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MY great mate Stan Collymore wasn’t eligible to play in the 2000 Worthington Cup final. But he will always be remembered for the major impact he had on our pre-Wembley bonding session.
La Manga: two little words, so many headlines. And all because Stan let off a fire extinguisher in the lounge bar of our very exclusive hotel at four in the morning.
The idea to go to Spain was a good one. Martin O’Neill thought we could relax before the final against Tranmere but he didn’t come with us.
His assistants John Robertson and Steve Walford took us instead and we started drinking as soon as we boarded the plane. Robbo was on Bloody Marys.
We arrived at La Manga and piled into reception. The floors were marble, huge chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling, and the whole place was very expensive and very up-market.
“Where’s the f***ing bar,†shouted a broad Scouse accent. Ian Marshall, the joker of the changing-room, wasn’t wasting any time. The beer was flowing. So was every other alcoholic drink you could name!
Norwegian club Rosenborg were staying there too and their players were shaking their heads as they muttered “lager louts.†Their coach asked us to keep the noise down.
We took the hint, left the hotel and found an Irish bar. We carried on drinking. And drinking.
At one point, Robbo told us it was time to go to bed, because we had a curfew. Marshall asked Robbo for an extension, and he said “You’d have to ask the gaffer.†So he rang Martin back in England, at whatever time it was in the morning, left a message and told the rest of us we had a couple of extra hours.
By now we were all in a state. But on the way back at about 2.30am, one of the lads peed in a flowerpot by the main door of our hotel, and I could see these people looking at us in horror: men in white tuxedos, women in evening dresses.
At nine the next morning, there was a bang on the door and the instruction to pack.
What happened? Stan had let off the fire extinguisher in scenes of carnage, according to the lads who were there. The incident had already been reported on Sky TV.
Marshall was petrified. Even the lads who hadn’t done anything were frightened about facing Martin. He was fuming. We’d dragged the name of Leicester City through the mud.Finally, he turned to Marshall and ordered: “Don’t ever leave a message on my phone again.â€
Drinking hadn’t been a factor at United or at Crewe. But things were a bit different at Leicester.
One time, Neil Lennon, Muzzy Izzet and I did a sold-out Q&A at Jongleurs nightclub. Training finished at lunchtime so we went for a drink to wait for the gig.
As the afternoon wore on, the prospect of facing 400 supporters became more and more daunting. So we had another drink. Then another. We turned up at Jongleurs absolutely steaming.
The first half was a disaster. Lennie spat beer on one lady and Muzzy fell asleep. Luckily we brought it back a bit after the interval but God knows what those fans must have thought.
Ace Daily Mirror columnist Robbie Savage is releasing his new biography Savage next week - and MirrorFootball will be carrying more exclusive extracts on Wednesd
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Robbie Savage has told how he smuggled alcohol in his bag on away trips and drank a bottle of wine the night before matches.
The midfield star even admitted he lied to his manager to conceal his drinking and even poured vodka into a friend’s eye while on a boozy night on the town.
The controversial midfielder said: “Some friends and I would go through eight to 12 bottles of white wine every Thursday night.
“On Fridays I’d have a few glasses at home or, if we were away, I’d bury a bottle in my kit bag and drink it secretly in my room.
“It was stupid but because I was playing out of my skin and I’m superstitious and have obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), I was scared to change it.â€
The Derby captain told how his drinking took hold in the final season of his Leicester City career.
He said: “I’d never liked alcohol, maybe because my dad used to make me drink a can of Guinness every night as a kid to try to build me up.
“The first time I went out with my wife Sarah, when I was at Crewe, I was shocked because she ordered white wine with the meal.
“But when I joined Leicester and Sarah moved down to join me we would go out with friends on a Thursday night and put away eight to 12 bottles of wine in a sitting.
“How on earth I used to train the next day was beyond me but I would be fresh as a daisy and on Saturday I was man of the match.
“I didn’t even enjoy drinking that much - when it got to my third bottle I was gagging. But it became a superstitious thing. So on away trips I would sneak a bottle of white wine into my bag. First I’d just have a glass the night before the game, then half a bottle, then a a bottle. And I won player of the year.
“If my room-mate Graham Fenton was around I would just tell him I needed it to get to sleep. He probably thought it was OK because I was only drinking out of glass, not chugging out of the bottle.â€
Robbie even lied to Foxes manager Micky Adams after being spotted on one heavy session.
He said: “Sometimes we’d get a bit lairy. There was one time I poured vodka into a mate’s wife’s eye.
“One night, someone phoned up the football club and Micky Adams called me into the office the next day and said: ‘Were you drunk last night’?
“He named the restaurant I’d been and said: ‘Someone who was there has phoned up and they said you were bladdered’.
“I denied it completely, but I had been bladdered. But the next day, again, I was man of the match.
“It’s embarrassing to admit it now and the funny thing is, it would never have gone on as long as it did if I’d had a nightmare the first time I did it. And even if we’d won.
“Eventually I had a couple of bad games on the run and I thought, ‘maybe I’ll try it without the wine’. And it worked because I started to play well again.â€
Robbie is convinced that his mild OCD helped persuade him to follow the booze ritual.
He said: “I do accept that I’m a bit odd. I can come from training and Hoover for an hour because everything has got to be tidy and in the right place. If it isn’t I get panic attacks.
“When I came home today the kids had lined up the footballs in the garden to count them. I couldn’t cope with that. I had to kick them into the goals at the ends of the garden because that’s where I think they belong.
“Every night my wife phones to see what time I’ll be back and then goes running round the house clearing things away so I won’t go off the deep end. I must be a nightmare to live with.â€
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The 1999 Worthington Cup Final was the day I became a hate figure, the long-haired blond w****r who turned a showpiece occasion into ‘The Robbie Savage Sideshow’.
It resulted in death threats cut out of newsprint being sent to the club and my home address – and gave me a shock on my summer holiday.
My instructions in the match were to keep David Ginola quiet. I went into him hard, and he didn’t like it.
Then I tackled Justin Edinburgh. It was a fair challenge, but he objected. He swung his arm. He didn’t touch me, but he did brush my hair.
I fell down, claiming he’d caught me in the face. He was shown the red card. Edinburgh had raised his arm, which is a sending-off offence, but I did make a meal of it.
There were words said to Allan Nielsen and Steffen Freund. I didn’t touch Freund, but he went down as though he’d been shot.
I didn’t like him. He had a big mouth. He thought he was hard, but he wasn’t. He was useless.
In the 89th minute the board went up, Robbie Savage off. I sat down and 30 seconds later Nielsen scored.
It was a terrible way to lose a cup final and there were a few verbals after the game.
Unbelievably, the very next fixture was at White Hart Lane. Freund was accusing me of cheating and diving. Edinburgh wasn’t very happy either.
Jeff Powell of the Daily Mail called me a ‘rabid Afghan hound with blond hair’. Tottenham manager George Graham appealed for calm from the fans.
In the first minute, I went into a tackle with Edinburgh and got him, fair and square.
We won the game, inflicting Tottenham’s first home defeat in six months. We had our revenge.
That summer, Sarah and I were on holiday in Spain and went out for dinner.
We were sitting inside, and the blinds were down to shield us from the sun.
As it grew dark, the blinds were raised, and sitting on the other side of us was Edinburgh and his missus!
He didn’t say anything, and I don’t blame him.
Ace Daily Mirror columnist Robbie Savage is releasing his new biography Savage next week - and MirrorFootball will be carrying more exclusive extracts on Wednesday.
Read more: http://www.mirrorfootball.co.uk/new...us-Tottenham-article543831.html#ixzz0vVPCsXd7
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