Inside the gloriously unwoke world of Alan Brazil
Ex-Scotland star played on the wild side of life... and loved every minute!
ALAN BRAZIL used to wear the Tottenham No 9 shirt currently modelled by £500,000-a-week superstar Gareth Bale. Though the Scot earned £499,000 a week less, he made up for it with enough escapades to make the hairs of today’s serious professionals stand on end.
‘I’m not bulls******g, I am glad I played when I did,’ says the 61-year-old Glaswegian, whose voice is familiar to millions of listeners on talkSPORT.
His autobiography Only Here for a Visit is a breathless romp, a highlights reel of Men Behaving Badly with a bit of football and broadcasting sandwiched between boozing sessions.
You can’t imagine Harry Kane or Bale carrying a legless Glenn Hoddle home or hunting in a forest to find Bryan Robson’s vomit-stained sweater.
‘One hundred per cent we had more fun,’ says Brazil. ‘As much as the money is fantastic nowadays, you’ve lost that bit of companionship, heart, fight, togetherness. It’s gone in our game now.
‘Maybe it’s the camera phones or youngsters thinking about their bodies. We’d go out after every game and get on it. And I don’t mean whipping it up in Tramps, we mixed with the punters.
‘If clubs are stupid enough to pay today’s wages, good luck to the players. I am one of the lucky ones. I reinvented myself and I’m fine.’
Brazil’s reinvention came about by turning his favourite hobby — talking — into a nice little earner.
As a player, he had peaked in his early 20s, winning the UEFA Cup with Ipswich under Bobby Robson and playing for Scotland alongside Kenny Dalglish at the 1982 World Cup.
But by 27, he was washed up and finished, a chronic back condition ensuring his spells at Tottenham and Manchester United ended in failure on the pitch. Fortunately, a hectic social life gave him a treasure trove of stories that would serve him well during his award-winning radio career.
‘We’d all be together after games. At Spurs, The Coolbury Club by the ground or the Bull’s Head i n Turnford just off the A10. The landlord would get his guitar out and we’d have a lock-in with the punters.
‘The team coach at Tottenham had two waiters and a fridge full of beer and wine. If the journey wasn’t long enough to finish all the booze, you’d hear bottles clinking in the players’ bags when they got off the bus.
‘We never went to the West End or private clubs. If anyone had ordered a bottle of vodka worth £1,000, our winger Tony Galvin — who had a degree in Russian — would have reported us to the KGB. Just give him a rundown pub with a pint of bitter and he was happy.
‘At United, I’d go with Robbo, Gordon McQueen, Kevin Moran and Norman Whiteside to Paddy Crerand’s Irish bar in Altrincham with its old jukebox.
‘I’ve got an admission to make. I don’t love football any more, not like I used to!’
Bonds with old team-mates have lasted decades. For his first radio show in 1999, he was accompanied by former Spurs team-mate Paul Miller for support.
World Cup winner Ossie Ardiles, one of the best players in Spurs’ history, remains a good mate despite the pair being political polar opposites. Ardiles is liberal, Brazil can sometimes appear to be on the right of Attila The Hun.
‘Ossie comes up for lunch in London, we have a few reds and a sing-song, reminisce,’ says Brazil.
‘We always end up arguing about politics, he’ll ask about Scottish independence and I say: “No, the oil isn’t there, the money’s gone” and we end up poking fingers at each other, poking chests. It’s ridiculous.
‘It is such a laugh and I don’t mind saying every now and again Ossie has gone to Liverpool Street station and I have to put him on the train so he doesn’t go to Norwich instead of Hertfordshire where he lives.’
Brazil is candid about his views. Being a Conservative voter in Glasgow, particularly from the Celtic side, gives you a strong hide. To his credit, he rarely falls out with friends who disagree, including United great Crerand, a staunch Labour man.
Brazil is still happy to ruffle feathers. ‘I know people call me a dinosaur but I’m a happy dinosaur,’ he adds. ‘I don’t see a problem in being laddish. Many people out there think I’m too old, too manly, too white. But if a radio broadcaster is bringing in listeners, that really should be all that counts.’
A certain demographic would raise their glasses when Brazil starts to espouse his views on subjects ranging from women’s football to politically-correct language.
‘If someone asked me if I’d watch 90 minutes of women’s football, I’d say no. Good luck to women footballers and anyone who wants to watch them play, but it’s not my cup of tea,’ he says. ‘What irritates me is that most people I speak to think the same but are too afraid to say it.
‘People went mad when I said I didn’t understand why Andy Murray had blubbed at a press conference after announcing his retirement. I’ll admit it, I don’t like seeing grown men cry.
‘When I was a kid, I’d often hear people say: “Did you get a bird last night?” But if I used that phrase now, they’d be on me like a ton of bricks. Since I started doing the show, the world has become far more politically correct.’
However, with his radio station on the front line of putting more black and ethnic minority players on the airwaves during a time of Black Lives Matters, Brazil is keen to promote his own credentials as a believer in multi-cultural society. ‘When I’m out in London, I mix with people from all over the world and I’m all for people being allowed in Britain who assimilate, work hard and love the country,’ he explains.
‘Those kinds of people, wherever they’re from, should be welcomed with open arms.’
There is no doubt that Brazil would consider himself lucky. Lucky that he can continue drinking without the descent into alcoholism that has afflicted so many of his peers.
He worked with George Best at Sky before transferring to radio — Brazil astutely realised he wouldn’t be promoted on TV with another Scot, Andy Gray, ahead of him — and describes Paul Gascoigne as “skin and bones... a nineyear-old in a man’s body”.
He once discovered former England star Kenny Sansom destitute on a park bench after he’d finished a show in London and had to arrange for the PFA to collect and take care of him. But somehow Brazil (right) has been able to walk the walk, talk the talk, and live to tell the tales. From boozing with Hoddle by the Houses of Parliament, ‘he had to be helped home’, to once training at United whilst still under the influence. ‘I went to Stockport to watch a band called Sad Cafe, Frank Worthington was there and played a bit of drums. It was a brilliant night,’ reminisces Brazil.
‘When I got home, there was a phone message saying I had to be at training the next morning — it had meant to be a day off. We ended up playing first team versus reserves, I was still p****d no doubt about it, but ended up grabbing a few goals. ‘Paul McGrath was marking me and couldn’t believe how well I played. He told me: “Next time you go out and get pissed before training, let me know so I can prepare better.” Brazil’s book is a throwback to a previous era, a golden age or dark age, depending on your point of view.
It’s worth remembering that while he wore No9 at Spurs, that shirt number was allocated to England centreforward Paul Mariner at Ipswich. Mariner is currently struggling with a brain tumour which adds further poignancy to the literary title that Brazil chose. ‘Only Here for a Visit,’ he muses. ‘I believe that. Enjoy yourself.’
Good luck to women playing football. I don’t watch it. It’s not my cup of tea