Steven Gerrard: My Liverpool Story (28 page)

Bring it on! When I was younger I didn’t like all the abuse, but now I think it helps my performances. You can shout what you want – and there are a lot of players who get verbals at Anfield – but I am going to try my hardest to shut you up either by scoring or setting up a team-mate. Ironically, the worse the abuse the better you are probably playing. It is part and parcel of football. I just think it is wrong when the supporters throw objects at players.

Face to Face with Fernando Again

This was the day I hoped I would never see. Fernando was such a massive player for Liverpool and a massive influence on my own game that seeing him leave was hard. Watching him go to Chelsea was even harder. In some respects, he will argue that the move he made has been justified. He was part of Chelsea’s Champions League and FA Cup winning squads, but I know it will hurt him not to have started either game. There were days during his time at Anfield when he was unplayable, when I knew he would score even before the game had kicked off. I hope he gets back to that standard, except, of course, for the games when I am staring across the pitch at him.

Free Wheelers

The facilities at Melwood are first class and they cater for a player’s every need there. Gerard Houllier deserves a lot of credit for this because he recognised the necessity to create a new state-of-the-art facility on the complex. The old Melwood was a few dressing rooms, a small gym and a canteen. Before training sometimes, we will go on the exercise bikes just to warm up our muscles and it’s good to get everyone together. There are a lot more British players at the club now and that can help team spirit, although ultimately it is down to how good you are not where you come from. Carra’s leading the banter here as Andy Carroll, Joe Cole and I look on. No change there then.

A Face in the Crowd

I was injured for the end of the 2010–11 season, but decided to attend the final game of the campaign away at Aston Villa. Basically, I was a fan for a day. Carra had done it a few years ago and I’d had a few letters saying I should go to an away game. It was an eye-opener for me to get in among the supporters. I think for a young player in our squad, or maybe one of the foreign lads, to have a day like that would really help them.

Why not? The fans absolutely adore the players. The players get so much support from the fans, so I think for a player to give up a day, mix with the fans and give a little back . . . well, there’s no harm in that. Yes, there was a bit of banter flying around. Stuff like,‘You won’t get back in the team, Stevie,’ and ‘You’ve got a fight on next season, Gerrard, to get past Lucas and Spearo (Jay Spearing).’ I think it was all good natured!

A BRACE OF CUP FINALS. . .
BUT KING KENNY DEPARTS

My mobile phone rang and Kenny’s name came up
on the screen. I was half expecting what he was going to say, but it remains one of the saddest conversations I’ve had. After leading Liverpool to two Cup Finals, winning the Carling Cup, I genuinely thought that Kenny would be in charge for the start of the new season. When Kenny went with Steve Clarke, his assistant, to Boston to see the club’s owners after the final game of the season, I thought it would be to discuss the plans for the new campaign and transfer budgets. But when he flew home without any assurances, I feared what was coming.

I think Kenny deserved more time, but football is a cut-throat business. Kenny, more than anyone, knows that eighth place is not good enough for Liverpool Football Club, but that league position was false.

I don’t look for excuses. Every club can say ‘what if’ about their season. What if Manchester United hadn’t conceded a late goal at home to Everton in that 4–4 draw? They would be champions. You have to deal with the set-backs you endure. Having said that, if you watched Liverpool from the start through to the finish of last season, there was no way that we were the eighth best team in the Premier League. We were far better than that and didn’t deserve to finish there. I genuinely feel that if we went into the final couple of games with a chance of still qualifying for the Champions League that would have been more representative of how we played. I think we hit the woodwork 33 times – we couldn’t do that again if we tried – and missed numerous other gilt-edged chances, drawing too many games at Anfield in the process. I still believe in this team and we are due the rub of the green.

Also, the fact we reached two Cup Finals shows there are good players at this club. You don’t beat Chelsea and Manchester City en route to lifting the Carling Cup if your team is rubbish. And when you come within a yard, less than that, of keeping your hopes alive in the FA Cup Final as well, then that shows your team-mates don’t lack heart and character.

The Carling Cup often gets dismissed as meaningless, but you cannot underestimate its importance to Liverpool last season.

Reaching the final allowed us to dream again and winning the trophy ended a six-year barren spell without silverware for the club. That is too long for Liverpool FC.

Meeting Cardiff City at Wembley was a landmark day for the Gerrards, but one that would ultimately end in both joy and despair. My cousin, Anthony, has forged a great career for himself since finding it difficult to make progress at Everton, and he can be proud of what he has done. He’s younger than me, but I am quite close to him. I can remember, growing up, we’d play together at Ironside Road where my grandparents lived.

As always with Liverpool, we made life difficult for ourselves during the game. I think the occasion got to some of our players and we also found ourselves trying too hard, myself included.

What I thought would be a comfortable success, and I mean no disrespect to Cardiff by that, turned into a slog. We fell behind, hauled ourselves level through Martin Skrtel, took the lead thanks to Dirk Kuyt, and then conceded at the death, which lead to extra time and then penalties.

I should have known what was coming. Birmingham in 2001, AC Milan 2005, West Ham 2006, if we can find the hard way to do something, we will. The shoot-out did not start well. I was first up and saw my attempt well saved by Tom Heaton, the Cardiff goalkeeper. The walk back to the half-way line was tortuous. Every step of the way, I was thinking: ‘I’ve just lost us the Cup.’

I wasn’t on my own. Charlie Adam’s effort went high and wide, while for Cardiff, Kenny Miller and Rudy Gestede were also off target. That meant that when Anthony stepped forward to take his kick, he had to succeed.

Instinctively, I celebrated when he dragged his shot just wide of Pepe Reina’s post. It was an important moment for Liverpool, but I was heartbroken for Anthony. At times like that whatever you say seems hollow. I sought him out as the party began around him and looked to console him, but words are useless in those situations. Instead, I waited until the next day to speak to him properly. I know what he was going through. When you score an own goal in the last minutes of a Cup Final against a big team and one of your biggest rivals, there is no place to hide.

The other disappointment of that day for me was that the success did not become the platform that it should have been for the rest of the season. I still believe it was an important milestone in the development of this team, but we wasted the opportunity to prove that immediately.

Our league form remained frustratingly inconsistent and, while the FA Cup left me dreaming of a Cup double, especially when we beat Everton in the semi-final at Wembley, that was to end in failure.

It still nags away at me as to why, as a team, we didn’t turn up for the first hour of the final against Chelsea. There is no explanation for it. We knew what was at stake. It was inconceivable that we should be so insipid.

When we eventually woke up, of course, we pushed Chelsea close and the debate about whether Andy Carroll’s header crossed the line or not raged afterwards. If we had come back to 2–2 and forced extra time, I am sure we would have won. Roberto di Matteo’s side were out on their feet at that point.

Yet the manner of our comeback left me only with regrets. If only we had started like we had finished. If only: those two small words are the worst for any footballer.