Davies Hunter - Gazza: My Story

Copyright 2004 Paul Gascoigne

The right of Paul Gascoigne to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

First published as an Ebook by Headline Publishing Group in 2014

Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library

eISBN: 978 1 4722 2063 9

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Table of Contents

Almost as soon as Gazza burst on to the scene at Newcastle United, the young Geordie was the centre of attention: Vinnie Joness notorious ball-handling showed the lengths people would go to try to stop him. Then, with England on the verge of possibly reaching the World Cup final in 1990, came Gazzas tears the moment that brought a whole new audience to the sport and helped set the football boom of the 1990s on its way. But then came a career-threatening injury, mental health problems, self-confessed alcoholism and family disputes, as life in the full glare of the media spotlight became too much. Now, at the end of his top-flight playing career, Gazza is ready to confront his demons. The result is quite simply the most remarkable footballing story youll ever read: what its like being Paul Gascoigne, in his own words.

Gazza made his league debut for Newcastle in 1984-85, moving to Spurs in 1988 in a huge 2 million deal. He was one of Englands key figures in the 1990 World Cup, and moved to Italian club Lazio in 1992. He then played for Rangers, Middlesbrough, Everton, Burnley and briefly in China. In 2004 he became player-coach of Boston United. He won 57 caps.

The best of this years blockbusters

Glenn Moore, Independent

Gascoigne the player deserves to be remembered. And Gazza the book deserves to be read

Tom Watt, Mail on Sunday

A rattlingly good read John Rawling,

Guardian

A moving book about a tragic figure in a wonderful if tainted game

Ray Connolly, Daily Mail

Hilarious, terrifying and touching

Daily Express

A very honest book

Daily Telegraph

One of the scariest football books ever printed

D.J. Taylor, New Statesman

[Gascoigne] deserves credit for refusing to gloss over his misdeeds

Liverpool Echo

A sad, reflective, often very funny tale

Birmingham Post

Painfully honest, but compelling

York Evening Press

Gazza writes with honesty and sincerity

Scotland on Sunday

Thanks and then thanks to my mam and dad who have supported me throughout my life and career, even when things were bad, and to all the others, too many to name, who have stuck by me through thick and thin. And to Hunter Davies who did my head in, asking so many questions, but has done a fantastic job. Cheers.

This is the third thing Ive won in two years. I won against alcohol and drugs. The third is the book award. This one is for life I just hope I can make sure the other two are as well.

Paul Gascoigne on receiving his award for Sports Book of the Year at the British Book Awards, 20 April 2005

Ive just made a chart of my life. Its six feet long and three feet wide. Thats the chart, not me. Ive never been three feet wide. Not yet. Its on brown paper, written in white chalk, plus coloured crayons for the major problems Ive faced, such as BEER, WINE, VODKA, COCAINE, MORPHINE, PARANOID, ANXIETY.

Across the chart Ive recorded all the key events, from the beginning, being born, right up to today, thirty-six years later, and I hope Ive got most of the dates right. Always Fighting at School, Professional at Newcastle, Steven Dying, World Cup, Nine Twitches, Meet Sheryl, Broke Arm, Spurs, Broken Kneecap, Lazio, Rangers, IRA Threat, Fight with Sheryl, China oh, loads of stuff, all the things that have happened to me, all the awful, shitty horrible things. Its called PATH TO RECOVERY.

I started working on it in China, making lists of all the memories that came into my head; memories I didnt really want to come into my head, but theyre there and wont go away.

Then, in Arizona, at the clinic, I wrote it out neatly on the brown paper. It was part of the therapy, but Id started to do it anyway, for my own sake, to confront the terrible things Ive done, to stand back and look at myself, to tell the absolute truth and not avoid anything.

It wasnt a picnic, being in the clinic. Its miles from anywhere, out in the desert, and they take everything away from you. You dont have any money, any mobile phone. They dont allow you aftershave or even mouthwash. Alcoholics, when theyre desperate, will drink any old shit. Im now admitting Im an alcoholic. Im proud to admit it, to say Im an alcoholic. Thats what you have to do. Im going to AA meetings. Three a week, if I can make it. And I have a counsellor Im going to keep on seeing.

Ive got an illness, I realise that now. Its not alcoholism, not really thats more a result than a cause. What Ive been suffering from all my life is a disease in my head. Im still scared of dying, thats part of it. If I have a sore eye, Im convinced Im going blind. If Ive got a twitch, I panic about it, and it gets worse. I get obsessed about the simplest, silliest things, just like many children do, wanting things in exact rows, right numbers, proper places. Most people grow out of it and forget it ever bothered them. If, of course, they ever grow up.

At this very moment I can feel a new twitch. God knows where its come from. I cant stop myself pulling the flesh on my stomach every five minutes, over and over, for no reason. Its as if I fear my stomach will disappear if I dont check its there. I tell myself its to make sure Im not getting fat, but obviously thats not something I need to check every five minutes. Even I dont get fat that quickly. Besides, at present Ive hardly got any stomach Im the thinnest Ive been for years. But theres no logic to these sorts of anxieties.

We were four to a room in Arizona. People came and went. All sorts of people. A few were sportsmen. One guy was a brilliant frisbee player. He was amazing. You are involved in sessions all day. I was up at 5.30 every morning and on the go till 10 at night.

I was in for thirty-three days. Id been there before, a couple of years earlier, and I was so busy helping others that I didnt concentrate on myself enough. Now Ive got all the books and Ive got all the tools. I know the questions to ask myself. Was life good beforehand? No, it wasnt. Getting depressed is no fun, not with all the panic attacks. Getting drunk all the time, to escape feeling depressed, now that I did like, no question. That was good. It was a buzz. What I didnt like was afterwards. I didnt like waking up in the morning, not remembering what had happened, feeling ashamed and filthy and guilty, feeling crap. So overall, was life good? No, it fucking wasnt.

I was living a plonky life, being a plonky person, being Gazza instead of being Paul Gascoigne. I got so upset by all the Gazza stuff in the press. People say dont read the papers, but you cant help it. Then I tell myself it doesnt matter what they say, what lies they write, what lies other people give them. But they have the upper hand. They always win. They might pay you a lot of money, and Ive had loads from them, but it works against you because if you sign up with one paper the others will turn you over, dig up all the dirt. Then the one that paid you turns against you as well, or runs negative stuff at the same time as the piece theyve paid you for. So what do you do? Its a waste of energy worrying what they say, either way. I know that now. All I really have to worry about is waking up each day sober and staying clean.