said, ‘Your manager has just attacked one of our staff.’

And apparently Raimond van der Gouw, our goalkeeping coach, said, ‘Well, can we still have a sandwich?’

‘No, I think it’s best if you leave.’

Whether I was reacting to the pressure – two unlucky defeats,
our position in the bottom three – I don’t know. I’d like to think I’d have had a go at Dillon even if we’d been top of the table.

We were on a bad run now. We’d lost three in a row, and then Manchester United came to the Stadium of Light on Boxing Day.

We stayed in the Ramside Hall Hotel, near Durham, the night before the game, Christmas night. We got together at about nine or ten o’clock, to give the players more time at home with their families. I put it to the players and staff that, if they wanted, they could have one or two beers. My thinking was it might help them relax before the big game against United. But it mustn’t have worked. Because they beat us 4–0. Rooney was brilliant and Ronaldo was in his pomp. There were 47,000 people there. Maybe it was my ego – ‘Let’s have a go at them.’ We were a bit open. Ronaldo’s goal, a free-kick, just at half-time, killed us. That made it 3–0.

After the game Alex Ferguson came to my office for a drink. When he was leaving, he said to me, ‘Give me a call about Jonny Evans.’

He could see I was down in the dumps after the game. I think he looked at me and thought, ‘He needs a dig-out here.’

It was the one time he showed me – I suppose – affection: ‘I’ll watch your back.’

He caught me off guard – ‘He actually cares, a bit.’

Niall got on to David Gill and we got Jonny, but there was a massive loan fee. So Ferguson showed me affection, but it was business, too. But – and this is important – Jonny made a huge difference to us.

From now on every home game was going to be massive. The next one was four days after the United game, against Bolton. And we won it, 3–1. It was Kieran Richardson’s first full game after his injury and that was a big boost. It was our second win in fourteen games. We were out of the bottom three for the start of the new
year. Obviously, the time to be out of the bottom three is at the end of the season, but it was a psychological thing; there’s always weight attached to the bottom three at the turn of the year.

Our first game of 2008 was at Blackburn. We got a penalty early in the second half. Yorkie was our penalty taker but Dean Whitehead took it instead. He missed; Brad Friedel saved it. Then Blackburn got a dodgy penalty and scored. We lost 1–0. I was fuming afterwards, and I had a go at Yorkie for not taking the penalty. I hammered him, gave him a right bollocking.

‘You fuckin’ bottled it.’

That might have been a bit harsh, but he should have taken the penalty. He took his bollocking well.

We’d dropped back into the bottom three because Wigan, who’d been below us, drew with Liverpool.

The transfer window was open again and we’d got Jonny Evans back on loan. Phil Bardsley came in, also from United. We brought in Rade Prica, from Aalborg, and Andy Reid, from Charlton. Of the four, three worked out well for us – and they were the three lads I knew. Rade had been strongly recommended by the scouts but he didn’t do too much.

Ideally, if you’re interested in a player you try to watch him, possibly ten times, in different circumstances – home, away, derby matches. The manager can’t watch him that often, so he’s relying on his scouts, and videos. We needed a striker, and the scouts were recommending Rade. If you don’t know a player too well, you try to sort out a loan deal. But Rade cost us one or two million. I watched a few video clips of him, and it wasn’t as if I was delighted with what I saw. Staff and scouts push – ‘He’s the answer.’ I took the gamble. But he wasn’t the answer.

I rang Mark Hughes about Robbie Savage. Robbie wasn’t in the Blackburn team, and I asked Mark if we could try to do a deal, a permanent or loan deal.

Sparky said, ‘Yeah, yeah. He’s just lost his way here, but he could still do a job for you.’

Robbie’s legs were going a bit, but I thought he might come up to us, with his long hair, and give us a lift, the way Yorkie had – a big personality in the dressing room.

Sparky gave me permission to give him a call. So I got Robbie’s mobile number and rang him. It went to his voicemail: ‘Hi, it’s Robbie – whazzup!’ – like the Budweiser ad.

I never called him back.

I thought, ‘I can’t be fuckin’ signing that.’

We got knocked straight out of the FA Cup, 3–0 by Wigan – again. It proved to me once more that squad rotation doesn’t work if you don’t have enough top players in your squad. I’d made the same mistake in the League Cup, against Luton. A good run in the Cup could only have helped to build momentum and confidence. But we didn’t get it.

We beat Portsmouth at home, 2–0. Kieran Richardson scored both goals.

We hung our hat on the home matches. We couldn’t keep the ball well enough away from home. A different environment, having to travel, the fans behind the home team – they’ll push their team the extra yard. The home team being used to the surroundings, so many teams like ourselves, fighting for home results – winning away from home is always very hard in the Premiership. Chelsea, United, City – ‘It’s going to be hard to win here.’ Going to Norwich was less obvious, but the travel, from Sunderland, was difficult. There was once, we went to Birmingham and the dressing-room door was locked. We were waiting for ages. Or, we’d arrive too early – encouraged by the home club. We’d be sitting there for hours, waiting for the match. We didn’t play those games at Sunderland. I always wanted the visiting team to speak highly of us.

Home win, away loss, home win, away loss – that was the pattern. We went to Tottenham, and lost. Birmingham came to us – we won. Our new lad, Prica, scored. But he never really kicked a ball after that. We jumped to a mid-table position, because we weren’t drawing matches. We went to Liverpool, and they beat us 3–0. Kieran Richardson was injured again. His hamstring – we’d rushed him back because we were desperate to have him in the team. He was an important player and, as an ex-United player, he was keen to play at Liverpool. A silly mistake.

Wigan came to us, and we beat them – at last – 2–0. There were 46,000 people there. Dickson Etuhu scored our first, a header. I’d brought Dickson in from Norwich. We wanted him for his physical presence; he was a midfielder, good at set plays, defending and attacking. He’d been away at the African Cup of Nations with Nigeria. And then Daryl Murphy scored another, from an Andy Reid pass.

The win against Wigan was a good, tough, ugly result. But then we went and got beaten by Portsmouth. Kanu came on as a sub and I think some of our lads were being dead nice to him. They weren’t tackling him, or aggressive enough. We gave away a soft penalty. Defoe scored it. It was our tenth away defeat in a row. So much for having a go. We should have been more defensive.

We went to Derby, and drew 0–0. That was a poor result. Derby were at the bottom of the table and we needed the three points. Michael Chopra had a goal disallowed. The decision was a disgrace; he was two or three yards onside.

But referees do have the toughest job in the game. They must enjoy it!

I’d made a lot of changes since the start of the season. I hadn’t planned on making so many. But, although some of the players I’d brought in weren’t working out, it was progress. We were still adjusting to the demands of the Premiership. You have to
experiment a bit as you go; you don’t have a choice. We needed better, and bigger; we needed experience. The key is in knowing where to make the change, and when to leave something the way it is. That’s management. It’s cruel for those left out or moved, but it’s the nature of the game.

I put Liam Miller on the transfer list. He was late too often. I was sick of the excuses and I told him I’d had enough of it. His agent rang to tell me that Liam lived on a busy junction and it was very hard to get out.

I brought in Bill Beswick, the sports psychologist, just to mix it up a little bit – a different voice for the players. He came in a couple of days a week. He was there if any of the players or staff wanted to talk to him. Bill’s office was across from mine, and I noticed immediately that a lot of the staff were going to see him. I hadn’t anticipated that. So straightaway I thought, ‘I’ll have to get rid of them – they’re talking about me.’