Books – John Hartson The Autobiography (2006)

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John Hartson has blown the lid off an astonishing fight he had with a Wales manager in front of Ryan Giggs and the rest of the star-studded national squad. Hartson opens up for the first time on the extraordinary punch-up with ex-Wales boss Bobby Gould in his autobiography, which is published today. Hartson pulls no punches himself in describing the fisticuffs he says he was forced into before a crucial World Cup qualifying tie against Turkey in Cardiff. He dubs Gould’s insistence upon a fist fight, witnessed by the other players who formed an audience, as embarrassing, weird, disturbing and totally undignified.

The fight between the two men came against a backdrop of Hartson being unhappy with the way Gould was managing Wales and overlooking himself for a place in the starting XI. Hartson points out that while Gould could get away with such eccentric behaviour as manager of the infamous Wimbledon Crazy Gang, it was never going to work with world-class players like Ryan Giggs under his command. Hartson says former Wales skipper Gary Speed egged him on in the fight. Speed himself was also disgruntled with Gould’s management and had a stand-up row with him in the dressing room after one defeat.

Hartson explains that even though he held back in the punch-up against ‘a man in his fifties,’ Gould ended up with ‘scratches on his face and hair all over the place.’ Those in the Welsh camp recall that at the time of the Turkey game, Gould was spotted with a black eye. Hartson’s book revelations explain in detail for the first time why that was the case. Two other Welsh managers – former boss Mark Hughes and current chief John Toshack – are also criticised by Hartson in the book.
For the most part, Hartson is hugely complimentary towards Hughes. But he criticises Sparky for what he dubs negative tactics in the big Euro 2004 play-off against Russia at the Millennium Stadium.

Hartson is the first player from that team to break ranks and admit what most of the Welsh public have always believed – that Hughes should have been more offensive towards the end of that qualifying campaign, which saw Wales take just one point out of a possible 12 and then lose to the Russians.

Hartson also criticises Toshack, claiming the Wales boss did not show him enough respect when he quit international football earlier this year. Hartson says he is unhappy Toshack ‘said in public that I was more or less past it anyway.
Hartson has, of course, reversed his decision since then and stated he is available again to play for Toshack’s Wales side.

It is Hartson’s no-holds-barred account of the undignified fight with Gould, though, which will rock Welsh football most. Gould quit as Wales boss in 1999. But FA of Wales officials will be alarmed to learn this morning that their own manager could have become involved in such unsavoury scenes with one of our top players.

In John Hartson: The Autobiography, the player says that Gould’s refusal to pick him led to the events spilling over at the Welsh team’s training base in Newport ahead of that 0-0 World Cup draw with Turkey. ‘By then, Gould knew I didn’t like the way he was going about his job and I guess he had a similarly low opinion of me,’ writes Hartson. ‘It was one of those sham situations when you have no option but to plod on, tolerating each other.

‘Credit to him, though, this time he had the guts to try to find a solution, although it was another eccentric, Crazy Gang stunt. ‘Hold it,’ he shouted at me. He had turned to face me, right in front of the other players. ‘Then he said, ‘Right John, you and me, let’s have a fight.’ I didn’t know what to say or where to look. ‘Here I was being challenged to a fight by a middle-aged bloke, who also happened to be my boss. ‘Gary Speed shouted, ‘Go on, John!’ I laughed, but inside I was panicking, thinking ‘I can’t do it – I can’t fight the gaffer. But the TV people had gone and taken their cameras and there were no newspaper reporters left, so there would have been no witnesses.

‘A circle of players had already formed and they were up for it. There was no way out.
‘We came together, me and my boss. In truth I just grabbed hold of him for two minutes, didn’t throw a punch or aim a kick. ‘I knew I was getting into a scrap against a man in his fifties, but I could sense he was still strong. ‘Maybe he sensed it could have become too heated because he suddenly said, ‘Right, that’s enough.’ ‘He wasn’t hurt, although there were some scratches on his face and his hair was all over the place. ‘It was so undignified.’

Hartson goes on to say that Gould probably viewed the fight as Hartson getting his ‘revenge’ for not being picked in the team. ‘But it was weird, bizarre,’ he says. But he points out that if the stunt was meant it as a team bonding exercise, it didn’t work. Wales drew 0-0 with the Turks and only finished above San Marino in a qualifying group which also contained Holland and Belgium.

Hartson describes the incident as ‘disturbing’ and ’embarrassing’ and criticises the FAW for appointing Gould in the first place. ‘His appointment dragged Welsh international football to its knees. We became a laughing stock of the world game,’ writes Hartson.

‘The original blunder was made high up at the Welsh FA by those who, for some reason, decided we needed an English manager. ‘Then the FAW compounded their mistake by sticking with him. They were unproductive years, a waste of time, energy and ambition.’

Hartson talks of how the Welsh squad lost so much respect for their manager they ended up taking the mickey out of him. Morale reached its lowest point after a 4-0 beating in Tunisia when skipper Speed launched a tirade against Gould in the dressing room. ‘He complained about his tactics, training methods and the rest. It was an emotional, passionate outburst,’ says Hartson.

The big centre-forward speaks more fondly of the Hughes years, where he became a regular pick as lone striker in Wales’ rigid 4-5-1 formation. But Hartson also offers a candid assessment of the Welsh team’s failure to reach Euro 2004. That so-called golden generation of Premiership players at their peak won the first four games of the qualifying group, but then failed to win any more and lost to the Russians in the play-offs.

Wales drew the first leg 0-0 in Moscow, but flopped 1-0 at home in the Millennium Stadium return four days afterwards. Dismissing talk of Wales being unlucky, Hartson admits Wales blew it because they were too negative. ‘The obvious reaction is to say we didn’t get what we deserved, but a more honest assessment would be that we got exactly that,’ says Hartson. ‘I would never want to criticise Sparky, he’s my idol. But. perhaps tactically, he could have done things a little differently. ‘In the closing stages of some games, I think we should have been more offensive and taken a few more chances.

‘But who am I to criticise a man who took us so close?’

Hartson confirms he originally quit international football because of well-publicised personal reasons. But he says, ‘It irked me when, a few days after acknowledging and accepting my reasons for standing down, Toshack went public and said that I was more or less past it anyway.

‘There was no need for that. I was disappointed not to receive respect.’

Western Mail

Flicking the picture section of this book is a bit like watching the Incredible Hulk expand to the point where his clothes burst from his body. John Hartson arrived in top-flight football just as players were starting to pay greater attention to diet and Hartson, too, was always keen to do so. Awaiting, nervously, an ultimately unsuccessful fitness test with Glasgow Rangers in 2000, he relaxes in a smart restaurant in Glasgow’s West End. “I was so hungry I had four portions just to fill me up.”

In an increasingly abstemious football era, Hartson has bucked the trend, courting a lifestyle that leaves him looking like a rogue teletubby. That could be endearing, but this book simply cements the impression that he is a bit of a blimp. He does at one point suggest he is sensitive and that may be true, but he barely has time to say so before his “ghost” sweeps him away with another tabloid torrent of cliches.

Some of Hartson’s observations could have been scripted for Harry Enfield’s Loadsamoney character, such as a slightly disturbing page-and-a-half-long rant against his father’s espousal of solid working-class values. “There are times when I think: hold on a minute, Dad, I’ve bought 15 homes and you’ve never bought one. I left home at 16 and have earned millions since then. You haven’t…” Jonathan Barnett, Hartson’s agent, has equal billing with his father, but is described as a blend of philanthropist and benevolent uncle.

Bruce Rioch, as Arsenal manager, incurs Hartson’s serious displeasure in demanding that the player be weighed twice a week. George Graham registers more highly on Hartson’s likeability chart. “This must sound bizarre now, but I didn’t know any Scots back then,” he says of meeting Graham, when signing for him at Arsenal. Especially bizarre, John, as you were waxing lyrical about the influence of Jim Ryan and Paul Telfer at your first club, Luton, just a few pages earlier.

Hartson prefaces the book by stressing that it “was essential to tell the truth, however revealing the memory” and there is evidence, in several places, of a real philosophical struggle to arrive at the objective truth. Of Mark Hughes, as Wales manager, Hartson says: “His tactical knowledge – his footballing intuition, if you like, was near perfect.” Two pages later, it’s: “I would never want to criticise Sparky, he’s my hero and I love the man and his style, but perhaps tactically he could have done things a little differently.”
Hartson’s thoughts on his five years with Celtic are mildly revealing and even inject some rare humour into the tale, while his description of overcoming a career-threatening back injury does increase the pace and tension, albeit too briefly. Another page-and-a-half-long rant, this time questioning why Sven didn’t give Darren Bent an extended run as England’s first-choice centre-forward and take him to the 2006 World Cup rather than Theo Walcott, seems bizarre. What’s this got to do with a Welshman discussing playing in Scotland? Then you remember that Bent and Hartson have in common representation by the aforementioned Barnett…

A book, like trying to match one of Hartson’s eating feats, guaranteed to bring on a severe case of indigestion.

Graham McColl When Saturday Comes