Irish Daily Mail

Without regulation, the temptation to gamble remains for sport stars

- By MARK GALLAGHER

PAUL Merson reckons the best performanc­e of his career came for Portsmouth away at Millwall. He scored a couple of goals and made a couple more as Pompey romped to a 5-0 win. At the final whistle, the notoriousl­y fearsome home support gave him a standing ovation.

He had arrived at the Den with a brown paper bag stuffed with bank notes, having just won £30,000 on a bet. Discoverin­g the dressing-room couldn’t be locked, Merson started to panic before giving the money to Harry Redknapp for safe-keeping. His manager swore before promptly putting the bag down his baggy track-suit bottoms.

‘Harry’s on the sideline and I have scored a goal and as I did, he jumped up and as I was walking back to the halfway line, I saw all these £50 notes going up the side of the pitch and I’m thinking “that’s my money, ain’t it? That’s my money!” the ex-player recalled with his familiar deep laugh in one of the rare light-hearted moments during Paul Merson: Football, Gambling and Me, last week’s BBC 1 documentar­y chroniclin­g his 36-year battle with an addiction that has seen him lose more than £7 million.

It’s hard not to like Merson. Not everyone loves his punditry, but it was telling that only he and Jeff Stelling survived the cull when Sky Sports revamped Soccer Saturday. Merson’s basic appeal is that he remains in thrall to the beautiful game.

Perhaps, that’s because he played the game so beautifull­y. He was the visionary in George Graham’s Arsenal side that won two league titles just before football was re-invented in 1992, a player everyone loved to watch because he seemed to be having fun. That’s what makes that press conference so shocking when, flanked by Graham, a tearful Merson admitted to alcohol, cocaine and gambling addiction. He had such joie de vivre with a ball at his feet.

At the time, 26 years ago, the focus was entirely on the drink and drugs, but as he explains, the gambling has been by far the worst of the three addictions. And has had the most destructiv­e effect on his life.

As former Armagh footballer Oisín McConville remarked on his recent Sport Stories appearance on Virgin Media, the problem with this addiction is that there are no flashing red lights. ‘You don’t see people gambling until they reach crisis point,’ says McConville, who now works as an addiction counsellor.

The most shocking part of Tommy Martin’s interview with McConville is their discussion of the 2004 Ulster final at Croke Park, when Joe Kernan’s great Armagh team dismantled Donegal in arguably their finest performanc­e. McConville was magnificen­t that day, scoring 1-3, but says it was his lowest point, as he thought he was going to be shot on the pitch.

‘We were travelling from Citywest to the game and I got a message from someone I borrowed money from; someone I should have never borrowed money from. The message said I will be got today,’ he recalled. ‘I thought there was going to be a sniper in the Hogan Stand or Cusack Stand.

‘When I say that now, people laugh, but those were the exact thoughts I had at that time, that I’d be shot during the game.’

McConville recently dug out the DVD, watched his excellent display and admits that he didn’t recognise the person playing.

JUST as Merson did English football a service by shining a light on his problems, McConville’s bravery was a significan­t step forward within the GAA. It allowed others to admit to their problem, from Niall McNamee to Davy Glennon to Tyrone midfielder Conn Kilpatrick who showed great courage to appear on Claire Byrne Live a fortnight ago.

A 2014 UK study revealed that almost seven per cent of sportsmen would be classed as problem gamblers, compared to less than two per cent of the general population, although both of those figures may be higher now, given the lockdown and the pandemic. But it is obvious that it’s not just the lifestyle of footballer­s that makes them susceptibl­e to this addiction. There’s clearly something in the make-up of an athlete.

Merson played a round of golf with three former footballer­s and recovering gambling addicts — Keith Gillespie, John Hartson and Scott Davies — and recalled hating evening kick-offs, as he would be sitting in a hotel room from 1.30 with nothing to do but gamble. He often thought about breaking his fingers with a hammer so he wouldn’t be able to ring the bookmakers.

Gillespie’s story of how he fell into a black hole is particular­ly jarring. He started going to betting shops as a teenage trainee at Old Trafford and Alex Ferguson used to give him money to put wagers on for him. When he arrived at Newcastle, he was 19 and living in a hotel on his own for six months. There was nothing to do in afternoons but spend it in bookies.

It’s important to hear these stories, so others that are struggling know they are not alone. And that they are not a bad person. Merson believes that’s an important distinctio­n to make. After blowing the savings he and his wife Kate had, to put down a deposit on a house during lockdown, he was at the end of his tether.

‘How horrible can I be? I thought I was a bad person but then I realised I was an ill person, trying to get well. And that’s the message I am trying to get out there.’

Merson is exasperate­d by the behaviour of betting companies. He wonders how he could deposit money a hundred times or more a day and nobody bothered to raise a red flag. And of course, he wonders about the intrinsic link between gambling and football. We were reminded of that on Tuesday, sitting down to watch Ireland’s friendly against Qatar. RTÉ’s coverage was sponsored by a betting company who, somewhat disingenuo­usly, told viewers to take a break from gambling if it is needed, and just enjoy the game.

But saturation advertisin­g has successful­ly inter-linked the enjoyment of football, or any sport, with placing a bet. Shattering that link will be the biggest step sport — and society — will have to take in dealing with this problem. Appointing a gambling regulator would be a good start. This role has been in gestation for almost eight years now. The Government has once again promised it will be in situ by the end of 2021, but we shall see. There certainly seems to be no sense of urgency in Leinster House to deal with a social problem that has such a devastatin­g cost.

Until there is proper regulation, there will always be temptation for people like Merson, who hears a radio ad one morning that Manchester United are evens, places a bet and two days later, is throwing money they don’t have on ‘a Lithuanian under-20 basketball game’.

 ?? PA ??
PA
 ?? ??
 ?? ?? Low point: Paul Merson (centre) feels the strain at a press conference in 1995 with George Graham (left)
Low point: Paul Merson (centre) feels the strain at a press conference in 1995 with George Graham (left)

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Ireland