HARRY ON SANDRA
Everyone was going to America in the late 1970s: Pele, Franz Beckenbauer, Bobby Moore.
When I was invited to be a player/coach at the Seattle Sounders, it sounded like too good an opportunity to miss. Living in America was like one big holiday. It was such a brilliant life, we were very lucky.
After several years at Seattle I got a call from a fella named Leonard Lesser. “We want you as a coach for our new team, we need you in Phoenix,” he told me. I thought of a silly figure, doubled it, and then he offered more, plus a five-year deal.
I didn’t have a good feeling about Len. And my instincts were proven right when, during a trip to the bank a few weeks later, the cashier told me I had no money in my account.
“That can’t be right,” I told her. “I have just been paid.
Within two weeks, we were all unemployed. I remember me, Sandra and the kids ended up in a motel under a motorway like something out of the film Psycho.
Sandra has always been an amazing support throughout my whole career. I can’t tell you the amount of times she has brought me back up after a disastrous result. Jamie always says I won the lottery when I married Sandra, and he is 100% right.
She has seen me in some terrible moods over the years – and she doesn’t ever push me. When I am feeling like that, Sandra is the only person I can talk to.
Sandra was beside herself when I was on trial in 2012 for tax evasion. It broke my heart how upset she was.
But even though I knew she was angry, we never had an argument about it. We’ve always said that you can’t just have a row and throw the towel in.
You’ll have good days and bad days, and you just have to work through it. Though I wasn’t sure how I was going to get through that trial.
The wait for the verdict was awful. Sandra was in bits. When the foreman of the jury finally gave the verdict, I felt like I had won every football title you can think of. I knew I was innocent but there was that chance the jury might not believe me.
“Why don’t we go for a drink, Dad?” Jamie said on the steps of Southwark crown court. “Nah, I want to get home to your mum,” I told him. Grabbing my shoulder, Jamie smiled. “OK, let’s go home, Dad,” he said.