Tragedy forces star to mature
To his fans, Rio Ferdinand was the linchpin of arguably the biggest football brand of the past two decades.
A veteran of 81 appearances for England, six Premier League titles with Manchester United and his crowning glory — leading the Red Devils to European success in 2008.
Yet, for the man himself, those are just statistics concealing the true story of life at the pinnacle of the sport . . . and an almost destructive obsession to stay there. Ferdinand retired in May 2015, shortly after losing his wife Rebecca to breast cancer.
Earlier this year, the uncompromising former defender spoke candidly in a BBC documentary about life as a single parent following her death.
Now he has published a book titled Thinking Out Loud — Love, Grief And Being Mum And Dad and, as he explains, it’s not your average sporting biography.
In the heartbreaking account of life on and off the pitch, Ferdinand opens up on his treatment of team-mates, including a young Cristiano Ronaldo, who joined the club in 2003 and quickly became the hottest property in world football. Back then though, the team leaders at Old Trafford “ganged up” on the aspiring superstar.
“People think football clubs are close, but again this is wide of the mark. You’re just team-mates, united by a common goal to win,” Ferdinand said. “There is no place in a Premier League dressing room for sympathy. Anyone stupid enough to show vulnerability will be made to pay for it.”
The only emotion Ferdinand allowed himself was a hatred of losing. He would berate team-mates who hadn’t trained or played hard enough. He was annoyed by players who socialised after a loss.
“As a professional sportsperson, you don’t learn to hide your emotions. You learn not to have them,” he said. “The depth of horror I feel about losing is a toxic mix of humiliation, shame and paranoia. Winning brings me no joy, just relief.”
This was how Ferdinand survived at the top during his 20 years as a professional footballer and his personal life was equally regimented.
Rebecca knew his routine down to his carb intake the day before a match and, as those close to him would discover, his sleep after a training session was never to be interrupted.
Ferdinand’s bloody-minded approach to sport and life saw him miss the birth of his second child, the funeral of his grandmother and countless family holidays. The plan was always to be a proper family once his football days were over.
“What kept us going was the knowledge that I would be free to be a proper husband to Rebecca and we couldn’t wait,” he said.
They never got that chance. The cancer she had battled and beaten in 2013 returned, and within weeks, Rebecca was gone.
Suddenly, Ferdinand had to be much more than a footballer — thrust into the role of mum and dad for three children, yet he lacked the basic skills after having every need catered for.
He had no idea how to operate a washing machine and had never even cut his own toe nails. Suddenly a sporting superstar, who admits he did not respect anyone who showed emotion and vulnerability, had become everything he hated most.
“It seems to be all right to cry at football matches, but you’re not supposed to cry when your wife dies. How can that be?
“If I can help anyone else facing what we’ve been through, what we’re still going through, our family’s loss will not feel completely meaningless.” ● Tony Veitch spoke to Rio Ferdinand in Veitch On Sport. Thinking Out Loud is published this week.