Catch A Falling Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

£20 a week wages.
    One of the big differences these days is that they don’t seem to play seventeen-year-olds as much as they used to. They say they want to guard them, wrap them up in cotton wool like Moyes did with Rooney or Fergie did with Giggs. If Rooney is good enough to play for
England
, why was he often a sub for his club side, Everton? I find that attitude very strange. In my opinion if they’re good enough, they’re old enough.
    When I broke through there were many other youngsters all doing well for themselves: Francis Lee at
Bolton
, John Sissons at West Ham, Johnny Hollins at Chelsea, Georgie Armstrong at Arsenal, Jim Montgomery at
Sunderland
. There were probably more, many more but once they’d made their debut and made their mark, they weren’t pulled out or rested – they’d keep their place in the team. If they were the best player for that position then why not play them?
    Managers or directors say there’s too much pressure on these kids. Well I remember Howard Kendall, who until 2004 had been the youngest-ever player in a Cup Final – he didn’t seem to be under too much pressure that day. Bestie , what a talent he was at seventeen. Imagine if they’d kept him on the bench until he was twenty-two.
    I would have been as sick as the proverbial parrot if I was not being played in the team when I knew I was good enough. I have heard managers and directors say: “He’s got no experience.” How else are you going to gain experience without playing? You won’t get experience playing in the reserve team.
    Another magic moment for me was when I received my club blazer after a dozen games. I was so proud to wear that blazer with the City badge on. I’d wear it everywhere, not just on club visits or on arrival at the stadium... but everywhere! How many other teenagers could say their job was to play football for their favourite football club?
    So by this stage I’d done it, I was a first team pro and it was everything I had worked for in my formative years.
    I suppose my dad’s horrendous behaviour towards my mum, towards all of us really, was something of a motivational tool that I used to make it all the way. He was the one who said to me: “You’ll never make it as a footballer.” I’ll say it again, he was simply jealous of the love we had between us and he wanted to bring everyone down to his level. In the years to come I would feel immensely proud that I gave my mother moments of real pride because of what I’d done on the football field.
    To be honest, the crowd at City took to me right away and I was very thankful for that as well. When they see you are a local lad they are prepared to give you time to find your feet, time to make your mistakes.
    In those early days I’d walk home with the crowds back to Fallowfield and I’d talk to the supporters and get their point of view on how the game went. Okay, these fans haven’t played the game at a high level but you can learn the odd thing from them and they are entitled to their opinion because after all, they’re the ones who pay your wages, aren’t they?
    They’d say: “Why don’t you cross it earlier and deeper, why does so-and-so go to the near post when he should go to the far post, why don’t they pass it earlier instead of holding onto it?” It was amazing to hear such passion and then it would send shivers down your spine when you’d think that those punters were paying their hard-earned cash to see you entertain them.
    When I signed pro at City, not only did I get my blue blazer and grey flannels from the Co-op in
Manchester
but I was issued with a little rule book. It stated everything you could and everything you couldn’t do while under contract at the club.
    For instance, you couldn’t go out and ride a motorbike on your own, you couldn’t go out boozing after Wednesday night if the match was on a Saturday and you always had to be impeccably dressed on a match day. Shirt and tie always. That little rule