Professional footballers are not role models for young men, regardless of what the FA thinks about Rio Ferdinand. Well, generally, they're not very good ones at least. So all credit to Saido Berahino, who's dedicated his first senior England call up to his mum…
How lovely is the following statement from the West Brom striker?
"Now we have achieved something together and I can share this moment with her."
This from a young man who arrived in the UK a decade ago seeking asylum from the civil war in Burundi. His father died in that conflict and Berahino was once booked in an England under-21 game for celebrating a goal by revealing his t-shirt inscribed with.
"RIP love u dad"
Football hasn't been a working class sport since shortly after the dawn of the Premier League era. In a borough (Islington) that's in the top 5% most deprived areas in the country, Arsenal charges more than £1,000 for its cheapest season ticket. The club's most expensive match-day ticket costs £97. It costs £46 per month to join Sky and take the sports package.
But grass-roots participation in football is still overwhelmingly a working class affair. Moving slightly eastwards from Islington, a Sunday morning visit to Hackney Marshes will leave you in no doubt as to the socio-economic demographic of the players. Or the referees. Or the people running the burger vans.
It's not uncommon at all, then, for professional footballers to come from urban, deprived, often single parent backgrounds - albeit usually for less tragic and less violent reasons than Saido Berahino.
From the ages of 10 to 15, I was a member of Millwall Football Club's Centre of Excellence. My coach throughout was Les Briley, who made more than 200 appearances for the South London side during a 7-year spell. He led them to the old Second Division title in 1988. 'Sir Les', as he's known by Millwall fans, was a window cleaner when he wasn't telling us to kick it long and tackle hard.
I grew up on a council estate in Islington. I was raised by a single mother on benefits. For 5 years, she took me backwards and forwards to Southwark (Tuesdays and Thursdays for training) and Bromley (Sunday mornings for home games) so that I could try to become a professional footballer. Never mind the away games, midweek school games and Saturday afternoon matches for my district and county sides. Never mind the football boots, the bags, the kits, the tracksuits.
And never mind that I have an older brother for whom she did the exact same thing. Every single week for 7 years. After centre of excellence spells with Leyton Orient, Wimbledon (the original one) and Millwall, my brother secured an apprenticeship contract with Coventry City - then in the Premier League under Gordon Strachan. As a goalkeeper, bad timing meant that with Magnus Headman as the club's number 1 and Chris Kirkland in the age group above, he never made it as a professional.
After 5 years, I was released by Millwall at the age of 15 with a 1-line letter thanking me for my attendance and informing me that I hadn't made the grade. An unsuccessful trial with Watford followed. Cue 3 months of driving me to and from Watford 3 times a week.
She'd only learned to drive, at the age of 35, so that she could ferry us around the country to matches instead of relying on lifts and public transport. She bought a second-hand, D-reg Ford Escort for £500. It was awful. The image of her stamping on the accelerator whilst repeatedly pulling the choke sticks in the memory, as does the time it refused to start on a freezing cold Sunday morning. We were playing Chelsea away (their training ground was out by Heathrow) and were giving 3 teammates a lift.
Like Saido Berahino's mum, this woman "sacrificed everything" so that I could play football. And I, like the vast majority of centre of excellence attendees, never got near a professional football contract. For every Berahino, there are thousands of Mehmets.
What an incredible feeling it must be for Mrs Berahino to see her son at the top of his profession. And to have him publicly recognise and thank her for the sacrifices she made to get him there. In Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell says:
“Who we are cannot be separated from where we're from.”
It's nice when successful people remain grounded enough to remember that.
Well done Mr Berahino, good on you.