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Thank you for visiting! est189 will soon be closing its doors (do forums have doors?) please visit the following thread - (to wail & cry perhaps?)
https://www.est1892.co.uk/forums/showthread.php?p=4002484#post4002484
Thanjk you.
Paul.S
Among all of the former players asked to consider the scale of the achievement when Liverpool clinched the league title for the first time in 30 years, some of the most fascinating reaction came from Graeme Souness.
While Kenny Dalglish started to well up as he wore a red scarf for his TV interviews and Phil Thompson invited some of his family members to join the party in front of the cameras, Souness spoke about the club he once captained and managed like it was a relative he still cares about deeply even though he knows the relationship isn’t what it once was.
Quietly, Souness appeared chuffed to bits – the most satisfied of them all. Apparently, he stayed up until the small hours once his TV commitments had finished, celebrating with wife Karen in the garden of their home in Poole, Dorset – somewhat typically over a bottle or two of champagne.
When he became a European Cup-winning captain in 1984 by delivering a gladiatorial performance against Roma in their own stadium, one of his best friends in the team was Michael Robinson, the Blackpool-raised centre-forward turned Spanish television legend.
Souness’ feelings after Chelsea beat Manchester City to confirm Liverpool as champions intensified when he thought about what Robinson would think of it, remembering that his last game in a commentary box before his death from cancer in late April had been at his beloved Anfield. Robinson, a huge Liverpool supporter, would have taken great pleasure from witnessing them secure their 19th league title.
Souness had been one of the first to speak about his friend when he passed away eight weeks earlier, and by the end of one interview was unable to find any more words after mentioning the impact Robinson’s loss would have on his family.
It would be understandable if a very personal sense of relief washed over Souness across those early hours of June 26 as well, because he knows that despite his contribution towards Liverpool’s greatness during the 1970s and 1980s, he is the person most associated with their subsequent decline.
There will still be conversations about where it went wrong for a club who were the most dominant in England before he succeeded Dalglish in April 1991 but an end to that story means the frequency of those exchanges will probably reduce now.
Souness’ trajectory acts as a warning to those wonderful players who believe they can go back to where they are loved and become wonderful managers as well. Steven Gerrard is conscious of falling down a similar hole should he decide to follow the same path. Like Souness, he is a legendary Liverpool captain who has taken his first senior managerial steps at Rangers, a club who have suffered from years of drastic underachievement.
It sits uncomfortably with Gerrard that across his last 13 years in the game, he has won just one trophy – the League Cup in 2012. By comparison, Souness’ career from the point he joined Liverpool as a player in 1978 to the point he returned as their manager 13 years later was a period of almost unbroken personal success.
Gerrard should also realise that Souness’ experiences did not prepare him suitably for the challenges that lay ahead when he took the job. Perhaps his aura and sense of invincibility ended up undermining him. Quickly, his legacy as a Liverpool player would mean very little to so many.
On reflection, it was quite a thing for a Catholic boy to be left in front of the TV watching a review of the Scottish Premier Division’s 1989-90 season. The videotape box had Souness’ moustache plastered on the front and it had been a campaign in which Rangers won their third title under him in four years, finishing a whopping 17 points (at a time when it was still only two points for a win) ahead of Celtic, who were way down in a miserable fifth position.
My father had been a season ticket holder at Anfield and Souness was his hero – ahead of even Dalglish. When Souness became Liverpool manager, I was seven years old and trusted my dad when he told me the club was in safe hands.
Even after everything that happened, meeting him for the first time was exciting and daunting. Souness was sitting alone in a darkened corner, legs crossed, when I walked into the Sky Sports studio at Anfield ahead of what would be a win over Manchester United in September 2008.
There was a feeling of incarceration in that working space because presenter Richard Keys and lead pundit Andy Gray were babbling away and Souness gave me the impression he’d rather be elsewhere, so he could talk properly about his feelings. A shard of light cut across his face and I ended up comparing him to a prisoner of war in a movie. Even with his determination not to be the centre of attention, a natural magnetism pulled you in his direction.
He was a formidable-looking figure, though smaller than you imagine considering his presence on the pitch and on screen. A bit of a contradiction. Robinson had once told me Souness was “to this day, still trying very hard not to be this lovely, cuddly person when, really, he is”.
Souness spoke gently, with that smooth Edinburgh accent of his. He was respectful, persuasive and regretful. He admitted to me that returning to Anfield as an opposition manager, as he did with Southampton, Blackburn Rovers and Newcastle United, didn’t bother him because he was in combat mode.
Any other capacity, however, was different. He was left out by the club when reunions were organised. Team-mates who used to be friends had stopped keeping in touch. He didn’t always feel welcome, but that was ultimately his fault he concluded, wishing he could turn the clock back and put it right.
Yet he was also smart enough to realise if he thought about that too much, it would eat him up. He’d never be able to lead a balanced life.
It was past 10pm when my phone started vibrating, five or six years later.
I was nervous about answering because of the name on the screen: SOUNESS.
I’d interviewed him again for a book I was writing about Liverpool during the 1990s, this time from an airport departure lounge in Edinburgh. I’d established by then he certainly wasn’t a nervous type because everything he said that afternoon was delivered with confidence.
Yet I think he was worried about the way some of it might look if his words got presented in a way with which they were not meant.
We had talked about everything that went wrong at Liverpool, starting with recruitment. That led on to the breakdown of his relationships with many of the senior players, the majority of whom had once been team-mates.
It was towards the end when we arrived at his decision to grant The Sun an interview about his triple heart bypass operation, one published on the third anniversary of Hillsborough. As the same newspaper had printed lies about the role of Liverpool supporters in the disaster, his reputation was shattered. Yet somehow, he clung on to his job for another 21 months.
“I’d just like to thank you for giving me an even crack,” he said.
This was not a conversation I expected to happen.
“Oh, er…” I replied, not really knowing what to say, wondering whether I had gone too easy on him.
The conclusion of the chapter about him went something along the lines of Liverpudlians probably being able to forgive him in time for failing as a manager but his association with The Sun gave that paper credibility at a time when grieving families were fighting to clear the names of lost loved ones.
Just typing out that sentence now makes me angry.
How could an intelligent man with an acute understanding of place make such a craven decision?
“I deserve all the criticism in the world, and you’ve done that,” he continued.
“But you’ve also been fair.”
There is a great line at the end of another passage of writing about Souness’ time as Liverpool manager in Brian Reade’s 2008 book, 43 Years With The Same Bird. Reade’s relationship with Souness represented many supporters from the city: revered as a player – one of the best that has ever been. But as a manager? He couldn’t wait for him to leave.
Reade had worked at the Liverpool Echo and wrote numerous columns about Souness’ suitability after what happened with The Sun. They would meet a few years later at an event, when Souness sidled up behind Reade and told him that he was the person who got him the sack. Reade replied straight away with something along the lines of, “No, Graeme. You did that all by yourself…”
Where did it all go wrong?
My dad was not alone in thinking he was the dream appointment. In Souness’ words, however, “I was blinded by my feelings for Liverpool”, despite having it good in Glasgow, where the pressure and expectation on him was rising but tempered because he knew he had the support of the chairman, David Murray, whom he socialised with most nights of the week in Edinburgh.
This prompted him to reject the chance to manage Liverpool twice before he finally relented, even though Murray attempted to keep him at Ibrox by offering him a blank contract where he could fill in the details himself. Murray warned him taking the Liverpool job would be a huge mistake. “I have to admit, he was right,” Souness told me.
He returned to Merseyside with further warnings from club secretary Peter Robinson and long-time youth development officer Tom Saunders about the scale of the rebuilding project waiting for him. He was inheriting an ageing squad and Robinson thought the only player capable of remaining in the team long term was a then 27-year-old John Barnes.
Souness was furious early in his reign when Chelsea’s Vinnie Jones desecrated the famous This is Anfield sign in the stadium tunnel by scribbling “Bothered” on it and, rather than seek retribution, some Liverpool players laughed it off. He quickly concluded that some had “lost their passion” for the club because of their demands in contract negotiations. Several knew the next deal under Souness might be their last and they also could see that wages were increasing at other clubs who were ploughing millions of pounds of new money from the advent of the Premier League into their squads.
Robinson used to lead such discussions and while there are some claims Souness insisted on taking that responsibility away from him because he wanted to control everything, he told me Robinson was happy to pass it on because he felt uncomfortable dealing with the spiralling sums of money.
For almost a quarter of a century, indeed, negotiation had been an outstanding feature of Robinson’s leadership. There had been a routine at Liverpool – a club notoriously tight with wages – where he would low-ball his offer before the manager would enter the room and promise to get Robinson to make a raise towards a figure where Liverpool’s administrator actually valued the player. This would make the player feel like he was winning and automatically increase his respect for his new boss. That routine was now broken and instead, players often left the room harbouring resentment towards Souness because he rarely, if ever, budged.
He called it his “first big mistake”, and he wishes he could have been more diplomatic but instead, he sold a raft of established players and suddenly was buying under pressure and needing new signings to fit in straight away. Though he admitted, “I should have been far cuter”, it was clear he also felt the young players brought in from other clubs by predecessor Dalglish were not good enough.
In so many ways, the decline at Liverpool had already started but nobody realised because the results were still encouraging. Yet Souness’ own record in the transfer market was poor. He considered Mark Wright, Michael Thomas, Rob Jones and David James to be good signings. Neil Ruddock, he thought, would have been in that category had he looked after himself.
Yet too many clearly did not work.
Jan Molby could tell Julian Dicks wasn’t a Liverpool player from the first training session, when he kept knocking long balls down the touchline for Barnes to chase. Paul Stewart and Nigel Clough never justified their big fees. In the foreign market, Souness bought Torben Piechnik and Istvan Kozma but passed on the opportunity to sign Peter Schmeichel, who had written a letter to him asking for a trial. When Michel Platini recommended he sign Eric Cantona and Souness did his research, he concluded he did not need another challenging personality in the dressing room because he was already fighting fires with Bruce Grobbelaar.
Away from the negotiating table, there was more resistance when Souness tried to change coaching methods, and this intensified when there was an injury crisis. Having played in Italy, he had seen the way football was going. This meant new diets and daily patterns. At Rangers, the players listened when he encouraged them to eat better and drink less. When a crate of low per cent alcohol was heaved onto the Liverpool bus for an away game in London, it was left at the next service station.
There had been a longstanding tradition at Liverpool where the players got changed at Anfield before travelling a couple of miles to Melwood by bus for training. This, Bill Shankly believed, helped foster camaraderie but Souness wanted a slicker operation more in keeping with the 21st century. For Liverpool to be competitive, Anfield – like Old Trafford – needed to capitalise on its history and potential profile as a tourist destination. “We couldn’t have buses going in and out of Anfield every day while fans milled about,” he concluded. Souness was also accused of ordering the destruction of the famous Boot Room, but he denied that. England was gearing up to stage Euro 96 and with Anfield hosting some of the tournament’s games, extra space was needed for media delegations from European countries.
The one decision Souness did regret “forever” was his deal with The Sun. “I don’t have a defence.”
There had been a history of heart problems in his family and he denies the stresses of the job triggered the need for a life-saving operation at the age of just 38. He was determined to push himself and get back to work but when he collapsed, he ended up spending 28 days in hospital rather than 10. It was during this period that he agreed to sell the story of his hospital ordeal to Mike Ellis, The Sun’s Merseyside reporter. Souness had seen Liverpool legends Ian Rush and Tommy Smith give interviews to that newspaper since Hillsborough without any fallout, while Ellis was a respected figure on the local patch amongst other players, who spoke to him regularly. Souness also argued that he had been in Glasgow and “wrapped up in Rangers” when Hillsborough happened and so did not appreciate the scale of the resentment in the city towards The Sun, though admitted “ignorance is no excuse”.
The story was due to be printed a week before the disaster’s anniversary but got pushed back. In the meantime, Ellis went on holiday and “would have advised the paper not to print it that day, there’s no doubt about it”, Souness said. Liverpool’s FA Cup semi-final replay against Portsmouth going to extra time on April 13 meant the story got pushed back again by 24 hours, from April 14 to April 15. “It looked terrible, me smiling and confident of a recovery on the same day a lot of people were still mourning.” The corny front-page headline accompanied by a picture of him kissing then-girlfriend Karen made it even worse: “Loverpool.”
Souness says he gave all of the proceeds from the interview to Alder Hey Children’s Hospital but “what I really should have done is resigned”. At the time, he was desperate to put right what he had got so dreadfully wrong, but this was made more challenging, he claimed, by the culture of reporting on Merseyside where journalists worked as a pack. This resulted in a collective anger at being left out of an exclusive story.
There were very few sympathetic voices in the column inches when the public tide turned against him. Souness did not look well as he sat looking on passively as his team beat Sunderland 2-0 at Wembley to win the FA Cup just under a month later – a bright spot in a horrid league season which did not improve the following year, when Liverpool were just three points above the relegation places in March.
Some supporters refused to attend matches again until Souness was gone but he remained until January 1994. He felt “ashamed” when he heard opposite number Russell Osman’s team talk in an adjoining room at the Moat House hotel before an FA Cup replay against second-tier Bristol City at Anfield. Osman called Liverpool “weak as piss” and sounded like he genuinely believed his team could cause an upset.
A few hours later, Brian Tinnion’s goal sent the visitors through.
Souness resigned before the weekend.
Another Souness feud involved Phil Thompson. Though privately, the latter especially has stressed the relationship will never truly heal, there have been small signs of improvement.
The pair were not in the same room but the thought of them appearing on the same television show and roughly appear on similar pages in any discussion would have been unimaginable up until a few years ago. Yet that is what happened on Sky after Liverpool clinched the title in June.
Meanwhile, the dynamic with the players Souness fell out with so dramatically has changed for the better. There is always a caveat when any of them mention him but it does seem that his willingness to admit mistakes has led some to open up about their own shortcomings.
There is recognition now that Souness had some of the right ideas, considering the way football has gone, but there is agreement that he went about it totally the wrong way. “He was an everything-at-once sort of fella, Graeme,” Steve McMahon told The Athletic in June. “If only he’d slowed down a bit…”
The most significant challenge around the theme of reconciliation, however, is with the Liverpool fans. It would be understandable if some found it impossible to forgive, especially when you consider court cases about Hillsborough are still happening 31 years after the disaster.
Last month, though, Souness was invited to talk for 20 minutes at an end of season meeting of the Merseyside branch of Liverpool’s supporters’ club, held on Zoom. He consistently referred to the club he used to represent with distinction as a player and less so as a manager as “we”, and the conversation flowed nicely, before finally arriving where it always does when Souness and Liverpool are concerned.
“If there’s one thing you could change about what you did as manager, Graeme…”
That was when he stuttered a bit, rephrasing his answer. “I should never have taken the job,” he replied straight away – reasoning that other opportunities to take over at Anfield would surely have come his way, given the sustained culture of success he’d helped create at Rangers. “I wish I’d said no to Liverpool in 1991.”
He could not bring himself to name the newspaper and the interview that shifted perceptions of him. “I made some mistakes,” he admitted. “One obvious one, a big one… I wish I could turn the clock back.”
Tom Keegan, one of the organisers of an event which involved more than 50 members, called Souness the greatest midfielder the club has ever had, “better even than Steven Gerrard.”
Souness laughed away at that description, but did not correct him.
That was when he promised the group he’d be delighted to speak again some time.
Not seen it mentioned on here, (and it's days old news) but pleased to see Coady get recognition by being called up to the England squad, hopefully he gets a cap.
The only gracious way to accept an insult is to ignore it; if you can't ignore it, top it; if you can't top it, laugh at it; if you can't laugh at it, it's probably deserved.
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