How NOT to be a Football Millionaire - Keith Gillespie My Autobiography

HOW
NOT
TO BE A FOOTBALL MILLIONAIRE
By Keith Gillespie with Daniel McDonnell

Copyright: Keith Gillespie

Published by Trinity Mirror Sport Media
Executive Editor: Ken Rogers
Senior Editor: Steve Hanrahan
Editor: Paul Dove
Senior Art Editor: Rick Cooke
Production: Alan Jewell, Adam Oldfield, Gary Gilliland, James Cleary
Design: Colin Harrison, Jamie Dunmore, Adam Oldfield

First Edition
Published in Great Britain in 2013.
Published and produced by: Trinity Mirror Sport Media,
PO Box 48, Old Hall Street, Liverpool L69 3EB.

ISBN: 9781908319418

Photographic acknowledgements:
Keith Gillespie personal collection,
Trinity Mirror (Daily Mirror, Newcastle Journal & Evening Chronicle)
PA Photos, INPHO Photos, Tony Woolliscroft

With thanks to Phil Munnelly and Guy Rose

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission in writing of the copyright holders, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent publisher.

To Mum, Dad, Claire, Angela, Heather,
Madison, Lexie and Nico

I

Acknowledgements

MY family have shared in my trials and tribulations and I cannot stress enough how grateful I am for their continued support.

Thanks to Mum and Dad for being there through the ups and downs, especially when the downs were more frequent. It meant a lot to have you there whatever happened. Angela and Heather are great sisters and great friends, and deserve all the happiness in the world with Davy, Stephen and the kids.

Claire Munn only came into my life as I started working on this project so, while she might only feature in the latter chapters of this book, I know she is going to be a huge part of the years ahead. Without Claire’s support and love, I wouldn’t have been able to open up and become a better person. I don’t know where I would be without her.

Madison, Lexie and Nico are the three best things to ever happen to me. Every day is a joy and I look forward to watching you grow. You are my everything.

I will always be eternally grateful to Eddie Coulter, the great Manchester United scout, who passed away in 2011. Without his backing, I may never have got the chance to spend time at such a wonderful club.

My grandad Bob was a constant presence on the sidelines in my early years and I miss him dearly. I should also mention the living legend, Joe Kincaid, ‘Mr St Andrews’ who gave me an opportunity at a great club to start my journey.

Like football, putting a book together is a team game and there are plenty of people I need to thank. Without the perseverance, help and support of Phil Munnelly this book simply wouldn’t have happened. As an agent, he is a one-off. Some agents desert a player when he’s of no value to them anymore, but Phil continually places his client first and has become a great friend.

Thanks to Daniel McDonnell for his hard work and graft in putting my thoughts on paper. We’ve spent many, many hours together but it’s been easy for me because of the rapport we struck up; I’ll always appreciate it.

Caroline Rhatigan has helped me in the PR department in recent years and was the key player in bringing me to Longford Town which has given me purpose for the last few seasons. My thanks also to the players, management, officials and fans of the club for their support.

Sarah Munnelly was instrumental in lining up the publisher for the book when we sought to get the project off the ground, and thanks also to Guy Rose from Futerman/Rose Associates for his assistance and Paul Dove and the staff at Trinity Mirror for their guidance in the final months.

Keith Gillespie, September, 2013

WHEN I first met Keith to discuss working together on the book, I was a little apprehensive.

My view was that there are too many football autobiographies where the subject’s primary goal appears to be crafting the image of themselves they would like the world to see rather than providing an actual insight into who they are. Within a minute of speaking to Keith, I was reassured. He listed examples of books that he disliked for that reason and stressed that he was keen to do things differently and portray the reality of life as a professional footballer, even if the truth isn’t always flattering.

When we started plotting a way through his eventful career, I didn’t realise there were still a lot of things going on with his life that any man would struggle to deal with. They are reflected in the final chapters, particularly with regard to the impact of financial setbacks on his day to day well-being. I respect his honesty in opening up on a difficult subject. I hope it encourages others to do the same. Pride should never be an obstacle.

It’s taken us a while to finish the story and I must thank my sports editor David Courtney and the staff at the Irish Independent who allowed me to say yes when the opportunity arose. I’m also indebted to a variety of journalists who covered various stages of Keith’s career and pointed me in the right direction when I needed help; if I start listing them I’m afraid I’ll forget someone. Paul Dove and the staff of Trinity Mirror have done a thoroughly professional job, and cheers also to Barry Landy for the assistance with the transcribing. Thanks and apologies are also due to my parents Derek and Anne and the unfortunate friends who didn’t always get a short answer when they asked how things were going, especially the Stateside contingent who had to put up with my ‘writing visits’; I promise I’ll stop talking about it now.

Phil Munnelly and Caroline got me involved with the project and I’m grateful you made the call. We’ve had plenty of laughs along the way and your hospitality is appreciated. The research was made easier by the scrapbooks and newspaper cuttings which his mother, Beatrice, has studiously maintained, aided by Keith’s remarkable memory of the little details. It’s been a pleasure to help construct this story. I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

Daniel McDonnell, September, 2013

II

Prologue

THE phone is ringing. Number withheld.

It can run to voicemail, like most callers have for the past month. If the digits are unfamiliar, it’s probably something to do with the bundle of unopened letters gathering dust in the corner of the room.

I don’t like opening letters very much. Don’t like answering the phone to strangers either. But if they follow up with a few words after the tone, I listen.

“You have one new message,” says the automated voice that I know so well. I wait, and then a human takes over. A journalist, from the Belfast Telegraph.

“Keith, I’m just looking for your reaction to the news today...”

I stop listening, delete it and sit down on the couch So, this is it then. Finally, the day had arrived.

The main evening TV news confirms it. I flick over to find that my plight is the lead item. Clearly, October 1, 2010 is a slow day in Northern Ireland. The announcer reads in a sombre tone over a montage of clips from my career:

‘The news that football star Keith Gillespie had been declared bankrupt came in the High Court today.

‘An order was made against the former Manchester United and Newcastle United winger following a petition by HM Revenue and Customs Commissioners over a tax bill. The High Court document confirmed that the decision was taken on the basis of evidence from a solicitor from the petitioning creditor.

‘It said that Keith Robert Gillespie from Bangor was adjudged bankrupt on the 22 September. The statement also revealed that the official receiver had been appointed manager of his estate.

‘The 35-year-old spent much of his career in England, having also played for Blackburn Rovers, Leicester City and Sheffield United. He also won 86 caps for Northern Ireland. Mr Gillespie left Irish League side Glentoran in June after failing to agree terms.’

At least I’d warned Mum. On her last visit, she’d asked when I was going to deal with the stockpile of stuffed envelopes. I’ve always needed a kick up the arse to sort things out, and she is usually the instigator. But this problem is different.

Once it entered the legal realms, there could be no escaping the truth. Returning calls from accountants and solicitors serves no purpose. It isn’t going to change anything, so why bother?

I don’t have £137,000. Simple as that.

Another phone call. This time, from a number I do recognise. My agent, Phil Munnelly.

“What the fuck is going on, Keith?”

He’d heard the news on the radio.

I should have given Phil the heads-up. We’re good friends, we speak often. He’s bollocking me for keeping him out of the loop, and I struggle to explain why. Maybe I was embarrassed. Maybe I didn’t want the hassle.

He’s annoyed. By now, he’s aware of the quirks of his client. My trademark response to a crisis is to say nothing and hope that it goes away. Decide there’s nothing to worry about, and press on with things.

But he expected more of me this time. Phil knew I was in trouble. After all, I’ve been without a club for over three months. He just didn’t realise the full extent of it

I apologise to Phil and hang up.

Certainly, I’ve had better days.

Part of me hoped that nobody would notice. Other former Premier League footballers had gone through bankruptcy, and their shame slipped under the radar. I should have known it would be different in Northern Ireland. Big fish, small pond.

I pick up the phone one last time before switching it off and call my brother-in-law, Davy, to check that the usual team is in place for the following night’s table quiz down in our local pub.

“Are you on for it?” he said.

“I’ll be there.”

I don’t know if anyone is surprised when I walk through the doors of the Groomsport Inn, but nothing was going to stop me. My face might have been plastered all over that day’s papers, but I had a lifetime’s practice of dealing with controversy. Another smidgeon wasn’t going to hurt. In my mind, I’ve experienced far worse than this.

I anticipate a few comments but the teasing is gentle. Heads turn in my direction when one of the boys asks whose round it is. “Well, I’m skint lads...” Cue loud laughter.

They know me well enough to leave it there, and change the subject. We have a quiz to win.

I’ll deal with this my own way. Look in the mirror, face the day. Get over it, and get on with it.

It’s an attitude that has a shelf-life.