Clive Allen’s Arsenal odyssey
The former striker discusses his mad 63 days at Highbury, and scoring 49 goals in one season for arch rivals Spurs
You’re often referred to with regard to your famous footballing family – what does that mean to you?
For me, it meant a way of life. My father, Les, was a footballer (for Chelsea, Tottenham and QPR), as was my younger brother Bradley and my uncles and cousins (including Martin and Paul), so I grew up in a football environment. My education was in and around pro football, and you get so used to the way of life until it’s in you – you know that’s what you’re going to do as well. I was six and would go to QPR with my grandad to watch my father. I remember kicking a ball about on the Loftus Road pitch, being in the dressing rooms and talking to the players. It helped me so much because when I later became an apprentice at QPR, I already knew a lot of the people and felt comfortable. I had no fear.
Did the surname ever hinder you?
You’d hear the occasional thing like, “He’s only here because of Les”, but I was a goalscorer, so all I had to do to shut that up was put the ball in the net. Fortunately, I did exactly that. You scored 32 goals in 49 league games for QPR before joining Arsenal for £1.25 million in 1980, but never made your league debut. What happened?
I had no intention of leaving. I’d had a great first year at QPR, scoring goals, and was really happy. I felt like I still had a lot to learn at the highest level, but then I got a phone call from QPR manager Tommy Docherty saying, “You’re off to a great club”. I was only 18 and totally shocked – the first teenager to go for a million
quid, and that was that. I had no control over anything. Little did I know that 63 days later, without playing a game, they were swapping me for Crystal Palace left-back Kenny Sansom. To this day, I still don’t know what happened. There are many rumours: tax reasons, Palace wouldn’t do business with QPR for Sansom, or maybe Arsenal didn’t fancy me – I don’t have a clue. I said I didn’t want to leave Arsenal but the manager, Terry Neill, said I wouldn’t play. What else could I do?
Did it help that Terry Venables was the boss of Crystal Palace?
Yeah. Terry simply said, “Do you want to come and play for me?” and that was that. And then he left! Football can be mad. He went to QPR, and almost a year to the day after leaving the club, I returned to Loftus Road with him. I was going back with Terry and loved QPR, so it was easy. I’d grown up during my time away and was a stronger person. We had good success. You faced Palace in the 1981-82 FA Cup quarter-finals and almost started a riot...
I did! The fans came in their thousands to see us, and put it this way: they weren’t being very hospitable to me. I scored the winner and just lost it. All my frustrations from that year away came out, and I ran to celebrate at the halfway line towards them. I didn’t have the guts to go right up to them, but still: they went nuts and I got a ticking off from the local constabulary. Did you like the plastic pitch at Loftus Road? It was good for the team we had. It was fast, and we had a huge advantage. The away side were allowed to train on it on the Friday night, but the club were sneaky – they didn’t water it and it would be really sticky. The next morning, they watered the pitch and it was like glass – the ball zipped about.
You won the PFA Player of the Year award in 1986-87 after scoring 49 goals for Spurs. How did you manage that?
I’d been injured the previous season, but got myself really fit. David Pleat came in and asked what I was doing over the summer. I wanted to stay at home and just train, but he insisted I go away to relax because pre-season would be tough. He told me that I’d be fit and ready to start for him. I was raring to go and scored a hat-trick at Aston Villa on the first day of the season, then didn’t look back. We played with a five-man midfield, leaving Glenn Hoddle as the free player, and he revelled in that. As the lone striker in front of guys like Glenn and Chris Waddle, I was flying. I’m gutted we didn’t win anything. We should have.
You went to Bordeaux in March 1988 – how did you find that experience?
I was out of contract, 28 years old, and always had an ambition to play overseas. The chance came up, so I just thought, ‘Why not?’ It was fantastic. Aime Jacquet was the manager and I learned so much. I lived in the Medoc region, famous for its wines, and they were amazing – I had a brilliant education there! The training camp was near a beautiful chateau, so it was a perfect setting.
Not quite like going down to the pub after training, then...
[Laughs] We had a system where the players paid fines for their small misdemeanours. At the end of the season, all the fine money was collected up and the entire squad went out for an evening of beautiful food and fine wine. We had a goalkeeper, ironically called Dominique Dropsy, who looked after the fines. Luckily, he always chose wonderful venues.
You won only five caps for England – how frustrating was your international career? Very. Gary Lineker and Peter Beardsley were in front of me so it was always going to be hard, but it was tough not to get more of a look-in. My big regret is that I didn’t score for England.
You had a pretty good view of John Barnes’ wonder goal at the Maracana, though?
It was incredible. I was sat on the bench and we were all shouting, “Pass it!” but he weaved through and scored. It was an amazing night – Bobby Robson was so happy. Typical Bobby, he was beaming and told us all that productivity would be up in the factories, as everyone back home will have gone to work happy.
You played a bit of American football after your football career finished. Er, explain? The president of NFL Europe got in touch and asked me if I’d kick for the London Monarchs. I was sure it was an old mate winding me up, but he was very serious and wanted to know if I’d be London’s kicker. I thought it should be a rugby player, but he believed soccer players adapted better to kicking an American football, so I had a go. I was hooking it at first but soon got the hang of it – kick with a straight leg, not a bent one – and there I was, part of the team. I played one season at Stamford Bridge and it was great. I even kicked a couple of winning field goals. One was in Edinburgh against the Scottish Claymores – the old enemy! I danced around the dressing room and the American lads were wondering why I was so delighted!
“MY BIG REGRET IS NOT SCORING FOR ENGLAND – BUT I WAS BEHIND BOTH LINEKER AND BEARDSLEY”