Inside many a successful footballer lurks a worried man

In the shrink's chair

Footballers are like politicians. We think they don't but they do, we hope they won't but they will, for if we prick them, they don't half bleed. They have phobias, depressions, worries, jealousies, sulks, just like any run-of-the-mill person who has been damned lucky in their life and chosen career. We don't expect it in players, because the weak have been weeded out at an early age, in the hothouse from whence they came. They have been bred to be strong and confident, yet still it happens. With politicians, they have gone through all those hoops, been bruised and battered, have become so thick-skinned you assume no arrow or sling could pierce the concrete, but dear Gawd, behind the so solid exterior is a little puny heart, seething with fears and resentments. (I exclude G Brown from this. He has just replied to a letter I sent months ago, with a signed photo and a signed copy of his excellent book Courage. Cheers, Gordon.)

Beckham was born with an excellent self-image. Who else could get away with being known for wearing his wife’s knickers?

All the same, I was quite astounded when Steven Gerrard admitted that he was fearful of losing his place in the England team. He went on to say he felt tense and frustrated, realised he was putting too much pressure on himself. Heh up, this is England's second best, second most valuable, second most desired player, someone whom the whole world would rush to buy, should he ever come on the market. (The first is Wayne, as of now, but the market can go up or down, and shares can fall.) Surely Stevie Gee must be deeply, innately confident? Liverpool will have lavished barrel-loads of head shrinkers all over him since the age of nine.

Then I began to think back - I've never seen him smile in post-match interviews. Win or lose, he looks away, at the floor, into space. And those creases on that young brow. Despite his brilliance, his professionalism, his huge success, he has emerged as well, himself, as he probably would have been if he'd ended up a labourer like his dad, worried about being paid off.

Most players are confident, they really are. It's one of the reasons they have come through. Ronaldo, Cantona, neither of them has ever had doubts about his own genius. Berbatov, however languid he might appear, is not suddenly going to get less languid just because some jobsworth on the Man United coaching staff is screaming at him to stop being so fuckin' languid.

I'm sure Beckham was born with an excellent self-image. As a player, he's had so many setbacks and ignominies, yet overcome them. Which other player could have got away with it being public knowledge that he wore his wife's knickers and a sarong? Any dressing room in the football world would have totally crucified a normal, averagely confident player.

Perhaps confidence can fade with age, with life's ups and downs. We all have a memory of the young Michael Owen, so sweet, so naive, such an innocent, open, happy boy. Now look at him. A suitable case for treatment, or a quick rescue from Newcastle. Was this always in him? I dunno. I'm just observing what can happen to anyone, even star footballers.

Gazza was one who broke the rules - someone so clearly troubled, as daft as a brush, according to Bobby Robson, yet his talents were so great that his problems were overlooked and then for a time surmounted in the joy of playing, but we could all see, from his earliest days, his twitches, his erratic behaviour on the pitch. But you have to have Gazza's genius to get away with being Gazza.

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