Tässä ihan mukavaa luettavaa nimimerkiltä "allygold" napattuna Spurs Odyssey -palstalta:
It’s not often that work throws up something that involves Spurs - let alone something so topical. My editor informed me that some ex-footballer called Alan Mullery was signing copies of his autobiography at our local Waterstone’s and it was my job to grab a few words from him.
If fate had a face, it would surely have been grinning like a Cheshire cat. Last night, I was screaming like a delirious schoolgirl from the lofty climbs of the Paxton upper as Robbie Keane drilled the ball home. The morning after the return of European football, I was being asked to interview the Lilywhite captain who lifted the very first Uefa Cup.
To the majority of younger Spurs fans Alan Mullery is the bloke who looks like everyone’s uncle. He sporadically pops up on Sky Sports News wearing 1980s glasses. You know, the kind your parents made you wear as a kid that covered the majority of your upper face, with lenses thick enough to fry screaming ants on a sunny day. If there’s a breaking Spurs story, they’ll wheel out Alan on a Hannibal Lecter-style upright gurney to comment on the situation.
That’s how I saw Mullers until I read Hunter Davies’ The Glory Game a couple of years ago. Among the pages, I found that this ageing pundit had once been a player who graced the Lane with style and passion and played an integral part in bring copious amounts of trophies to the club.
He’d endured the mother of all seasons that campaign in 1971/2. The club’s captain, with his FA Cup and League Cup winner’s medals on his mantelpiece, had struggled throughout the early months of the season with stomach pains. They seemed to be taking an eternity to shake off. The physios couldn’t find a solution. The problem was his pelvic muscles but nothing seemed to help.
Eventually after a chat with Everton’s Alan Ball, who’d suffered the same injury, the answer was found to be six weeks total rest. At the end of that lay-off, Mullers attempted a comeback only to suffer a relapse in training. He had to start all over again. It would eventually take four months out of the game until he was ready to return.
However, the young Phil Holder had broken into the midfield so impressively in his absence that Bill Nicholson told Mullery he wouldn’t be able to walk back into the side and had be content with the reserves. This was the club captain. Can you imagine Ledley King losing his place with two months left of the season to Leigh Mills in an era with only one substitute?
Desperate to play first team football and show he was worthy of his place in the eleven, Mullery agreed to drop down a division on loan to his first club Fulham. It was a brave move and many in the game believed it would spell the end of his Tottenham career. After a month of misery in the lower league, Mullery received a phone call. It was Bill Nick. Spurs had a fixture pile-up and a rather important UEFA Cup semi-final against AC Milan and the manager needed his captain back.
His run coincided with a return to form for the team and the rest is history. The cover of Davies’ book shows Mullery astride the shoulders of his team-mates, cradling the precious trophy, after the final’s second-leg in which he scored the crucial goal. As Davies said: “Mullery’s rise and fall and resurrection is a morality tale for all footballers.”
So it was with that background in mind, I stepped with a rather increased heart rate through the doors of the book shop. There at a table was that legendary captain, with a queue of fans waiting for his moniker to adorn their copy of his book. After what seemed like hours, the waiting crowds drifted away happy and I was ushered over for my five minutes.
After the introductions, I decided to start off with a bit of an indirect compliment, asking what he thought of the blandness of recent autobiographies from youngsters such as Frank, Wayne, Rio and Co.
He replied: “They’re so young, aren’t they? Have they got anything to tell people yet? I mean I’ve waited until now, with 50 years or so of football involvement before bringing this out. I’ve got lots of tales to tell and I think that’s what an autobiography should be about - about life as well as what you do during your training sessions and who eats what.
“I mean I’ve got stories from before these guys were born, when you had to play with a leather ball that weighed a ton. You had to run around, tackling with hard toe caps on your boots. To be honest, I think today’s players would lucky to knock a leather ball further than the halfway line.”
He enjoyed that so next I asked who the best footballer he’d played alongside was.
He smiled before saying: “Lad, do you want to write a book? I’ve played alongside the likes of Johnny Haynes, George Cohen, Roy Bentley – the last captain to win the league for Chelsea before John Terry, then you’ve got Jimmy Greaves, Dave Mackay, Martin Chivers, Terry Venables, Bobby Charlton, Bobby Moore, Gordon Banks. I’ve also played against people like Eusebio and Pele.”
I took the point - he’d played with all of the best. Sensing he was perfectly positioned for a bit of a tougher question, I asked whether he felt the fact that he had written history as the first England player to get sent off in a full international had overshadowed his other 34 caps for his country - which included one particular game during the 1970 World Cup when it was said he marked Pele off the pitch.
He sighed and then said: “I don’t think so. I mean it was a stupid thing to do and if I could get the card rescinded from my life I would. The Yugoslavians were playing so dirty and they were kicking us all over the pitch, but I shouldn’t have retaliated and kicked out. It was disgraceful and undefendable.
“Whenever I speak at an event, they always announce me as ‘the first England player to get sent off’ and people laugh. I guess if it makes people laugh it can’t be that bad. The only time it annoys me is when an England player gets sent off nowadays and they bring out that bloody list with me sitting at the top.”
I’d read the Yugoslavians had been particularly vicious during the game with dirty tackles aplenty and I followed up by asking what midfielders in England he’d hated playing against.
He thought for a moment and answered: “I never liked playing against Johnny Giles from Leeds. If anyone was going for a 50-50 in a game against Leeds, you would look up first to see if it was Johnny. If it was you’d just step out the way. He had a real nasty streak on the pitch and was a right dirty bugger. He’d always leave a foot in somewhere.
“Before I joined Spurs, Dave Mackay was always a nightmare to match up against. He was so tough and played full-on for everything. Those breed of players just wouldn’t be playing today in the Premiership. The game doesn’t allow for those physical types of players anymore.”
During his playing days, Mullers had sworn he’d never become a manager. In true fickle football fashion, as soon as his playing days were over he swiftly made the transition to the dugout. He was very successful at Brighton, securing them two promotions and keeping them afloat in the top division, and took on the hot seat at a host of London clubs. Suddenly in 1997, he stopped. I asked if he missed the day-to-day involvement.
Without hesitation, he said: “Without a doubt. I would have liked to have continued being a manager. To be honest, I would love to still be doing it. Unfortunately, it was ultimately down to the chairmen at the clubs and they made the decision they didn’t want me. It didn’t work out for me towards the end, but I think I could still offer something to a football club.”
With my notepad full of enough quotes to keep my editor happy and time running out – his publicist was looking at me and his watch in equal measures – I thought it was time to get to Spurs. I mentioned I’d been at the game last night and wondered if he could see Ledley King emulating his 1972 feat next year by lifting the massive silver prize.
As soon as the talk turned to Tottenham a glint emerged in his eye, and he pulled his seat closer.
He said: “I was there too. The atmosphere was great. You could tell it was a European night. I think they can do it, but they have to play a lot better than they are at the moment. We have to get back to the Tottenham Hotspur that dominates and attacks. In my day, we had a prolific team of goalscorers. The goals came from everywhere with Martin Peters, Mike England, I chipped in with a few and of course you had Martin Chivers up front who was one of the best at hitting the back of the net.
“The talent is certainly there at White Hart Lane. To be fair to Martin Jol, he can’t put out his top side at the moment. Berbatov and Lennon are big losses. Lennon was a massive threat and the key to unlocking defensive teams. With him gone, the width has to come from the full backs and that’s never quite as effective.
“As for Berbatov, I watched him in his first few games and when he scored those first two goals against Birmingham. He’s something special. When he’s fit, he’ll score plenty. Tottenham certainly have the players and a good manager nowadays. We’ll have to wait and see.”
With his publicist gripping my arm a little too firmly, I threw in one last question. In a last minute Wikipedia background brush-up, I’d noticed someone had written that Mullers had once made a pilgrimage to The Vatican and asked for an audience with the Pope, only to be politely told to “sod off”.
I put it to him as I was hauled away. He laughed and shouted: “Ah, the internet. What a load of crap. Me and the Pope? I’ve been to Rome a few times, but the Pope? Try Jack Charlton, lad.”
With that I was hurled onto the pavement. I brushed the dirt off my trousers and walked back to my office. As I walked past Whsmith, I saw the Robbie Keane’s triumphant, roaring face on the back of a newspaper.
As I pressed on, I had a vision of Ledley King, resplendent in his all-white kit, sitting astride the shoulders of Robbo and Berbatov on the Hampden Park pitch as he held aloft our European prize. Mullers was the first captain to lift the famous trophy, isn’t it time for a King to reclaim his throne?
