BETFRED CUP SPECIAL:
Moult will look up to late mother as he bids to help Motherwell make history and win deal which gives security to his family
AT 2.20pm tomorrow in a Hampden dressing room, Louis Moult will find a secluded spot amid the mayhem of team-mates shouting encouragement and loudly releasing tension and say a prayer to the mother he lost but will never forget.
‘When I score, I like to thank her, too,’ says the striker, explaining the finger to the sky that follows his goals for Motherwell in a salute to mum, Vicky. ‘I hope she is trying to help me, looking down on me, and I hope I am making her proud.’
At 25, Moult stands at the door not only to a Betfred Cup semi-final against Rangers but to a transfer that would ensure the future of his family. It is a place of genuine hope, even expectation, but the journey to these rewards has been sign-posted by disappointment, rejection and a genuine tragedy, far from the trivial, football variety of missed chances or last-minute defeats.
‘I lost my mother when I was 15,’ he says. ‘It was the hardest time of my life. My family was always a little disjointed. My mum and dad split up when I was four. Most of my growing up was with my dad and my brother. My mum suffered from alcoholism and was in and out of our lives. Thankfully, in the last couple of years, she was in our lives.
‘We all loved her to bits. She suffered from a horrible thing. It had an effect on all our lives.’
Signed by Stoke City at ten years old, Moult has arrived at Hampden by the most rocky of routes.
‘It is only four years ago that I was on minimum wage, playing parttime football. I had a kid on the way. I had to get another job to maximise my earnings,’ he says of a spell at Nuneaton.
‘Me and my missus could not afford the mortgage. We were looking at each other and asking: “How are we going to meet the payments”.
‘If you had said then I would have the profile I have now, well, I would have laughed at you. But I always believed there was something about me, I always believed in my ability. I believe I can go further.’
This faith has been tested but so has his resolve. Neither has been found wanting. In his time of trial, he found a way to pay the bills.
‘My dad is a painter and decorator and took me on as an apprentice. We worked in a school and he gave me the rubbish jobs, painting skirting boards, rubbing down and sanding down stuff,’ he says with a smile.
‘But then I got a job at Stoke City as a coach for the Under-8s. I would coach at night during the week and from 9-11am on a Saturday, and then shoot off to play for Nuneaton. It makes me appreciate life. You have to work for your money.’
His career started with a seductive promise. ‘I was on the bench for Stoke at places like Stamford Bridge. The strikers I had to battle with to get a place were Eidur Gudjohnsen, Peter Crouch, Ricardo Fuller. That was difficult,’ he says.
He was sent on loan to Bradford City and subsequently joined Northampton Town. ‘I was a slight kid,’ he adds. ‘When I look back, I probably was not ready to play in the lower divisions. I wasn’t strong enough, I wasn’t physically ready. I learned from that.’
A saviour came in the shape of Kevin Wilkin, a coach who matched the faith of Moult with a belief of his own. He signed him for Nuneaton and then took him to Wrexham.
‘I went 17 or 18 games and only scored one goal but he never wavered,’ says Moult. The striker repaid that debt with a glut of goals for his mentor. A move beckoned. ‘It was strange,’ he says. ‘We were on holiday in Greece,’ he says of himself, partner Carlie and daughter Isla.
‘We met a couple from Motherwell and they talked about the town but I had never really heard of it. I got off the plane to find 15 missed calls from my agent. He said Motherwell had made an offer. I signed the next day. It was weird. But I believe things happen for a reason.’
They also tend to occur if talent is matched by dedication and by a determination to build both physical and mental strength. ‘I was happy at Wrexham, we had just moved into our new home. But when Motherwell came in, we sat down in the bedroom and we
decided if we didn’t go we would forever regret that as you don’t know what is going to happen in life. The rest is history,’ he says. Moult is now a consistent scorer of goals. The future seems bright but it has followed a tough past. The absence of a mother was, and is, a heavy blow. ‘When I was at Stoke academy I saw boys with their packed lunches from home, while I was getting a quid from my dad to buy a sandwich,’ he says without a trace of self-pity. His mother’s death coincided with a vital moment in his development. It was difficult then. It still is. My mother’s birthday is coming up on the 24th. You never get over it but you have to try to come terms with it somehow, to make you stronger as a family. ‘I could have gone off the rails but mentally I was tough enough and I had people around me that made sure that would not happen. It does make you stronger. It has to.’ It has instilled in Moult an extraordinarily powerful bond with his family. His father, Arthur, and brother, Jake, will be at Hampden tomorrow and he talks softly and passionately about his life with his partner and child. He said: ‘We have another baby on the way and that just keeps me focused. That is why I put in an extra hour every day, and go to the gym on my own. I don’t ever want to be on the minimum wage again struggling to pay my mortgage. I have a family to feed. That is what my life is about.’ But surely he knows a contract offer at better wages is inevitable whether from Motherwell or a bigger club in Scotland or England?
‘It is a weird one. You are always worrying about your next contract,’ he says. ‘It is a short career. People say I am in a great position. But anything could happen and I try not to think about the future too much. I try to stay in the day. I have had blows in the past and I am a bit wary about football. I like guarantees as I know how easy it is to fall down and be at rock bottom.’
HE puts in the yards to ensure the next step is solid. ‘My missus says I have come through tough times. I find an inner strength to run that extra bit in a game or to do that extra hour in the gym. I am a massive believer in that you get out what you put in,’ he says. ‘Being released from clubs has made me more hungry for success. I am hungry to feed my missus and my children to have a good life.’
His life, though, has an impact on those beyond the immediate family. A friend told me of a wonderful gesture made by Moult. A fan won a meal with the striker at a supporters’ function and took along his son who chatted animatedly to the striker, telling him he was playing a match on Sunday.
Moult, without fanfare, went down to see the youngster on matchday. He recalls: ‘The little boy was buzzing when he saw me. I love doing stuff like that. It puts a smile on to faces. That is what life is all about.’
He grins, recognising that past has pain but it has joy, too. The best is almost certainly yet to come.