Mr Unbelievable
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Alcock then turned to John Smart, Sky’s senior floor manager (the grey-haired bloke you’ll always see at live games, sticking his thumb up on the touchline so the ref knows when to start a match). ‘I want him reported because that’s out of order,’ he shouted, not seeing the funny side. Thankfully, John ignored him and Alcock shuffled off to the referees’ room in a right strop. I turned to John, completely confused by the reaction.
‘What the hell was all that about?’ I asked. Before I could get an answer, the door to the referees’ room reopened. A red-faced Alcock emerged and kicked off again.
‘Four years ago that happened and I have been getting it in the neck ever since,’ he yelled, clearly upset.
I raised my hands in apology. ‘Paul, if it upset you, I’m sorry.’
‘Apology accepted,’ he said, sulking off to his room.
I couldn’t believe it. If anything, Alcock should have been dining out on the Di Canio incident. I obviously touched a raw nerve that night, but I’ll say one thing, he did well to stand on his feet in the Canvey tunnel because it was a fair push I gave him. Far harder than the one Di Canio dished out.
Paul Alcock wasn’t the only person I annoyed that night. Stan Collymore was also in the ground because he was hoping to make a comeback as a player-manager at Southend. Stan had played for Villa and Liverpool and was one hell of a striker in his day, but word from Roots Hall suggested a successful return to the game was unlikely. I told Sky Sports the sad news.
‘I’m not sure he is going to get the job,’ I said. ‘And it would be difficult for him to get back to being even half the player he was. Even then he looked bloated and overweight and I don’t know what Southend would be letting themselves in for.’
Stan was really annoyed by my analysis. My mobile bleeped shortly afterwards.
‘You’re out of order about my weight,’ read the text. ‘Thanks for your support. Stan.’
I sent a reply, telling Stan that I always said it as I saw it and that I hoped there were no hard feelings.
Gérard Houllier, the Liverpool boss between 1998 and 2004, was somebody I shared a prickly relationship with. It all started during Sheffield United’s memorable Worthington Cup run in 2003, when they were eventually tied with Liverpool in the semi-finals. In a lively first leg at Bramall Lane there was a spicy touchline spat with United gaffer Neil Warnock – a self-confessed trouble-starter – and Liverpool’s assistant manager (and Soccer Saturday panellist) Phil Thompson. Somehow, I got caught in the crossfire.
A row between those two was always on the cards. Neil is the first to admit that he thrives in an argument. Thommo, meanwhile, is a one-man office of the Liverpool Supporters’ Association (Sky Sports wing). Opposition fans used to sing ‘Sit down, Pinnochio’ whenever he raced out of the dugout, (a) because he liked to moan and (b) because he has a massive hooter.
My problems started when Gérard had given the details of the Liverpool line-up to Sky Sports commentator Ian Crocker in the build-up to the game. As I was the co-commentator for the game, Ian passed it on to me about four hours before the kick-off. This is common practice for companies who have the broadcasting rights for live matches. It’s also helpful inside information. It gives the commentators and support staff some time to prepare themselves on the players and tactics for the match. Importantly, there is also an agreement that this is confidential information which should never be revealed to the opposition manager.
When I saw Gérard by the side of the pitch before kick-off, I asked if I could go through Liverpool’s formation with him. He was as good as gold and willingly went through the team in detail. This is something I attempt to do with all the managers before a game. I want to be familiar with their systems, formations and teams. I don’t pretend to be a smart Alec. I would rather know exactly what a manager is thinking before the match. It also allows me to analyse any tactical changes as the game unfolds.
Despite Liverpool being the better team that night, two late goals from Michael Tonge meant Sheffield United took the home leg 2–1. Just before the final whistle Gérard and Thommo had a massive touchline bust-up with Warnock. It was all handbags stuff. Something must have been said, but it soured the mood between the two camps.
At the time, I remember, results weren’t good at Anfield. Gérard was being criticised for the team’s performance and the media were raising eyebrows at his work in the transfer market. It didn’t help that Soccer Saturday decided to put the boot in. The following weekend, the show ran an analytical piece on Liverpool, which basically asked the question, ‘Where are Liverpool going wrong?’
During the inquest, Gérard Houllier’s unsuccessful signings were listed on the screen (complete with transfer fees), and several angry fans were interviewed outside Anfield. To make matters worse, the programme was then watched by the Liverpool players and coaching staff as they ate their lunch before their evening game with Southampton.
Gérard was furious, but it was to get worse. I was then shown presenting Neil Warnock with the Scottish Mutual Performance of the Week Award in the United dressing-room immediately after the first-leg Worthington Cup win over Liverpool. The award was for their away win against Championship league leaders Portsmouth the week before. As the players celebrated their result over Liverpool, Neil and I were having a good laugh in front of the cameras. I was just doing my job and never considered for one minute this piece would cause me problems with anyone.
Gérard and Thommo didn’t see the funny side. They were still smarting from the Soccer Saturday criticism, especially Thommo, who had previously been a panellist and took the analysis very personally. He didn’t talk to Jeff for a while afterwards. They made up when he was invited back on to the show a year or so later, but at that point the Liverpool staff naturally put me and Neil Warnock together as mates.
Before the second leg at Anfield, Gérard refused to give details of the Liverpool team to Sky, and I heard I was getting the blame. Although I was advised against it, I went to look for him. I knew I’d find him by the side of the pitch, because that was always his pre-match ritual at Anfield. When I caught up with him I asked him what the problem was.
‘You are very friendly with Warnock,’ he said. ‘You will tell him my team line-up.’
Bearing in mind Neil Warnock was going to get the team shortly anyway (they have to be in one hour before kick-off, and this was 90 minutes before), I couldn’t really see the problem. Clearly he did.
‘I am very friendly with a lot of managers, Gérard,’ I said. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’ll go running to them with team news or bits of gossip. I’m employed by Sky, not Sheffield United. If I got the sack from Sky tomorrow do you really think Neil Warnock would give me a job just because I’ve given him your line-up and formation?’
He mulled it over for a bit. ‘I didn’t think about it like that,’ he said. He backed down and named his team for me, but it was a lesson. It emphasised how my role could be misinterpreted, or how my friendliness towards certain managers might be misconstrued. Without question, Gérard had overreacted. I was merely an innocent victim in the war of words between the two managers.
The good thing was that after winning the second leg and seeing off Sheffield United to reach the Worthington Cup final, Gérard invited me into the Anfield boot room, where I sat with him, Thommo and Sammy Lee. We had a drink and a laugh. As far as he was concerned the whole thing was forgotten. If only Paul Alcock could have been as forgiving.
UNBELIEVABLE, JEFF!
Three weeks after my disagreement with Gérard Houllier, Neil Warnock actually did offer me a job – he asked me to become part of the Bramall Lane coaching staff. Sheffield United were still in the FA Cup and on course for the play-off final. He thought my experience would be a valuable addition. After careful consideration and a visit to the bigwigs at Sky, I turned it down. I knew I could do the coaching job part time, but it meant I would have to give up commentating on the Championship games. I had to be impartial at Sky and that would have been impossible if I was working for Sheffield United. A missed opportunity? Maybe, but thank goodness Gérard Houllier hadn’t got wind of the job opportunity on offer. He really would have thought there was a conspiracy going on.
CHAPTER TWO ‘HE COULDN’T HIT A BARN DOOR WITH A BANJO!’
PORTSMOUTH 7 READING 4
FRATTON PARK, 29 SEPTEMBER 2007
When people ask me just how exciting it can get when I commentate on Soccer Saturday, I’ll tell them about the cracker between Pompey and Steve Coppell’s Reading in 2007. Harry Redknapp was in charge at Fratton Park and had built quite an entertaining team. Meanwhile, Coppell’s side played some tidy football, but nobody predicted the game was going to give us 11 goals.
Looking back, there probably could have been a goal with every attack. To watch it from the sidelines was great. To report on it was even better. I was screaming at producer Carly Bassett (daughter of the legendary manager Dave ‘Harry’ Bassett) in the studio, desperately trying to get back on air because so much was happening. The way the game was going, I could have talked for half the programme. It was the match I’d always dreamt of getting as a reporter.
It’s rare that I watch myself on the telly after a day on Soccer Saturday, but when my sons told me that the Sky reports – complete with me screaming into a microphone – were getting a lot of hits online at YouTube, I had to take a peek. It was weird to watch and I felt like a bit of a wally, in fact it made me side with those who reckon I can look a gibbering wreck at times, but if it has made for great TV viewing – unless you are a Reading fan, of course – then that’s fine by me.
There was more action to come when Reading got stuffed by Spurs 6–3 later on that season. I was there to cover that for Soccer Saturday as well, and by that time I reckon Steve Coppell must have had me marked as a curse. But for those of you not from the Madejski Stadium, here’s a re-run of the afternoon’s action from Portsmouth, which you will find most entertaining, unless you are a Reading fan of course – then skip to the next page.
THE SOCCER SATURDAY TICKER TAPE…
GOAL! 1–0
JEFF: ‘Goal at Portsmouth, which way has it gone? Chris Kamara…’
KAMMY: ‘He couldn’t hit the proverbial barn door last season, he didn’t know where the goals were, but he certainly knows where they are now. It’s Benjani for Portsmouth. It was so, so simple. Utaka took the ball down the left-hand side, looked up and saw Benjani in the middle and just put it on a plate for him inside the six-yard box. One-nil to Portsmouth.’
JEFF: ‘I almost bought that when I was down in Portsmouth last season. Saw it advertised. One barn door, barely used.’
GOAL! 2–0
KAMMY: ‘Unbelievable stuff here, Jeff, I’m telling you. I told you already last season, from a yard out, he couldn’t hit a barn door with a banjo. Now he is absolutely on fire. He just picked up the ball in midfield, he ran past Shorey, he ran past Ingimarsson, he shifted the ball to the side of his right foot [I gave a drop of the shoulders for the benefit of the viewers at home] and then, bang! Away from Marcus Hahnemann, into the bottom corner. What an absolute beauty. Two-nil.’
GOAL! 2–1
KAMMY: ‘It’s amazing, Jeff. They’ve scored. They’ve scored! It’s amazing really because it’s their first decent attack. The assistant referee on this far side has given the goal. He is certain that the ball from Rosenior crossed the line. I am not as certain as he is. I’ll have to see it again in the morning. Certainly Kitson and Hunt were trying to claim it and the assistant flagged when Rosenior shot. Two–one.’
GOAL! 2–2
KAMMY: ‘That goal has given Reading renewed vigour. They have come out in the second half and they are a different team totally. But David James, hang your head in shame. What are you doing? He has come chasing out his box for a ball that’s virtually in the right-back position, Jeff, and he doesn’t get there. Kitson does, James leaves the goal gaping and Kitson has enough quality in that left foot of his to ping it and guide it into the bottom corner of the net. Two–two.’
GOAL! 3–2
JEFF: ‘Fratton Park is not a place for people of a nervous disposition. Chris Kamara…’
KAMMY: ‘Jeff, unbelievable. I have to say, what a game this is. Magnificent. But who’d be a goalkeeper? Sylvain Distin goes down the left-hand side, crosses the ball into the box, Marcus Hahnemann comes out like Superman – only difference is, Superman gets the job done. Marcus Hahnemann doesn’t get the job done [cue: laughter in the studio]. Hermann Hreidarsson gets to the ball before him and the net is gaping. It’s in the back of the net off the top of his head. Three–two.’
MISSED PENALTY!
JEFF: ‘Penalty at Fratton Park. Chris Kamara!’
KAMMY: ‘Yeah! Thanks for coming to… I’ve been screaming at you for five minutes. Papa Bouba Diop [the penalty kick is taken behind me. Pompey keeper David James saves] … he’s given away a penalty, Nick Shorey has just taken it and what a save from David James. He’s made up for his error, he’s dived to the left-hand side, he’s grasped the ball, it’s bounced off his hands after he got hold of it, it squirmed away and there was Hreidarsson to kick it away. Papa Bouba Diop should be going for a bath right now because it was a ridiculous penalty, he just handled the ball for no reason. Still three–two.’
GOAL! 4–2
JEFF: ‘Only one word for it, Chris…’
KAMMY: ‘Well and truly buried the banjo. That’s four words, innit? [well, actually, that’s six]. Unbelievable, Jeff! One on one with Benjani and he just strolls past Marcus Hahnemann like he does it every week. There’s the hat-trick, there’s the ball in the bag and there’s the game in the bag for Pompey. Four–two.’
GOAL! 5–2
KAMMY: ‘They are absolutely running riot, Jeff! Reading have just thrown the towel in [I throw an imaginary towel to my left to emphasise the point. More laughter]. It’s Niko Kranjcar. Portsmouth were showboating down the right, the cross came in from Sean Davis and Kranjcar had no right to get the ball, but he did. Five–two.’
GOAL! 5–3
KAMMY: ‘Incredible. You have to admire their resilience because they have come back. It’s James Harper this time with a volley from 16 yards. Bang! David James didn’t see it. Five–three.’
GOAL! 6–3
JEFF: ‘There has been an … it is a rugby score now, isn’t it? Chris Kamara.’
KAMMY: ‘Unbelievable, Jeff. Ha Ha. It’s amazing. It’s raining goals, as they say. This time it’s Sean Davis with a speculative shot from 30 yards which took a slight deflection and sent Marcus Hahnemann the wrong way. What a game. What a game! Six–three.’
PENALTY!
KAMMY: ‘Benjani has gone off the pitch, he got a standing ovation. It is Sunny Muntari with the penalty…’
GOAL! 7–3
KAMMY: ‘And they have scored again, Portsmouth. There were five players fighting over the ball, Muntari got it first, Kranjcar was the player brought down. And I have lost the score, Jeff! What is it?’
GOAL! 7–4
JEFF: ‘There has been another – I know you’re going to find this hard to believe – there has been another goal at Fratton Park. Chris Kamara…’
KAMMY: ‘Jeff. Reading have scored, Nicky Shorey has just plundered one in from about 20 yards. It took a deflection off Sol Campbell. I can’t believe it. I honestly can’t believe it!’
JEFF: ‘Kammy is the only person who hasn’t scored. Referee Mark Halsey must have writer’s cramp by now. Goodness me. Phew. What a game.’
Indeed, what a game it was, one of those rare games that make me realise I should have stopped gaping out of that school window at the football pitches back in Middlesbrough and worked on my maths. Number of goals, not a clue. Number of penalties, not a clue. Number of times he should have hit a barn door with a banjo, not a clue. I own up: adding up isn’t my strong point and that game was the proof. As for hitting a barn door with a banjo, perhaps I should have studied a bit harder at English too, but hey, I’ve got the best job in the world and wouldn’t have got a better one if I’d got a degree or two.
CHAPTER THREE SMILE, YOU’RE ON KAMARACAM…
I’ll admit it, when I was first asked to take on the job as a touchline reporter in 1999, I was sceptical. Following my departure from managing Stoke City I flung myself into the media, working for anyone, anywhere who wanted to hire me. I loved my football and needed to be involved, and radio and TV was a good substitute for being on the touchline. Sky producer Jonty Whitehead invited me to work on a show called Soccer Extra with presenter Matt Lorenzo and journalist Brian Woolnough. I also became a regular guest on the Football League live games. I really enjoyed the media work and the lads at the studio seemed to think I was pretty good at it. One of the reporters at the time for Soccer Saturday was my good friend Rob McCaffrey, who convinced his producer Ian Condron to get me involved with Soccer Saturday.
At the time, the programme was finding its feet in terms of reputation and audience, and it was nothing like the cult phenomenon it is today. They also had a pretty heavyweight crew of pundits. The panel was a Who’s Who of top-class footballers: George Best was one of the greatest players in the world in his time, Frank McLintock won the double with Arsenal in 1971, Clive Allen scored 49 goals in one season for Spurs in 1987, and Rodney Marsh was a flair player who excited fans of England, QPR and Manchester City. The fact that they had plenty of medals and top-class experience between them meant that they could criticise the best players and teams in the Premiership.
Meanwhile, I’d had a decent playing career, including an international call-up for Sierra Leone – if I remember rightly they reversed the charges – and I had managed Bradford and Stoke. I had a lot of experience for sure, but my medal haul didn’t match the other guys. Condo had heard me on other programmes talking about the game and he just told me to go ahead and do more of the same for him. Things went really well. Besty was not just a legend but a really top bloke and Marshy kept you on your toes. I loved the odd Saturdays when I was with them, and I became a permanent fixture on the midweek shows which Jeff Stelling used to present in those days. After six months of me being a studio guest Condo decided he had a different role for me.
‘Kammy, I want you to put a camera on you during games,’ he said. ‘As you know we are not allowed to show the action live from the grounds on a Saturday afternoon for contractual reasons, but we want to film you watching the game with the fans in the background.’
I was unconvinced. ‘It won’t work,’ I told him. ‘People are not going to be interested in me watching a game from the stadium.’ Besides, I liked my stints in the studio. Working with Besty and Rodney was a dream come true. Even so, I decided to have a stab at it because it was a new format and nobody had ever tried it before. To my amazement, Sky didn’t help me out at all as regards how I should approach this new venture. I was thrown in at the deep end and shoved in front of a camera, which is generally how they operate. It’s very sink or swim – if you’re good at something, you survive. If you don’t, you’re out.
I know the Beeb sent Gary Lineker away for media training before he started hosting Match of the Day. He returned perfect and polished. There was none of that with me. Instead they just shoved me in front of a camera to see how it worked and, in the beginning, it didn’t. In fact, it looked to a lot of people as if we were filming in a garage with a cardboard cutout of the fans behind us. For some reason we kept getting our angles all wrong. I remember during the 1999–2000 season we did one practice show, but it took well over a month for us to get the look right.
Our first attempt took place at Cambridge, and thankfully it was not live. As I stood on the touchline, I was a nervous wreck. My shakes weren’t helped by the fact that I had managed only three hours’ sleep the night before because I’d been covering a match between Lazio and Chelsea in the Stadio Olympico for Radio 5 Live with Alan Green and Mike Ingham. I arrived back in London late and had to get up very early to make it to Cambridge. I soon discovered that this was an occupational hazard for a ground-hopping touchline reporter.
By the time I got to the post-match interviews, I was all over the place. My chat with Cambridge manager Roy McFarland was a complete disaster. He kept taking the mickey out of me because I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. ‘You don’t know what’s going on, do you, Kammy?’ he kept laughing as I faffed around with my microphone. I really wanted it to work as the recording was going to be shown the following weekend on Soccer Saturday and I knew people would all have opinions on how it went. So I ignored the wisecracks and ploughed on.
The following Saturday I sat in front of the TV to watch Jeff and the boys. I was devastated when it got to three o’clock and the piece had not got an airing. I thought, ‘That’s the end of that, then.’ I had told everyone I knew, and a few thousand that I didn’t know, that I was going to be on with this new format. I thought my TV career as a roving reporter was over. After a sleepless weekend I rang Condo, and he explained that Jeff and the boys had overrun with all their yakking and my piece would be shown the following week. Even better, it would become a regular fixture in the show.
After our second game I really did think that my Sky career was over for good. Oxford versus Walsall was my first live game. Before kick-off, because I was new to the job and unhappy with the camera angle we were giving back to Sky, I was driving rigger/cameraman Colin McDonald crazy! ‘This looks like we are in a garden shed,’ I grumbled. I can’t tell you what he mumbled back under his breath, but I think he wanted me to go forth and multiply. The crowd just looked a hazy mess behind me. With contact made back to the studio through my new headphones (an essential piece of equipment I am never without!), Condo told me, ‘You are going live in 30 seconds.’ That was the cue for a rival cameraman to make himself busy. He had arrived late and hurriedly began setting up his own gear, regardless of me, the keen new reporter getting ready for my big moment. He reckoned I had taken his regular spot. ‘I’ve been coming here for 20 years,’ he ranted. ‘I am here every week.’ He was not a happy man and was not going to bow down to anyone that day. But it didn’t matter to me – he was late, we were ready to roll and I was staying put. Still, I wasn’t expecting him to make an attempt at settling our differences on air! As I went live, he walked across in front of me and the camera, momentarily blacking out the screen for the viewers at home and in the studio. Then, just to make his point, he tried to walk back again, but this time I was ready for him. I put out my left arm to keep him at bay as I spoke to the cameras, but there was clearly a struggle going on. God knows what the viewers at home must have thought. In the studio, Jeff looked pretty surprised, but I put his mind at rest.