Down a pot-holed lane, hidden deep in the Kent countryside, lies a large
detached house. A “For Sale” sign stands out, as if illuminated, against the
woodland backdrop. It is such an idyllic existence that Gavin Peacock, the
40-year-old former Queens Park Rangers, Newcastle United and Chelsea
midfield player, is forsaking to move to Calgary, Canada. Not to continue
his career as a respected media analyst but to study for three years for his
Masters degree in divinity. A career in the church awaits. As Peacock leaves
the macho world of football far behind, he talks to Tony Cascarino, his
former Chelsea team-mate and close friend, about his past, present and
future, his hopes and his fears ... and his faith.
TC: Why, Gav? The lifestyle change, giving up work, everything. It involves so
much. Why?
GP: Well, I've been a Christian practically all my playing career, from when I
was 18, but I've never felt called to the ministry. When I retired from
playing six years ago, a very good friend of mine, whom I regard as my
spiritual mentor, the Rev Tony Roake [chaplain to the church of St John and
St Philip in The Hague, the Netherlands, and chaplain to the British
Embassy], said to me: “I think you should go into the ministry.” I said:
“No, Tony. I've no calling to do that at all. I'm going to do media work.”
There are people who have faith, who are Christians, but who aren't called
to lead. But then about two years ago, out of the blue really, I just felt a
weight of conviction. I'd forgotten what Tony had said but I just felt: ‘I'm
going to do this.'
TC: A calling? Describe it?
GP: Over my football career and life as a Christian, I've always spoken at
different things - youth events, dinners, in churches. Over the last eight
months, I've actually been preaching in churches. When I do that, I'm happy,
it feels right. I enjoy it but, at the same time, I have to do it. I feel
compelled to do it. It's twofold. I not only enjoy it and it makes me feel
good and it completes me, it's that I have to do it. It's a conviction I
have. It's different from doing something just because you enjoy it.
TC: It's a dramatic change. Are you afraid of making the break, the move to
Canada?
GP: We [the family] go to Canada quite a lot, we've got a small place there,
we love the place. I looked at the seminary that was proposed, it was a good
one, I went for an interview and I got accepted. I just feel that that's the
right place to be for us for the next three years. To go away, to do this.
Sure, anything that takes you out of your comfort zone is a bit scary. It's
the unknown but, because I have my faith, the unknown is not as frightening.
TC: You never preached to your former team-mates. Certainly, not to me.
GP: I've always been open about my faith, but it's not as if I went in and
bashed the lads over the head with a Bible. It's more a case of: “What did
you do on Sunday?” “Oh, you went to church.” And then the conversation
strikes up. People get to know. Sure, there's the ribbing. About anything
that's different, if you wear a new tie or a new pair of shoes. The lads
would take the Mickey. But when they saw I was sincere about what I believe,
I think most of them respected it.
TC: You got on really well with Dennis Wise and other lads with, er,
reputations.
GP: I just think I'm an ordinary person. I do do things wrong [laughs] and
there are lot of other people who I consider as better than me. But that's
not really the issue. I just feel that when my faith is there, it is the
centre of my life. Football was never central, it was never my God. It was
very important, it was my job, I loved it. But it's never been the core of
my life.
TC: But, as a footballer, you wanted to win?
GP: Oh, yeah. I wanted to beat you. That was my job, I had to give everything
to that. But it wasn't the be-all and end-all. I mean, a lot of people in
our industry struggle when they finish football. Their world collapses. What
takes that place? Football is transitory; God is permanent.
TC: Life will be different when you return to England.
GP: Sure, we're going to sell this house. Eventually, hopefully. Because I
know that when we come back, I won't live in a house like this; it is
incongruous with church leadership. So, this will go. But while we've
enjoyed nice things, I've never gripped on to it. I've held it lightly, it's
just things. Money does not bring happiness and the world of football shows
that.
TC: I used to be altar boy, when I was 9, 10, 11, at my Catholic church in
Orpington. I had all the church upbringing. You never had any of that at
that age?
GP: No, church conflicted with Sunday football. I liked playing on a Sunday.
So I didn't go to church nor Sunday school. But I did have the belief that
God was up there somewhere but, then, it was more like a superstition. But
when I was 18, my mum [Lesley] started going to the local church. I saw a
change in her and thought: ‘Let's go along myself and see what it's about'.
It was just before I'd broken into the first team at QPR, I had an XR3i, I
had money in my pocket and I was an England youth international. But when I
met with these other young people, they were speaking about Jesus and it was
as if he was real to them. I had everything that the world said was
successful but they had someone I didn't.
TC: What do the family [wife, Amanda, son, Jake, 15, and daughter, Ava, 12]
think about moving?
GP: They're excited. It's an outdoor life. There's skiing and snowboarding for
the kids in the winter; in the summer, there's hiking, mountain biking,
kayaking, canoeing. Each member of the family sees something individually
for them there as well.
TC: What happens at the end of the three years?
GP: I'll have done all my theological training, I'll have done six months'
internship within the church I go to out there, which is Baptist. What
denomination I'll be ordained into - Anglican, Baptist, Pentecostal,
Catholic - is down to me to choose.
TC: Would you ever come back to help out troubled footballers?
GP: All things are possible. I could be finished with football but I couldn't
rule it out completely. It's difficult to look so far in the future. A lot
of people thought I might go into coaching but I never felt that calling. I
feel that this is what I'm made to do, this is my purpose. For me, there is
no higher calling. I know it's the right thing.
Amen corner: sportsmen and women who were happy to keep the faithThose who
put devotion to their God ahead of devotion to their sport
Andrea Jaeger The tennis prodigy and something of a brat, who was the world
No2 at the age of 17, found the relentless pursuit of glory distasteful.
After retiring at the age of 22 in 1987, she dedicated herself and her
winnings to charity and studied for a degree in theology. In 2006, she
became an Anglican Dominican nun.
Glenn Hoddle Criticised for working with a faith healer while England football
manager but it was his belief in reincarnation - or, specifically, that
people with disabilities are being punished for sins in a former life - that
cost him his job.
Jonathan Edwards The son of a vicar, Edwards, left, refused to enter athletics
competitions on a Sunday at the start of his career but relented before the
1993 World Championships. After retiring, he became a presenter on Songs of
Praise but declared last year that he had lost his faith.
Eric Liddell “The Flying Scotsman” was the son of Scottish missionaries and
became both a fine sprinter and an evangelist. His refusal to run on a
Sunday meant that he had to withdraw from the 100metres at the 1924 Olympics
in Paris, but he won the 400metres final in a world-record time, clutching a
piece of paper with some motivational words from the Bible in his hand.
Michael Jones The All Blacks back-row forward was one of New Zealand's finest
rugby players but won only 55 caps in an 11-year international career
because of his refusal to play on a Sunday. Asked how such a committed
Christian could be such a brutal tackler, Jones quoted from the Bible in
reply: “It is better to give than to receive.”
David Sheppard The England batsman, below, and eventual Bishop of Liverpool
trained for the ministry while at Cambridge, where he shared an opening
stand of 343 with John Dewes against the West Indians. Became the first
ordained minister to play Test cricket, making his debut in 1950. Once
berated for dropping a catch off Fred Trueman, he was told: “Kid yourself
it's Sunday, Rev, and keep your hands together.” His final Test,
appropriately, was at Christchurch.
Muhammad Ali Cassius Clay joined the Nation of Islam in 1964, taking the name
Muhammad Ali. His link with the political movement was controversial,
especially when he refused the Vietnam draft, saying the war was against the
teachings of the Koran. In 1975, he converted to the more mainstream Sunni
branch of Islam.
Words by
Patrick Kidd
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