THE DECLINE HAD BEEN GRADUAL and relentless but, when the end approached, it was alarmingly sudden. My recollections were of scoring twice for Nancy in the final game of the season, putting me in the top six goalscorers in the French first division. By the first match of the next season, at the age of 37, my 19-year career was over.
For some players, the deterioration can be slow and subtle; for others, the change is dramatic and almost overnight. And once there is a whiff of vulnerability, quality opposition seize upon it, as Martin Keown discovered last week. Middlesbrough exposed the Arsenal defender’s physical frailties in the second leg of the Carling Cup semi-final through some neat triangles that left him unprotected against the pace of Boudewijn Zenden and Massimo Maccarone. Keown’s predicament was deciding whether to get too tight on the forwards and be caught by balls over the top, or allow himself a few yards and give the attacker the chance to turn and run at him.
An unsteady 45 minutes ended when he hauled down Maccarone and was sent off. The career of Keown, nicknamed “The Rash”, has been based on dispossessing attackers with his speed, strength and robust tackling. But, at 37, his descent from being one of the best man-to-man markers of recent seasons has been exaggerated by not playing regular first-team football and a succession of niggling injuries. Keown’s slips are more evident because of the position he plays. And sometimes team-mates have to adapt their game accordingly because they appreciate that there is a player that has a potential weakness.
I left Nancy for a honeymoon in Tahiti, where I jogged every day, before I had to report for pre-season training in Paris with Red Star, my new club. I trained hard for five weeks, regained my fitness, shed the weight that I had put on but, come the pre-season friendly matches, I was lumbering. I kidded myself that once the real season began, I would be fine. Over six weeks, my career had unravelled and I wasn’t proud or stubborn enough not to accept that it was the end.
It was a steady decline, not helped by two knee operations that meant that, towards the end of my career, I was looping around an arc rather than turning and could not jump as high. At first, I would be unable to react to situations that I could see were developing. Later, my thought processes slowed too, so that my reactions looked cumbersome and lethargic. There were also frustrating instances when I would be unable to outpace or outmuscle a defender that I could have done a year earlier.
After games I was like an old man; I hobbled along, my knees creaked and my body ached. It took two to three days for my body to recover enough to play again, rather than hours as it had in my early twenties. It was a slog in training on a Monday and Tuesday. The players would laugh. “Look at the old man,” they fondly jested.
Until then, experience had overcome my waning reactions. I adapted because I had learnt when and where to make runs in the penalty box and would expend less energy by making fewer runs into the channels. Defenders such as Keown likewise compensate by reading the game. They take up the right positions and nudge, tug or block forwards. Kevin Moran, the former Manchester United and Ireland defender, was so acute at the skill in his latter years that he got fouls given in his favour.
It’s a fallacy when people say that older players should train less and concentrate on games. Gianfranco Zola said that his performances for Chelsea last season were partly a testament to a fierce pre-season training regimen. “I have a big drive to do well for Chelsea and I never stopped training through the summer,” he said. “I’m feeling the benefits now and, when you score goals, it makes you feel younger.”
Older players can also prolong their careers depending on the position that they play, the players around them and the style of the team. Gary Speed can use his experience to mop up in the Newcastle United midfield, while Alan Shearer benefits from having players such as Kieron Dyer, Laurent Robert and Jermaine Jenas to do the running. When Liverpool won five trophies in 2001, they played a system that suited the strengths of Gary McAllister, then aged 37, and concealed his lack of pace.
Likewise, Leicester City’s long-ball game suits Les Ferdinand’s strengths of tussling for crosses. Players who rely on pace, such as Ian Rush, lose much of their predatory threat when they lose half a yard in pace. Other players, such as Teddy Sheringham, are fortunate to suffer from few serious injuries. Paul McGrath, for all the abuse that he put his body through, played at the top level until he was 37.
In some positions, such as goalkeeper, a slight dip in agility can be glaringly obvious. David Seaman’s career has been in decline for a few years and many would argue that he should have retired gracefully last summer. An ill-advised spell at Manchester City simply highlighted the scale of the deterioration. Many former players would say, though, that he was right to carry on for as long as possible while he could command a huge wage.
In the past, Seaman and many top-flight players would have extended their career by dropping down to the lower divisions, partly because of the money, but also because of their love of the game. But things are not always easier there because those divisions are more physically demanding, you get given less time on the ball and you become a target. The other downside, many fading stars would say, is that it can be frustrating to play with players who do not have the same skill levels as top-flight team-mates. That leads to a lack of motivation and a more swift decline.
Billy Bonds played at West Ham United until he was 42. Now, it is generally perceived that top-flight outfield players, depending on their position, can play until 37 or 38, and goalkeepers until about 39 or 40. In future, I think that the limit for outfield players will drop further, to perhaps 35 in ten years’ time. In football, the adage for older players is “two bad games and your legs have gone”.
