Lavish rewards eclipsed by pitfalls of fame and wealth
THURSDAY morning and Leigh Griffiths and Kyle Lafferty were back in their natural habitat. On the back pages, making headlines.
The Celtic striker marked his first Parkhead start since last September with a spectacular strike against Nomme Kalju, eight months after Brendan Rodgers checked him into rehab for depression and serious off-field issues.
As Griffiths arced a free-kick into the top corner and sunk to his knees, the headline writers rubbed their hands together.
Nobody thinks he’s out of the woods yet. He can no more control when the black dog might return than he can the speed of global warming. But doing the right things and steering clear of Rudi Skacel sing-a-longs is easily achievable. After months of expensive support and counselling, he owes Celtic that much.
There were times, as they stumbled towards eight-in-a-row, when the Scottish champions could have used a fit Leigh Griffiths. Equally, there were times when Steven Gerrard would have given his eye teeth for a decent shift from Kyle Lafferty.
This week the Ibrox club were forced to pay up the striker’s contract and get rid, just 12 months after he returned from Hearts for £450,000. The Northern Ireland international’s skeletons of historic gambling issues were well known; he was always a risky signing. But even with the gambling back under control, Rangers fans had reservations over his arrival and their instincts were spot on. If Lafferty’s ability was never in doubt, a return of one goal in 37 appearances suggested his head was never quite in the right place.
When fans look at Griffiths and Lafferty, you can hardly blame them for wondering why footballers with a God-given talent should be offered every advantage in life and still suffer problems like the rest of us.
They’re blessed by fame, money, female attention, the big house, holidays in Dubai Sofitel and two top-of-the-range cars on the driveway at least.
At the height of his powers former Hearts striker Christian Nade actually owned an Audi Q7, Lamborghini, Aston Martin, Cadillac, Lincoln and a Mercedes all at the same time.
Yet six cars did nothing to make the Frenchman a contented figure. In 2014, he tried to take his own life after a long battle with depression.
Writing a book about mavericks of Scottish football like Andy Ritchie, Andy Goram and Frank McAvennie some years ago, it was clear that most came from modest, working-class backgrounds. They were blessed with a sporting talent and when they came into a bit of money they had no idea what to do with it. They made bad life choices and did daft things.
Not everyone is equipped for the sudden onset of wealth or public attention. Least of all football players. There’s no degree course to prepare young men for having too much time and money.
No textbook on how to go from skinny, acned-scarred dolts invisible to the fairer sex to suddenly finding themselves irresistible to nightclub gold diggers. And if there was, few would bother reading it.
People were always telling Ritchie to give up the vodka, gambling and nights on the tiles. Yet the man himself was blunt. Why would he when he loved every minute of it?
Gifted footballers have a lifestyle most would give their right arm for. But many don’t have the willpower or mentality to nurture or handle it.
They walk off a pitch and nothing else can match the thrill or the adrenaline or fulfilment of scoring goals or winning football games. And, on those long afternoons when the work is done and they’ve a gold credit card burning a hole in their pocket, the only places that come close are a bookmakers’ shop or a boozer.
When a footballer fails, people are quick to point to his technical failings or lack of work rate. We all think we know a player.
Yet few know what’s going on in the most important area of all. The head.
There’s no way for supporters or journalists to see an addictive personality, or a player bottling up depression or battling chronic demotivation caused by having so much cash in the bank he could pack it all in and retire on his 30th birthday.
For the likes of Leigh Griffiths and Kyle Lafferty, the rewards football brings are always outweighed by one thing. The dangers.