Amazing Carra interview
The invisible demon driving on a Liverpool hero
Jamie Carragher’s need to be Mr Perfect may not sit well at home at times, but he wouldn’t have it any other way, as Matthew Syed hears
It is the Monday after Liverpool’s victory against Bolton Wanderers last month. The Anfield club are third in the Barclays Premier League, riding high after two straight wins, and Jamie Carragher has an additional reason to be cheerful. He has just checked into the refurbished Savoy Hotel in London, a special treat for his wife Nicola, to celebrate the couple’s wedding anniversary.
But here’s the thing: Carragher is anxious. He cannot settle. A scene is being played out in his mind, over and over. A small mistake in the 90th minute of the match, which had no bearing on the result, is nagging away at him - and he cannot let it go. It is not only taking the edge off the day, it threatens to overshadow the international break.
“You could call it obsessive, but I have always agonised over my errors,” the 33-year-old says, sipping a glass of water in the lobby of the Savoy. “It’s strange, isn’t it? I have come down to London with my missus, have gone to watch a great show, Ghost, but I honestly feel that I don’t deserve it. My face hit the floor when the slip-up happened - and my wife immediately knew that our break wouldn’t be the same.
“I have been like that ever since I was a schoolboy. I remember playing a youth match at Anfield and, even though we won, I couldn’t celebrate because my performance was below-par. I have always wanted to play to absolute best, error-free. It is like an invisible demon, driving me to train harder, to go the extra mile, in practice sessions and in matches. That is just the way I am.”
Jonny Wilkinson has spoken of perfectionism as a blessing and curse, as have Sir Steve Redgrave and Martina Navratilova. They would doubtless relate to Carragher and his lifelong battle to reconcile his impossibly high standards with his own fallibility.
“Young players at the club say, ‘I have to be like Carra in training’ because they can see that I put in a shift in every session,” he says. “But why should I rest on my laurels just because I have been in the top flight for so long?
“I am always looking to up my game because I feel that I still have something to prove. Even today some Liverpool fans are asking questions about my age and how long I will last. The club has just signed a new centre back [Sebastián Coates], who will be knocking at the door. There is no room for complacency.”
There can be few more honest or eloquent footballers than Carragher. As the interview progresses, he discusses football in all its intricacy - tactics, statistics, training methods - as well as the players he has played with and against. But it is when probing his psyche, the mechanisms that make him tick, that he is at his most compelling.
When I approach the question of why he retired from international football he hardly breaks stride. “Being a squad player is not enough,” he says. “I live for the fight. That is why I got tired of going to World Cups and qualifying games without being a part of the team.
“I did an interview the other day because it was the ten-year anniversary of the 5-1 defeat of Germany and the journalist asked if it was the greatest game I had ever played for England. But how could it be when I only played for ten minutes as a sub? I am not going to take credit for that.”
He also pinpoints another reason for his ambivalence. “It is a funny thing, but playing for Liverpool has always meant more to me than playing for England,” he says. “That does not mean I am unpatriotic or do not care about my country. It just means that, when it comes to football, my pride in Liverpool exceeds my pride in England. It is not a conscious preference, but it does say a lot about me as a person.
“I was brought up in Bootle and my mum still lives in the same house. This is where I learnt to play football and learnt about life. The connection with my roots is not about location, it is about culture and values and millions of other things that are difficult to define. People sometimes wonder why I am quite a modest person, but the reason is simple. If you are flash and arrogant in Liverpool, you are quickly brought back down to earth. That is the way it is.”
Carragher’s umbilical link with Liverpool makes it unthinkable that he would leave the club he joined as a schoolboy (he had initially supported Everton when growing up before slowly and painfully switching allegiance). “My contract is up for renewal in two years, but I would not want to play for any other club,” he says. “Life is not just about money. There are other things, important things, that have a different kind of value. Anyone from Liverpool could tell you that.”
Although Carragher is fixated upon football, it would be unfair to characterise him as a one-dimensional person. Quite the reverse. When we discuss politics he offers a nuanced left-of-centre analysis of social problems (the conversation takes place three weeks after the riots). When we talk about family - he has two young children - he talks passionately about parenthood. To put it simply, he is absorbing company.
I ask Carragher what his plans are for when he does retire from football. “I sometimes fantasise about leaving the game altogether, just to get away from my obsession, but to be honest I love the game too much,” he says. “Management would be a great option, or possibly the media. I read things in the papers or see things on TV and the analysis is sometimes not strong enough.
“An article will say that a certain player or team is underperforming, but there is not enough depth to the argument. They don’t ask why a player is below-par or don’t analyse where a team is going wrong, tactically or psychologically. That is where an ex-player with a bit of nous could add something.”
One of the most striking things about Carragher is that, although he has played at the highest level for many years, his thirst to learn is insatiable. Indeed, this interview came about because Carragher had read my book Bounce, called The Times to obtain my number and phoned out of the blue to discuss its ideas. Needless to say, the conversation was long and probing.
“To understand high-level performance, it is no good just assuming that your own personal journey is the last word on the matter,” he says. “You need to look at the science, read about the experiences of other people and look at the statistics. I try to read as much as possible to get a stronger handle on the science of performance. It doesn’t just help you as a player, it also helps you as a leader in the dressing room.”
Liverpool’s performances have improved considerably since Kenny Dalglish took over as manager in January, something that has not merely had an impact upon Carragher’s hopes of finally claiming an elusive Premier League winner’s medal, but also his sense of self-worth.
“The team has definitely grown in confidence and that makes life, and not just football, a lot brighter,” he says. “When things are going badly, as they sometimes have at Liverpool in recent years, you just want to hide behind corners. You don’t want to see the fans because you know how important it is to them. You almost feel responsible for their happiness.
“People look to players like me and Stevie [Gerrard] to sort any problems out. I love the responsibility, and I would never hide from it, but it can sometimes weigh heavily.”
As Carragher gets up to leave with a firm handshake, it suddenly occurs to me of whom he reminds me. It is a grandiose comparison, perhaps, but, given his authenticity, passion, depth and, above all, his defining belief in football as an extension of community, it is a comparison that Liverpool fans would instantly recognise. “Carra” is a latter-day Shankly. There is no greater compliment.
source
Jamie Carragher’s need to be Mr Perfect may not sit well at home at times, but he wouldn’t have it any other way, as Matthew Syed hears
It is the Monday after Liverpool’s victory against Bolton Wanderers last month. The Anfield club are third in the Barclays Premier League, riding high after two straight wins, and Jamie Carragher has an additional reason to be cheerful. He has just checked into the refurbished Savoy Hotel in London, a special treat for his wife Nicola, to celebrate the couple’s wedding anniversary.
But here’s the thing: Carragher is anxious. He cannot settle. A scene is being played out in his mind, over and over. A small mistake in the 90th minute of the match, which had no bearing on the result, is nagging away at him - and he cannot let it go. It is not only taking the edge off the day, it threatens to overshadow the international break.
“You could call it obsessive, but I have always agonised over my errors,” the 33-year-old says, sipping a glass of water in the lobby of the Savoy. “It’s strange, isn’t it? I have come down to London with my missus, have gone to watch a great show, Ghost, but I honestly feel that I don’t deserve it. My face hit the floor when the slip-up happened - and my wife immediately knew that our break wouldn’t be the same.
“I have been like that ever since I was a schoolboy. I remember playing a youth match at Anfield and, even though we won, I couldn’t celebrate because my performance was below-par. I have always wanted to play to absolute best, error-free. It is like an invisible demon, driving me to train harder, to go the extra mile, in practice sessions and in matches. That is just the way I am.”
Jonny Wilkinson has spoken of perfectionism as a blessing and curse, as have Sir Steve Redgrave and Martina Navratilova. They would doubtless relate to Carragher and his lifelong battle to reconcile his impossibly high standards with his own fallibility.
“Young players at the club say, ‘I have to be like Carra in training’ because they can see that I put in a shift in every session,” he says. “But why should I rest on my laurels just because I have been in the top flight for so long?
“I am always looking to up my game because I feel that I still have something to prove. Even today some Liverpool fans are asking questions about my age and how long I will last. The club has just signed a new centre back [Sebastián Coates], who will be knocking at the door. There is no room for complacency.”
There can be few more honest or eloquent footballers than Carragher. As the interview progresses, he discusses football in all its intricacy - tactics, statistics, training methods - as well as the players he has played with and against. But it is when probing his psyche, the mechanisms that make him tick, that he is at his most compelling.
When I approach the question of why he retired from international football he hardly breaks stride. “Being a squad player is not enough,” he says. “I live for the fight. That is why I got tired of going to World Cups and qualifying games without being a part of the team.
“I did an interview the other day because it was the ten-year anniversary of the 5-1 defeat of Germany and the journalist asked if it was the greatest game I had ever played for England. But how could it be when I only played for ten minutes as a sub? I am not going to take credit for that.”
He also pinpoints another reason for his ambivalence. “It is a funny thing, but playing for Liverpool has always meant more to me than playing for England,” he says. “That does not mean I am unpatriotic or do not care about my country. It just means that, when it comes to football, my pride in Liverpool exceeds my pride in England. It is not a conscious preference, but it does say a lot about me as a person.
“I was brought up in Bootle and my mum still lives in the same house. This is where I learnt to play football and learnt about life. The connection with my roots is not about location, it is about culture and values and millions of other things that are difficult to define. People sometimes wonder why I am quite a modest person, but the reason is simple. If you are flash and arrogant in Liverpool, you are quickly brought back down to earth. That is the way it is.”
Carragher’s umbilical link with Liverpool makes it unthinkable that he would leave the club he joined as a schoolboy (he had initially supported Everton when growing up before slowly and painfully switching allegiance). “My contract is up for renewal in two years, but I would not want to play for any other club,” he says. “Life is not just about money. There are other things, important things, that have a different kind of value. Anyone from Liverpool could tell you that.”
Although Carragher is fixated upon football, it would be unfair to characterise him as a one-dimensional person. Quite the reverse. When we discuss politics he offers a nuanced left-of-centre analysis of social problems (the conversation takes place three weeks after the riots). When we talk about family - he has two young children - he talks passionately about parenthood. To put it simply, he is absorbing company.
I ask Carragher what his plans are for when he does retire from football. “I sometimes fantasise about leaving the game altogether, just to get away from my obsession, but to be honest I love the game too much,” he says. “Management would be a great option, or possibly the media. I read things in the papers or see things on TV and the analysis is sometimes not strong enough.
“An article will say that a certain player or team is underperforming, but there is not enough depth to the argument. They don’t ask why a player is below-par or don’t analyse where a team is going wrong, tactically or psychologically. That is where an ex-player with a bit of nous could add something.”
One of the most striking things about Carragher is that, although he has played at the highest level for many years, his thirst to learn is insatiable. Indeed, this interview came about because Carragher had read my book Bounce, called The Times to obtain my number and phoned out of the blue to discuss its ideas. Needless to say, the conversation was long and probing.
“To understand high-level performance, it is no good just assuming that your own personal journey is the last word on the matter,” he says. “You need to look at the science, read about the experiences of other people and look at the statistics. I try to read as much as possible to get a stronger handle on the science of performance. It doesn’t just help you as a player, it also helps you as a leader in the dressing room.”
Liverpool’s performances have improved considerably since Kenny Dalglish took over as manager in January, something that has not merely had an impact upon Carragher’s hopes of finally claiming an elusive Premier League winner’s medal, but also his sense of self-worth.
“The team has definitely grown in confidence and that makes life, and not just football, a lot brighter,” he says. “When things are going badly, as they sometimes have at Liverpool in recent years, you just want to hide behind corners. You don’t want to see the fans because you know how important it is to them. You almost feel responsible for their happiness.
“People look to players like me and Stevie [Gerrard] to sort any problems out. I love the responsibility, and I would never hide from it, but it can sometimes weigh heavily.”
As Carragher gets up to leave with a firm handshake, it suddenly occurs to me of whom he reminds me. It is a grandiose comparison, perhaps, but, given his authenticity, passion, depth and, above all, his defining belief in football as an extension of community, it is a comparison that Liverpool fans would instantly recognise. “Carra” is a latter-day Shankly. There is no greater compliment.
source