Mr Unbelievable. Chris Kamara
Steve Clarke, José’s assistant, was continually touching his ear and relaying information to the players immediately afterwards. I put two and two together and came up with a scam in which José was keeping touch with his staff via high-tech headsets. I wasn’t the only one with the same theory. It was also just the sort of clever stunt that José would pull. He denied the rumours when they were floated in the press the next day, but it looked so obvious. It was even suggested that José had been smuggled into the ground in a skip, to get as close to the action as possible, without being visible to UEFA. Nothing was actually proven and the club have never admitted it.
By luck I was at Chelsea the following weekend with Soccer AM, the Saturday-morning show then presented by Tim Lovejoy and Helen Chamberlain. José had given us permission to use the dressing-rooms for filming, as he always did, but I had a surprise up my sleeve. Chelsea’s kit man, Billy Blood, had given me an official woolly hat. I went into the home dugout to film a report, and the hat was pulled over my head but a mobile phone was stuck to the fabric with Sellotape, mimicking the antics from the week before. When our cameras went live, I could hardly stop laughing as I did an impression of Chelsea’s backroom staff that night. I heard José took it in good spirits, too.
Sadly, our relationship changed when Sky’s use of the action replay annoyed José. It happened during a Champions League game between Chelsea and Liverpool when Michael Essien clashed with Liverpool’s Dietmar Hamann at Stamford Bridge. It was an ugly tackle and it was shown over and over again on Sky Sports News. Once it was out there, UEFA had to act, and Essien was banned retrospectively. Because it was the Champions League, the incident was televised on different stations around the planet, but for some reason José personally blamed Sky for Essien’s suspension. He cooled noticeably whenever our cameras were on him and his attitude towards me changed. He wasn’t as friendly or welcoming as he had been in the past.
He was entitled to do whatever he wanted, of course, but the truth is, I was disappointed. José was a breath of fresh air when he first arrived from Porto and he was a joy to work with. I’ll be honest, I thought the sun shone out of his backside. The Michael Essien incident put a big, grey cloud in the way, which was a real shame.
A less imposing character was the former referee Paul Alcock. If that name rings bells it’s because he was the Premiership ref who was infamously pushed over by the former Sheffield Wednesday and West Ham hothead (and brilliant striker, it has to be said), Paolo Di Canio. It was a fiery situation. Paolo had been sent off during a game between Wednesday and Arsenal and he reacted to the red card by pushing the ref over. Alcock had barely been touched, but judging by his tumble, you’d have thought he’d been thumped by Mike Tyson. The fall was so exaggerated it was hilarious.
Our paths crossed for the first time several years later when Alcock was the referee’s assessor for an FA Cup tie between Southend and non-league Canvey Island. I was there as co-commentator for Sky Sports. It should have been a fairly run-of-the-mill evening, but trouble started as we waited for the teams to come out for the warm-up. I had spotted Alcock chatting to my colleague commentator Martin Tyler in the tunnel. When they’d finished I couldn’t help myself and I gave Alcock a little playful shove. I thought it was really funny, but he was stunned. He lost it.
‘You are a joke!’ he screamed, in a funny high-pitched squeal. ‘A chuffing disgrace’ (only he didn’t say ‘chuffing’).
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,