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George Green was hailed as the new Gazza at Everton, then tried to take his own life... but now a new life in football beckons for the former Toffees prodigy after ending spiral of depression
A couple of months ago, I went to watch a National League North match at Edgeley Park. I was there as a Stockport County fan but the evening was hijacked by a midfield playmaker from Nuneaton Town. He was the only player on either side wearing gloves but that was not the reason he stood out. I found out later his name was George Green.
George was way too good for Stockport that Tuesday night. He was way too good for the league, too. Even I could see within a few minutes that he was meant for a bigger stage than this. I wondered what on earth he was doing here. It was like spotting something glistening in the mud. It was like seeing a diamond in the dirt.
George ran the game for Nuneaton. Technically gifted, his touch was superb. His control under pressure was flawless. The weight of his passes was always just right, even on a difficult surface. He knew when to keep hold of the ball and when to release it. When Nuneaton scored the only goal of the game just before half-time, George set it up.
I got home and looked up George’s statistics. It was obvious straight away that something was wrong. George had been highly rated as a teenager and had represented England at Under-16, U17 and U18 level.
He had played in the same teams as Dele Alli and Ross Barkley. When Everton signed him from Bradford City as a 15-year-old in 2011 for a fee that was projected to rise to £2million, he was inviting comparisons with Paul Gascoigne. But it didn’t work out for him at Everton. It didn’t work out for him at Tranmere Rovers, Oldham Athletic, Burnley, Kilmarnock, Salford City or Viking Stavanger, either. His career looked like a railway timetable and he never stayed in the station long.
He is still only 22 but the career of the lad I’d seen dancing through the gloom looked as if it was heading south fast. I wondered if he had suffered a bad injury that had impeded his progress. I read a bit more.
There were recurring hints of issues with George’s temperament. There were mentions of ‘off-the-field problems’. Contracts were either not renewed or terminated ahead of time.
I met George last week. He strode into a hotel lobby not far from his home in Mirfield, near Dewsbury. He had a rough beard and a ready smile and he wanted to talk about what happened to him. He asked for a cup of coffee and began to tell his story. ‘I want people to see that George is right now,’ he said. ‘I want people to know George is the George that he can be.’
In a way, George has indeed been injured. It’s just that they’re not the kind of injuries you treat with bandages. You don’t take the weight off them with crutches. They’re the kind of problems that Stan Collymore did so much to draw attention to when he began to stimulate awareness of mental health issues within football 20 years ago but our attitudes to them still differ from the way we look at physical problems.
Would we call a player with a snapped cruciate ligament ‘unreliable’ if he failed to turn up to training the day after he was hurt? No. Would we call a player with a broken leg ‘flaky’ if he said he couldn’t play on Saturday? No. And yet, for the past five years, those are the labels George has been struggling with.
‘I have had problems with mental health,’ said George. ‘I’ve suffered from depression and addiction. I was on a downward spiral. From the age of 17 or 18, I knew there was something wrong. People around me knew, but I didn’t want to admit it.
‘While I was at Salford City, I tried to take my own life. That was an overdose. I went on an outrage and decided that was the best idea.
‘I took a lot of paracetamol, anti-depressants and strong pain killers. It was probably a massive cry for attention that I needed help. People knew I needed the help but I knew something serious needed to happen for me to get it.
‘Things weren’t going well at home. I wasn’t sleeping right. I was drinking too much. I’d seen crisis teams in hospital and they had turned me away. I had cut myself countless times and they turned me away, too, so I thought: “What have I got to do to get the proper help?” I was taken into hospital after the overdose. They put me on a drip and flushed it all out of me.
‘It has taken a lot of therapy sessions and going to see psychologists to get me to a better place. One said I was bipolar. In the past year, I have been diagnosed with ADHD and I have been on medication since then and it has been calm. Things have been going well. Home life’s going well, which plays a really important part. Things are on the up now. The medication I’m on keeps me to a level where I can be George Green and go and perform on the pitch and do what I do best. I’m fit again, I’m doing well at Nuneaton, I’m playing games, I have got into Jamie Vardy’s V9 Academy for the summer and I’m attracting interest from clubs in the Football League. I feel a million times better than I have done for a long while.’
George has a troubled back-story. His father died of throat cancer when he was eight. His mother often had to work away to make ends meet. ‘I never felt there was a family unit,’ he said. He has his dad’s date of birth tattooed on his arm next to a poem about cherishing his memory. He didn’t deal properly with the loss as a child and it hit him harder as he grew up.
He didn’t deal well with the label of being the next Gazza, either. ‘If I didn’t make it, I was always going to be the lost boy or the one that got away,’ he said. ‘That played on my mind.’ He developed a talent for falling into bad company. And for going out at the wrong time.
His partner, Charli, with whom he has a two-year old daughter, Daisy, wondered why he was throwing it all away but, through all his troubles, she stood by him. ‘I feel blessed because of her,’ he said.
He is adamant that the cycle of self-destruction has run its course. He and Charli are happy and settled. He is playing a full part in Daisy’s upbringing. And he has had invaluable and ongoing support from Gary Charles, the former Nottingham Forest full-back, who battled alcoholism and now runs a help service called GCSportsCare.
‘I’m lucky to have a person like that round me,’ said George. ‘Without him, I wouldn’t be playing football now. I’d be one of the down and outs. But now I feel a million per cent better. Now I really don’t go out at all. I’ve got my family to look after.
‘It has taken me a long time to realise that those are the things that are important. It’s little things like the smile on Daisy’s face, how happy my partner is when she’s watching me with Daisy. That’s what I get a buzz off now.’
It is difficult to know what the years ahead will bring. George wants it back now, that future that slipped away from him in instalments. He will need to be nurtured carefully by anyone who signs him, but football is getting smarter at doing that. If it sends players to Colorado to get their knees looked at, it can still do more to help those affected by mental health problems, too.
‘The way back in football is going to be gradual,’ said George. ‘People aren’t going to be worried about my talent but they need to know I’m in it for the long haul. I believe now if someone were to offer me a longer deal, I’d see it out. Not like the old George Green. I’ll need support. I know that. That’s a lifelong process. But I still believe in myself.
‘I’m well. I know now I can go on to do good things in football.’
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/fo...n-prodigy-George-Green-new-life-football.html
A couple of months ago, I went to watch a National League North match at Edgeley Park. I was there as a Stockport County fan but the evening was hijacked by a midfield playmaker from Nuneaton Town. He was the only player on either side wearing gloves but that was not the reason he stood out. I found out later his name was George Green.
George was way too good for Stockport that Tuesday night. He was way too good for the league, too. Even I could see within a few minutes that he was meant for a bigger stage than this. I wondered what on earth he was doing here. It was like spotting something glistening in the mud. It was like seeing a diamond in the dirt.
George ran the game for Nuneaton. Technically gifted, his touch was superb. His control under pressure was flawless. The weight of his passes was always just right, even on a difficult surface. He knew when to keep hold of the ball and when to release it. When Nuneaton scored the only goal of the game just before half-time, George set it up.
I got home and looked up George’s statistics. It was obvious straight away that something was wrong. George had been highly rated as a teenager and had represented England at Under-16, U17 and U18 level.
He had played in the same teams as Dele Alli and Ross Barkley. When Everton signed him from Bradford City as a 15-year-old in 2011 for a fee that was projected to rise to £2million, he was inviting comparisons with Paul Gascoigne. But it didn’t work out for him at Everton. It didn’t work out for him at Tranmere Rovers, Oldham Athletic, Burnley, Kilmarnock, Salford City or Viking Stavanger, either. His career looked like a railway timetable and he never stayed in the station long.
He is still only 22 but the career of the lad I’d seen dancing through the gloom looked as if it was heading south fast. I wondered if he had suffered a bad injury that had impeded his progress. I read a bit more.
There were recurring hints of issues with George’s temperament. There were mentions of ‘off-the-field problems’. Contracts were either not renewed or terminated ahead of time.
I met George last week. He strode into a hotel lobby not far from his home in Mirfield, near Dewsbury. He had a rough beard and a ready smile and he wanted to talk about what happened to him. He asked for a cup of coffee and began to tell his story. ‘I want people to see that George is right now,’ he said. ‘I want people to know George is the George that he can be.’
In a way, George has indeed been injured. It’s just that they’re not the kind of injuries you treat with bandages. You don’t take the weight off them with crutches. They’re the kind of problems that Stan Collymore did so much to draw attention to when he began to stimulate awareness of mental health issues within football 20 years ago but our attitudes to them still differ from the way we look at physical problems.
Would we call a player with a snapped cruciate ligament ‘unreliable’ if he failed to turn up to training the day after he was hurt? No. Would we call a player with a broken leg ‘flaky’ if he said he couldn’t play on Saturday? No. And yet, for the past five years, those are the labels George has been struggling with.
‘I have had problems with mental health,’ said George. ‘I’ve suffered from depression and addiction. I was on a downward spiral. From the age of 17 or 18, I knew there was something wrong. People around me knew, but I didn’t want to admit it.
‘While I was at Salford City, I tried to take my own life. That was an overdose. I went on an outrage and decided that was the best idea.
‘I took a lot of paracetamol, anti-depressants and strong pain killers. It was probably a massive cry for attention that I needed help. People knew I needed the help but I knew something serious needed to happen for me to get it.
‘Things weren’t going well at home. I wasn’t sleeping right. I was drinking too much. I’d seen crisis teams in hospital and they had turned me away. I had cut myself countless times and they turned me away, too, so I thought: “What have I got to do to get the proper help?” I was taken into hospital after the overdose. They put me on a drip and flushed it all out of me.
‘It has taken a lot of therapy sessions and going to see psychologists to get me to a better place. One said I was bipolar. In the past year, I have been diagnosed with ADHD and I have been on medication since then and it has been calm. Things have been going well. Home life’s going well, which plays a really important part. Things are on the up now. The medication I’m on keeps me to a level where I can be George Green and go and perform on the pitch and do what I do best. I’m fit again, I’m doing well at Nuneaton, I’m playing games, I have got into Jamie Vardy’s V9 Academy for the summer and I’m attracting interest from clubs in the Football League. I feel a million times better than I have done for a long while.’
George has a troubled back-story. His father died of throat cancer when he was eight. His mother often had to work away to make ends meet. ‘I never felt there was a family unit,’ he said. He has his dad’s date of birth tattooed on his arm next to a poem about cherishing his memory. He didn’t deal properly with the loss as a child and it hit him harder as he grew up.
He didn’t deal well with the label of being the next Gazza, either. ‘If I didn’t make it, I was always going to be the lost boy or the one that got away,’ he said. ‘That played on my mind.’ He developed a talent for falling into bad company. And for going out at the wrong time.
His partner, Charli, with whom he has a two-year old daughter, Daisy, wondered why he was throwing it all away but, through all his troubles, she stood by him. ‘I feel blessed because of her,’ he said.
He is adamant that the cycle of self-destruction has run its course. He and Charli are happy and settled. He is playing a full part in Daisy’s upbringing. And he has had invaluable and ongoing support from Gary Charles, the former Nottingham Forest full-back, who battled alcoholism and now runs a help service called GCSportsCare.
‘I’m lucky to have a person like that round me,’ said George. ‘Without him, I wouldn’t be playing football now. I’d be one of the down and outs. But now I feel a million per cent better. Now I really don’t go out at all. I’ve got my family to look after.
‘It has taken me a long time to realise that those are the things that are important. It’s little things like the smile on Daisy’s face, how happy my partner is when she’s watching me with Daisy. That’s what I get a buzz off now.’
It is difficult to know what the years ahead will bring. George wants it back now, that future that slipped away from him in instalments. He will need to be nurtured carefully by anyone who signs him, but football is getting smarter at doing that. If it sends players to Colorado to get their knees looked at, it can still do more to help those affected by mental health problems, too.
‘The way back in football is going to be gradual,’ said George. ‘People aren’t going to be worried about my talent but they need to know I’m in it for the long haul. I believe now if someone were to offer me a longer deal, I’d see it out. Not like the old George Green. I’ll need support. I know that. That’s a lifelong process. But I still believe in myself.
‘I’m well. I know now I can go on to do good things in football.’
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/fo...n-prodigy-George-Green-new-life-football.html
