Jumped up: But Neville was a player every fan
wanted in his own team
The moment I woke up in New York on Wednesday and
discovered Gary Neville had retired, I hit Twitter with the first
words that came to mind: ‘Farewell to the most annoying player in
the history of world football.’
Within seconds I was bombarded with abuse from Manchester
United fans all over the world and congratulations from fans of
every other team. And there, in the proverbial nutshell, is the
dichotomy that is Gary Neville.
Loved by his own, despised by everyone else. And he
wouldn’t have it any other way.
My own hatred of the rat-faced weasel ran so deep that the
mere sight of him would make me come out in blazing boils of
fury.
As his former colleague, Jaap Stam, so memorably observed
in those ill-fated memoirs a few years ago, Gary and brother Phil
were ‘a pair of busy little ****s’. And the Dutchman didn’t mean
they were always occupied.
From the moment Neville walked out on the pitch, puffing
out his small chest like a stunted peacock, he’d irritate me. He
was like the worst kind of office block shop steward.
An officious little numpty with delusions of grandeur, a
haughty overestimation of his own talents and a relentless ability
to wind everybody up at all times with his sheer
presence.
Every brawl Arsenal ever had with United involved Neville.
But he always played the role of ‘hooligan spotter’ — the spotty
kid who set up the fight, then scurried away to let the bigger boys
scrap it out.
Who can forget him exchanging verbals with Patrick Vieira
in the tunnel (over Neville’s appalling treatment of Jose Antonio
Reyes), then begging Roy Keane to help him out?
He was there, too, when
‘Pizzagate’ erupted and during both the Ruud van Nistelrooy/Martin
Keown on-pitch battles — sneering, spitting and shouting like a
particularly virulent puff adder.
Arsenal had it easy, though.
Neville was even more annoying against Liverpool, where he seemed
to pride himself on being the Most Hated Man in Anfield
History.
Every time the old rivals
played each other, he’d pop up in the papers goading and taunting
the Scousers in an admittedly rather admirable, yet reckless,
disregard for his own life.
The Kop would scream abuse at
him for 90 minutes, and he’d return the favour with bells on. And
he’d be even worse in the home legs.
Witness the day when he
sprinted from the halfway line at Old Trafford to celebrate a
90th-minute winner from Rio Ferdinand right in front of the small
Liverpool contingent?
He was fined for ‘improper
conduct’ but protested afterwards, asking if it was preferable for
players to become ‘emotionless robots’.
And then there were the goal
celebrations. Every time United ever scored, Neville would charge
like a demented rhinoceros to his successful colleague and jump on
his back, arms punching the air — thus ensuring his own ugly mug
would be splattered all over the papers the next day.
This diabolical show-stealing
display would be ruined only if his equally camera-hungry mate,
David Beckham, got there first. Sometimes you could actually see
them fighting each other to get on their striker’s back.
As a player, Neville was like
a Jack Russell with worms, constantly nipping at people’s ankles,
foaming at the mouth and raging at anyone trying to discipline
him.
The centre of attention: Neville pushes Patrick
Vieira away from Ruud van Nistelrooy
His behaviour towards
referees was shockingly bad, regularly hurling foulmouthed abuse at
the man in black. Often because the official had just had the gall
to send off his beloved Keano for butting some
opponent.
So my gut reaction, as
communicated to the world of Twitter, was absolutely accurate. I
genuinely do believe that Gary Neville was the most annoying player
in the history of world football.
But the truth, the awful,
sickening truth, is that Neville is also one of the greatest
players in the history of world football.
Not technically. I don’t agree
with Arsene Wenger that Neville was even the best Premier League
right-back ever. As Keown said last week, Lee Dixon could do
everything he could but was a better positional
full-back.
No, I mean in regard to the
virtues that are so sorely missing in the modern-day game —
loyalty, passion, dedication, hard work and commitment.
Neville played 602 games for
United in 20 years. He never played for anyone else. He never even
thought about it. And he played 85 times for England.
Ferocious: Wayne Rooney and Neville get close in
England training
He was renowned for
the ferocity and intensity of his training. For him, there was
never ‘practice.’ If a colleague came under fire, he was always
there to defend him.
And off the pitch, he was a
good ambassador in terms of personal behaviour. Not for him the
vagaries of the drunken, drug-fuelled, womanising night-clubbing
scene.
If I’m honest, I wish we’d had
more players like Gary Neville at Arsenal.
Men of steel with the team
badge metaphorically tattooed on their hearts. Men who would fight
to the last drop of their blood.
Men who never contemplated
defeat until it actually happened. And men who understand what it
takes to win and to keep winning.
Gary Neville won eight Premier
Leagues, three FA Cups, two League Cups and one Champions League.
All while being a serial pain in the backside.
The greatest accolade I can
pay him today, as an Arsenal fan, is that I will miss him like I’d
miss a large rusty nail stuck in my forehead.
And I know when he reads this,
he will smile to himself and — rightly — think: ‘Job
done.’
Piers-Morgan