Stillness and Speed: My Story (31 page)

Didn’t they discuss it all with you? You’d think the obvious thing would be for Wenger to sit down with you and say, ‘How do you see it going . . .?’

‘That’s funny in football. I mean, nobody does that! And of course I’m too proud to just say: “Well, let me just play twenty games, I’ll be happy with that.”
I can’t do that! So that was the clash. I wanted to play every game, of course. And if I didn’t play I was angry with [Wenger] until I played and then it was OK. Sometimes we really
fell out with each other. He used statistics on me and one time I said to him: “Where in your statistics does it say that I changed the game with a killer pass?” And he’d say:
“You run less in the last thirty minutes and you’re more at risk of getting injured, and your pace is dropping.” That was his thing: “You’re dropping pace.”
Which I was. No problem. But then again I’m the one who can make a difference for you so . . . And sometimes we fell out about that and he would say: “You only think of yourself.”
So I was the bad one!’ [
laughs
]

Would voices be raised?

‘Not many times but it did happen. But with respect: no swearing or name-calling. It would happen on the field when he told me I wasn’t playing. Even later, when I was thirty-five or
thirty-six, he would say: “Do you still want to come to the game? Do you want to be on the bench?” And he’d leave the decision to me. And most of the time, of course, I’d
say: “I want to be on the bench.” I don’t know what he was thinking. Was it like: “I’d rather not have you there” or “I’ve got so much respect for
you?” Of course I knew when I was thirty-five or thirty-six that I couldn’t play every game. But within yourself you think you can.’

And you didn’t want to come on for just twenty minutes
?

‘Well, in the end I wouldn’t mind. If I was on the bench anyway I wanted to come on. But to be fair I think most of the time, if his decision wasn’t obvious, he would tell me
what he would do. So the respect was there. The arguments we had were only about those sorts of football-related things. Me playing or not playing. It was very childish [
laughs
], but it
came from the heart . . . from both of us.’

So by that time Jose Antonio Reyes would be ahead of you?

‘Yeah.’

Which now seems a bit weird.

‘Yeah.’

And who else would play instead of you?

‘When we had Kanu, Wiltord, Henry and me, it was four strikers for two positions and it was all about rotating systems coming into football. “You can’t play every game,”
and all that sort of bullshit. And later it was Adebayor and Reyes . . . Yeah, that was a strange time but for me, it was like: “OK, I understand. I respect your decision, boss. But, come on,
it’s
me
. I can do something for you, I can make a difference.” Sometimes, if the game was too chaotic he would put me on for the last twenty minutes to control the pace of the
game, keep the ball, get a passing rhythm going again. It was kind of: “Give the ball to Dennis and we can relax a little bit and get into position,” because a lot of players would lose
the ball too quickly. I didn’t mind because I was playing and I was still important but in a different role. I think this would be my last two or three years at Arsenal. By that time Arsene
would say: “I don’t see you as a first-team player any more. Of course you’re important for the team – what do you want to do?” Then I mentioned I would like to go one
more year, finish at Highbury, which has of course been my home for eleven years, and do it like that. Largely, I accepted my role. No worries.’

No raging against the dying of the light?

‘No, it was acceptable, although it was disappointing at the end of course with the Champions League.’

The Champions League final against Barcelona in Paris in 2006. It could have been the most fantastic swansong. Then Jens Lehmann gets sent off, Arsenal are down to ten men, Sol scores, you
almost hang on to the lead, but in the end they score those two late goals, and you never got a chance to come on . . .

‘Arsene was disappointed as well. I think he had a different scenario in his head.’

Like you’re 3-0 up, with ten minutes to go, and you come on for a last bit of glory . . .

‘Something like that. Or even two-nil down. You know, just to give me those minutes in the final. We had that sort of relationship in the end. It was somehow . . . You’re building up
and building up and getting all the trophies and getting personal success and in the end you get to the Champions League final at last. “Jeez! If only I’d been five years
younger!” But that was probably the most we could have hoped for. The team wasn’t what it had been two years earlier. We weren’t the favourites. We could have won, though, I wish
there was something more in it, but . . . . we were happy with that. And I was happy with that moment.’

20

R
AY
P
ARLOUR REMEMBERS
taking Dennis for his first game of golf in England. ‘We used to play
every Wednesday and Dennis said: “Mind if I come?” and we said, “No, Dennis! Of course you can! No problem at all.” We weren’t very good ourselves at the time, so
we’re a bit worried. We’re thinking, he must be good, he’s good at everything. Anyway, we’re all sitting by the tee, about five to two and Dennis pulls up in his car, and
gets out looking
immaculate
. He had all the proper gear and we’re all like, “Oh my God, he’s going to be so good.” He comes up to the tee, and we say:
“Dennis, you play first, you’re our guest today.” So we’re looking down the fairway. It’s about a mile. Dennis gets his big club out and as he swings, we’re all
like this [shielding eyes against the sun, peering into the far distance] . . . “Where’s it gone?” . . . “I dunno” . . . “Did you see it?” All of a sudden
Dennis says: “You see that bush there . . .” So we’re all looking for his ball. Next thing he’s on the green, putting for thirteen – and he writes it down!
“
Thirteen . . .”
Next hole, nine. Next hole, twelve. It’s getting dark! Oh my God, he was really bad! He shot a hundred and eighty-odd. We were like: “How are you
at darts, Dennis?” He shook all our hands, and said, “I really enjoyed that, lads.” We didn’t! He was losing balls all over the place!

‘The following week he comes out, and he’s getting better. This is the sort of man he is. He kept every single card, and he was improving every week, by five, six, seven, eight
shots. I think his wife played a little bit as well, and he started having lessons. He didn’t tell us he was having lessons. And all of a sudden he got the hang of it. He just started picking
it up. He began getting his score down to just over a hundred, then under a hundred. You could see the swing was getting better. It’s just a game, very similar to football, and he worked
hard. He had the eye-hand coordination. He loved golf and knew he could crack it. We used to go every week after training, and you could see him improving. I hate to think what his handicap is now.
With Dennis I think anything he’d do in sport, it would be similar. If he enjoyed the sport, he’d make sure to become good at it. That’s the sort of character he was in football.
He made sure he’d be a top-class player.’

Vic Akers recalls the only time he ever saw Dennis flustered. ‘We used to go and play golf together regularly and on one occasion we went to Woburn. Ian Poulter was there. He’s an
Arsenal fanatic so there was Dennis, Ray, myself, and my son, Paul. We were the last full group going out, and Poulter says: “I’ll come out with you. I’ll play one hole with
you.” Poulter had all these pros with him on the tee, just behind us. And Dennis goes: “I’ve never been so nervous. This is worse than playing in front of seventy or eighty
thousand people.” It’s because he wants to be good at everything. He doesn’t want to be a duffer, you know? And this fantastic professional golfer is watching him. Fortunately, we
all got decent shots off the tee, and we were mighty relieved, but I’ve never seen Dennis in that sort of state before. He was unbelievable. He’d turn up immaculate every time we went
out to golf. He’d turn up with the golf balls immaculate. Everything he did would be professional. Like for training. From the minute he walked in the building, to when he started putting his
kit on, to the minute he changed and went home, everything was perfectly in order.
Everything.
He knew exactly the way he wanted to approach the day. Attention to detail in everything. Not
as a sort of obsessive compulsive, but because he wants to be the best. And it
never
changed. He wanted to achieve the best, and the way he was rubbed off on everyone else.’

* * *

D
ENNIS RECALLS
: ‘There was a golf club next to my house at Hadley Wood, but when I first started living there I couldn’t get in. I said:
“OK, cool, but I really like golf and I would like to be a member.” Then I asked Arsenal and I think they wrote a letter, but I didn’t get in until my last few years in
England.’

Ken Friar says they probably didn’t like the idea of a footballer at the golf club. They thought footballers were loud and drunk and would urinate on the greens or something. He said
he had to pull some strings to get you in.

‘I didn’t know about it. I mean, I could understand they had their reservations but it was a nightmare. You had to be nominated by
nine
members of the club. Then you had to
go for an interview. It was really something else. I just want to play golf! And there’s this fantastic club right next door! Finally, I started playing with some dads from school who were
members and after that it went quite easily to being a member.’

Are Ray and Vic’s stories accurate?

‘Ha ha! I don’t remember exactly like Ray tells it, but his version is better. It’s true I always wanted to look good and in the beginning I couldn’t hit the ball. I mean
I could hit the ball but not like they could. But I was motivated. I really enjoyed the game, and I started working on it. Of course, I’d played a little in Holland, and my wife likes golf as
well, so we played a few times in Italy. They have some good courses. But I didn’t play enough to really improve. Then I got to England. I remember going to Scotland pre-season one year. Most
of the team flew and I went on the bus with Paul Merson and the bus was full of golf bags from all the players. What’s going on here? They all liked golf! Whenever they had a free morning,
they’d play one or two rounds. It was just a matter of taking the first step, but it was difficult because I heard them talking: this one had a handicap of two, that one a handicap of four,
and I’m still playing off thirty-six!

‘Slowly I improved. I played a lot of times with Ray Parlour and Ray knew Ian Poulter. We went sometimes to Woburn as well and I just loved those courses where every hole is a new
challenge, especially those bigger courses when you’re off the green. You go through a pathway to the next hole and it’s totally different, and they change the position of the pin every
week. I just love that! I don’t know if it’s being in nature, or the challenge, or the fact that you can never have a perfect game. You’re playing against yourself. You’re
playing a little bit against the elements, but it’s got a whole mystique . . .’

It seems to be a very spiritual game. The novelist Anne Kinsman Fisher wrote a book called
The Masters of the Spirit
where old golf champions teach life lessons. It’s a game
where you’re competing against yourself and striving for perfection all the time.

‘Right! I’m at a really low level but you find sometimes that you’ve got five or six holes where you really are in some sort of zone, where everything works and you can find
the concentration to hit every ball right. Then you think: “I can play golf!” Then suddenly –
boom!
– it’s gone, it’s totally gone! I can have that in
the middle of a round where I just completely miss-hit the ball. After so many rounds of golf you should be able to at least hit a ball, but then you just top it. Funnily enough, you see the
professionals do it, too. Even Tiger Woods. The other day I saw him completely shank a shot. I really love the game. It’s a challenge . . . In the two years after my career when I was still
in England, I played many rounds by myself t Hadley Wood. No caddy, just carrying the bag myself. All weathers. I’d play in the rain. I just loved being out there.’

There’s a ball, but it’s very different to a football. And there’s no passing, and no team-mates . . .

‘Yes. You’re just trying to get the ball where you want to get it. And to do that is really interesting. So I’d watch a lot of golf on television, on Sky, and sometimes they
would analyse a player’s swing very closely. They’re very good at that . . . and they’ve got the images. They’re very technical about it, so I’d watch and listen to
them, then combine that with my own feelings . . . and that’s how I’d try to improve. And it works, of course. When you do something a lot of times, you definitely improve.’

So here’s a game where nobody is paying you, no one is watching, and nobody knows anything about it. It’s purely your passion – and it sounds like you’re doing it
rather in the same way you do football. Is that right?

‘Yes, that’s why I love to be out there by myself, just self-teaching, on the range. We have some ranges here in Holland and for the first time I took some lessons as well. And Ray
was always funny. One day he said: “I know a course near Bedford. It’s a new course and we’ll play a round for charity.” I said: “OK, I don’t mind, but what kind
of charity is it?” and he’s like: “Oh don’t worry, it’s for my friend.” So we arrive and there are about two hundred to two hundred and fifty people waiting for
us! I said: “Wait a minute. I’m not that good yet.” And Vic’s there and Ray’s already laughing. I think: “All these people are watching, so I’ll take an
iron and play safe.” I was so nervous but it was quite a good shot. “I’m really glad that’s over . . .” Then that whole group of spectators starts following us down
the course! Ray was just laughing all the way, going “Sorry, Dennis!” Fortunately, after a while the spectator group got smaller and smaller, because we really weren’t interesting
to watch if you love golf! By the end they’d all gone. But yes, I got really nervous’.