Steven Gerrard: My Liverpool Story (13 page)

“I can honestly say, on my kids’ lives, that I have always backed every manager I have worked under.”

Getting Palmed Off

I have taken a few blows to my mouth and face over time, but that comes with wanting to win. Tackling has always been a big part of my game and really I have no right to get to the ball here. I’m helped by the fact that I have got long legs, but being at full stretch probably explains why I have picked up niggles in my groin. Sometimes I’ll get the tackle right, other times I’ll get it wrong and it’ll be a yellow card. This looks like I got it spot on against Tottenham’s Helder Postiga, although referee Uriah Rennie probably gave a foul!

Laying My Body on the Line Against the Gunners

Games against Arsenal are always physical and you have to be prepared to win the battle before you can win the match itself. I was trying my utmost to reach a pass here in the Arsenal penalty area, but the ball has evaded me. I’ve had some good moments against the London club over the years and the odd low point, but I love playing against them and I’ll always try my hardest to ensure that it is Liverpool who come away the happier of the two teams.

CAPTAINCY

When Gerard Houllier called me into his office one
day, I thought it was just going to be another of those seemingly daily chats about how I was doing. Then he dropped something of a bombshell.

‘Stevie, I want you to be captain. I think the time is right for you.’ For a split second, I was stunned and shocked. And then excited.

‘Great. Fantastic. Of course,’ I said. I had worn the armband before. The first time I was captain was in a League Cup tie against Southampton in November 2002 that we won 3–1 at Anfield. But this was different. This was for keeps. It was only after I left Gerard’s room that a new emotion washed over me: worry.

This was something I desperately wanted, but questions instantly popped into my head. Would I be any good as a captain? How would the lads react? It wasn’t as if my form had been sparkling around that time and there were other senior players who might have deserved that honour.

More importantly, how would Sami Hyypia, who was the current captain, react? From what I could see Sami was doing a good job. Ideally, you don’t want to receive the captaincy on account of it being taken off someone else. It is better if a player leaves a club or someone retires after a distinguished career. But Sami still had years ahead of him at Anfield and he had developed into a key player for us since arriving from Dutch club Willem II in 1999.

My respect for him, therefore, only increased as a result of the hand-over of the armband. I knew he was a top guy, but he went up in my estimation afterwards. Not once did he sulk, not once did he make life difficult for me and not once did he let the disappointment he must have felt show. Sami made a decision just to get on with things and he can rightly be described as an Anfield legend.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I walked out for the first time as Liverpool’s permanent skipper in a UEFA Cup tie against Olympic Ljubljana on October 15, 2003. It wasn’t a bad start either: we won 3–0. My life changed again with the armband on. I went from being a normal player to Liverpool captain at the age of 23.

Looking back, maybe it came too soon and I was too young. Usually captains are aged 25 and over, and coming into their peak years. But one of Gerard’s motives for giving it to me at such a young age was that he wanted me to mature that bit quicker because he wanted me to reach my potential. He wanted me to realise the opportunity I had in front of me.

When you are 23 and a Liverpool player, you can still get away with going to certain places and doing certain things. You are under the microscope, but it is not as intense. When you are 23 and you are the Liverpool captain, the responsibility is greater again. You can’t do the things some of your team-mates are doing. Yes, I had to make more sacrifices, but any sacrifice in the world is worth it when you are the captain of Liverpool Football Club, the club you love. I learnt an awful lot by being made captain so young. I grew up.

People think I am a quiet captain, but I don’t see it like that. It is just that I would never ever stitch one of my team-mates up in front of the media or the public. What image is it going to create if I start shouting at a young kid in front of 40,000 fans or in front of 25 members of the press, who are then going to write about it?

Of course, there are times in matches when the cameras or the fans will catch me shouting at someone. And my team-mates shout at me, believe me. That is all acceptable. Sometimes the player next to you needs shouting at to tell them they have done something brilliant. Sometimes you need to shout at them to tell them not to make that mistake again. But if you are on someone’s back and verbally bullying them, then that is not the right way to lead a team. I won’t do that, but have you ever known a Liverpool player to come out and say that I am quiet in the dressing room? That just isn’t the case. I prefer to say the right things at the right times. In football, there are plenty of players who make a lot of noise but not much sense comes out of their mouth.

But the most important aspect of being a captain, for me, and I don’t care what anyone says, is how you play yourself. It is not how noisy you are or what you say. It is about what you do. If you are a senior player in the dressing room, then usually the less senior players in there will watch you. That is the most important thing. It is not simply 3 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon when a captain comes into his own. Training that week is just as important and the entire build-up to the game. For example, if the team gets picked on a Thursday and Jay Spearing is playing, I will text him or speak to him and just point out a few things for him to expect in a certain game.

Jay’s a great lad. Someone who is still making his way in the game and willing to take on board any advice. I will do it in a quiet way – one-on-one – not wanting people to think I am this noisy captain, roaring in front of people on the Sky cameras. For me, that is the wrong thing to do.

Gerard appointed me because he liked the things that I was doing, but I have learnt from some of the other captains I have played under. I liked Michael Owen’s demeanour on the occasions he had the armband on. He was never in your face, ranting and raving, but he preferred to show he was right up for it by going out and scoring a couple. Leading by example.

David Beckham is another captain I hold in high regard. He never said too much in the England dressing room, but when he spoke it was sensible and constructive and, best of all, he went out and performed at a consistent level for the vast majority of his career.

“My life changed again with the armband on.”

The Armband That Means So Much

My life as a Liverpool player changed for the better on October 15, 2003. That was the first time I was officially Liverpool’s captain for a match. We played Olympic Ljubljana in the UEFA Cup at Anfield and won 3–0 with Anthony Le Tallec, Emile Heskey and Harry Kewell scoring. It was a proud, proud day. From that moment on, the way I was viewed and the responsibility I had altered. Team-mates, managers and fans look to the captain to get results and to pull the team through when times are tough. I always prided myself on doing that even without the armband, but now I realised I had to step up another level. I was even more of a role model. It remains one of the best days of my life.

Fully Committed

It is easy to see just how much winning means to players. I’m desperately trying to get the ball on target and the Fulham defenders are doing everything in their power to protect their goal.

Louis Saha is the Fulham player nearest to me and my Liverpool team-mates Emile Heskey and Igor Biscan are looking to get on the end of any ricochets in and around the penalty area. You make a run into the penalty box and 9 times out of 10 you don’t get the rub of the green. But you have to keep on going and eventually it will turn for you.

Pass Percentage

I often take risks with my passing. That is just how I play. Nowadays you get statistical analysis of how many passes players attempt, how many are completed and a pass completion percentage. If I am being honest, I don’t take too much notice of them. The figures don’t properly differentiate between a pass that I’m trying to squeeze through the eye of a needle and the safe ball an opponent will play to a team-mate five yards away. I’d rather have a pass completion rate of 73%, but lay on two goals, than make 90% of passes to someone standing within touching distance.