I've played for England; I've been lucky enough to do this for a long time. So why can't you do it with a smile on your face?Collection: Smile
It's nice when you can enjoy yourself and make people smile.Collection: Smile
If you're good enough, you're old enough: that's what everyone says. When a talented young player emerges, his age doesn't matter; people want to see him in the team. So why, when you become older, is the assumption that you are no longer good enough?
The kit man is the heartbeat of the football club, really. He knows the lads. He's usually local, a fan, and he's got his finger on the pulse of the dressing room.
I once bought an ill-advised half cashmere, half camel hair jumper for £800, then ruined it by spilling a pint of Guinness all over it.
Ronaldo, the Brazilian one - incredible player. I met him once. I was in Ibiza on holiday and quite by chance ran into him in a club. He's the only man I'd go up to and ask for a picture. And I did.
I've been promoted, relegated, won big trophies, gone months without scoring, played for my country at World Cups, been bought, sold, loaned, and called 'a freak.'
Heading is a skill, and it would be a shame to lose that from the game. There is nothing more dramatic than when you see someone score a diving header, for instance.
I wouldn't want to get my pigeon chest out in front of anyone. I don't think the world needs it. I'd probably get a yellow card anyway.
Everyone that I have taken the mick out of, or told a story about, is someone I know properly or someone who has been a team-mate, and I know can take it. I am not stitching anyone up.
I don't know why, but if I was walking down the street, the same people who called me freak would probably ask for a picture. It's a real strange thing.
I'll have an omelette, porridge, and fruit for breakfast at the training ground, then chicken, pasta and soup for lunch; then I can relax in the evening.
So many kids want to be football players, and to still feel like I'm living the dream at 37 is amazing.
I was a million miles from being a Premier League player. You see some people, at 18 they are ready. At 21, I wasn't. Physically nowhere near.
Right from school, I got mockery for the way I look. I took it to heart early on. I admit there were times when I doubted myself.
I got booed by my own fans when I came on in my first game for England. You go through things that are ridiculous. But you get to the stage you realise everyone's got an opinion.
I was always quite technical as a player, but when you are the size I am, if you are crap in the air, it is going to look bad.
I have really got into watching the unsigned bands. They play mad venues like the Sugarmill in Stoke and all sorts of underground, grimy places.
A little voice keeps telling me an Aston Martin really isn't me, but a louder voice is telling me that, as an England international playing for Liverpool, the old rules no longer apply.
You should never get ahead of yourself car-wise; no Merc when you're still in the youth team, no Porsche unless you're a Premier League regular.
I once walked out of a nightclub with my team-mates to see our star midfielder reclining across the bonnet of a Ferrari, arms folded, waiting for girls to come out so he could wink at them and then progress it from there. I have no idea how long he'd been waiting. I do know it wasn't even his Ferrari.
Because of how I looked, there was definitely a prejudice against me. People didn't think I could play. I could see why: I weighed about eight stone and was six foot bleeding seven.
Nothing can prepare you fully for how harsh football fans can be, but it makes you more robust, able to deal with a lot of what is thrown at you in life.
If you're different in any way at school,then you're going to get a bit of abuse. You learn to deal with it in a way where people don't come back at you again.
People tend to assume I was terribly self-conscious about my height. In fact, I've always been perfectly comfortable with the way I am. And if anyone gave me any stick, they soon found I was quite capable of giving it back.
I'm very aware that you lead a very peculiar existence as a professional footballer, being flown everywhere first-class and never having to queue up for anything. Of course, that's attractive, but if you're not careful, you end up living in a world where nothing is really real.
I think it's helped me that I've always been very grounded, very down to earth. Lots of my friends are people I've known from school, and when I'm away from football, they're the ones who I knock about with.
Even when I was at the top, playing in the Champions League final for Liverpool and playing at the World Cup for England, I've never let it go to my head.
If you go from being a kid at school to being on £60,000 a week, that can be hard to deal with. I didn't have that, and maybe that's kept me a bit more grounded than some players.
Looking around at the faces of the home support at Gillingham, the irony was never lost on me that these people had the cheek to call me a 'freak.' Perhaps they should have taken a look at themselves first.
I know I can play, but people who haven't seen me and look at me on a football pitch think, 'He's tall, and he's there to head the ball.'