Ben Torode

When Paul Merson left Aston Villa in 2002, he genuinely thought he still had another year of Premier League football left in him. Instead, Villa paid him £100,000 to go. Merson drove home devastated, sat on the sofa and cried, with no idea where he was going to play next. Then the phone rang. It was Harry Redknapp. “I’m in charge at Pompey now, son.” “Are they any good?” Harry did not exactly oversell it. “They’re f****** s***, son.” “They finish in the bottom half every year, they always have to win one of their last games to stay up.” “I’ve come in and I can’t believe how s*** they are.” But Redknapp had cleared most of the squad out, brought in a load of free transfers and wanted Merson to join him. “Come down, I’ll make you captain and we’ll have a right f****** go.” The problem was that Merson had remarried, had twins in Birmingham and had no interest in moving the family down to Portsmouth or travelling to the coast for training every day. Harry found a way around that as well. “Don’t work Mondays, don’t work Wednesdays and don’t work Fridays.” “Just make sure you turn it on for me when Saturday comes.” The wages were going to be much lower than Merson had been earning at Villa. “Well, that’s William Hill’s loss, not mine.” “Let them worry about that.” “Gaffer, I’ll sign.” Merson had spent his career at clubs where the players were looked after. At Portsmouth, he suddenly found himself taking his own training gear home every night and washing it. That lasted until Kev the kit man came up with a proposition. For £50 a week, Kev would do all of a player’s laundry. Merson thought £50 a week sounded a bit steep. But there was something in his Portsmouth contract that gave him an idea. He had taken a huge pay cut to sign, but if Pompey won promotion to the Premier League, he would receive a £250,000 bonus. After Harry’s introduction to the club, Merson did not think there was much chance of that happening anyway. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, mate.” “If you wash my kit for the rest of the season for nothing, I’ll give you ten grand if we go up.” Merson thought he had got himself a brilliant deal. Kev nearly bit his hand off. Pompey beat Nottingham Forest 2-0 in his first game, and Merson could not believe the noise at Fratton Park. The following week at Crystal Palace was rather less convincing. Pompey were 2-0 down at half-time and had been battered. Merson walked off wondering what he had done. “What the f*** have I done coming here?” “Don’t tell me it’s one of them ones where we win one week and get battered the next…” Harry changed the system at half-time, moved Merson into a free role behind two strikers and Portsmouth came back to win 3-2 with a last-minute goal. The wins kept coming. And every time Merson walked into training, there was Kev. “As the campaign got underway and the team went on a winning streak, he’d come into training every day with a smile on his face.” “He could smell his money.” By now, the £10,000 laundry bet was looking considerably less clever. Portsmouth won the First Division title by six points. Merson collected the £250,000 promotion bonus he had barely considered possible when he signed. And somewhere along the way, Kev had earned himself £10,000 for washing one man’s football kit. “It was official: Pompey’s kit man was running the most expensive laundry in the world.” “The tragic thing was, I was his best customer.” #football