Mum preferred me in jail. It meant I wasn’t dead ... or out killing
Boreham Wood hero’s emotional reunion with Ian Wright, the mentor who turned his life around
THE embrace that Ian Wright shares with Adrian Clifton is typically effusive and tactile. And yet there is a deeper reason for the connection between the Arsenal legend and the man whose goals have helped Boreham Wood reach the fourth round of the FA Cup.
Their bond goes back years and, without fear of hyperbole, it can be described as life changing. This meeting was last week at the nonLeague club’s Meadow Park. Their first was in Clifton’s prison cell in HMP Portland, not so far from Bournemouth’s Vitality Stadium, where Clifton will hope to be the hero again today. Their story is one of the extraordinary tales the FA Cup produces, a redemption song for our times.
Back in 2009, Ian Wright fronted a Sky reality TV show where he went to a young offenders’ institution trying to help imprisoned youths change their lives. And, in the ultimate vindication of a TV show, 13 years on we have the extraordinary sequel, beautifully put together by ITV in a short film to be aired before their live coverage of today’s game.
‘It’s a far cry from where we met,’ says Clifton, addressing Wright in the stands at Meadow Park. ‘Thirteen years on!’
‘Unbelievable,’ says Wright, and he’s not wrong. Shots of Wright meeting Clifton at Boreham Wood, where he plays up front and scored the 86th-minute goal which secured their third-round win against Wimbledon, are intercut with Wright’s show from 2009 and his meeting with the teenage Clifton.
‘I’m in here for supplying class A, possession and been in prison twice before,’ the young Clifton tells Wright. ‘I used to play for Arsenal academy…’ Wright winces, shocked that a young man with such talent — at the academy from 11 years old to 15 — could end up here.
‘I think I remember saying to you; “What you doing here?” ’ says Wright to the now 33-year-old.
‘I remember,’ replies Clifton, who grew up in Hackney.
Clifton, speaking as a teenager to Wright, relates the story of his teens. ‘From being released from Arsenal, within a year I was in prison. When I was at Arsenal, I had a manager Dermot Drummy, who was from Hackney and he said: “Look, just stay away from the street.” Because he knows you’re vulnerable to it, just from where you live.
‘And unfortunately for me it [crime] was easier. As soon as I got released from Arsenal I was like: “I don’t have something to keep me busy any more.” I got arrested in Oxford and they told me that you’re going to Portland. And for a juvenile it’s the worst prison to be in.’
There were no tears from Clifton. He had learned not to show emotion. There are many heart-wrenching moments in the ITV film — and one of them is a flashback of Clifton’s mother speaking in 2009. ‘I would rather him being inside because at least every day I knew where he was,’ she says. Otherwise, she would be worrying about ‘him becoming a victim or someone else is becoming a victim. I don’t want to hear my child is dead’.
Clifton watches the footage incredulous. ‘That is so hard to hear! My mum thinks that I’m going to be dead or kill someone. That was a reality check to me.’
The moment that changed his life came when a prison guard told him that the TV cameras were coming to the prison. ‘He said to me: “There’s a football thing going on.” There was a sheet of paper on the wall and it was: “Football Behind Bars: Sky One, Ian Wright.” And I was: “This is it!”’
Wright is seen in the documentary telling the teenagers this is a major chance for them to break away from criminal life. You watch it, thinking it unlikely many will heed his words.Yet as Clifton tells his story, citing his lack of a father figure and mentor at crucial points in life, it impossible not to be moved by the simple touches Wright imparts in the documentary.
‘You said: “I reckon you can do a bit when you come out.” And I was like: “Huh. Ian Wright thinks I’m good at football!” I remember I was walking off and you patted me on the back. That pat on the back was mad for me! That was mad! Giving people the confidence, because a lot of these boys, they have their chest out and are all boisterous but they’re acting like that from trauma, being unconfident.’
It’s hard to credit that a simple touch meant so much. Yet Wright did a little more as well, arranging a trial with Wycombe Wanderers on release. Clifton trained with the then League Two club and though he didn’t earn a contract, he was set on a different path, finding a place at Isthmian League Romford.
Being away from Hackney was key. ‘Living in Wycombe, being away from everything, was massive because they always say you’re at your most vulnerable in the first year of coming out. I started working in warehouse, stacking boxes, and started playing football and from there I never looked back.’ From Romford, he worked his way up to the National League, the fifth tier of English football. And even to World Cup qualifiers, playing and scoring for Montserrat.
‘The thing with being a mentor is being there for people,’ says Wright, who is visibly moved at several points in the film. ‘It’s not like every time you speak to them you have to give them unbelievable words of wisdom. The main thing is being here. Showing love. Letting people know: I could call them if I need something.’
At one point, the film cuts back to the prisoners graduating from their time with Wright, receiving a medal and words of praise from him. Clifton takes the microphone on the stage to make a speech, his mum watching on. ‘This experience has possessed me with the self-confidence and belief that I can break my offending behaviour,’ he tells the graduation ceremony. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind that if this is rolled out across the country, it will change lives. Thank you.’
It changed one life, and as FA Cup victories go, this is up there with the best.