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Authors: Paul Gascoigne
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season was a good one for me: I played twenty-four games and scored five goals, though I was out for a while with a groin strain. And at the end of that season, I was picked for the England Under-21 team. It was my first representative honour and it made up for the fact that I never played for England Schoolboys, which I won’t mention ever again.
I was selected for an Under-21 tournament in Toulon. It was the first time I’d ever been abroad, and for many years afterwards I used to wind people up by claiming that Toulon was the capital of France, because that was the only place in France I’d ever been to.
It was also the first time I’d ever been in anaeroplane. I was shit-scared, convinced that the thing would crash and I would die. I had a couple of brandies beforehand to give me Dutch courage, but I was still worried about getting on the plane. The England doctor had to take me by the hand and physically lead me on board – and even then I held his hand for most of the flight, like a little boy, as I was still shaking so much.
Our first game was against Morocco, and I scored with a free kick. It was not only our first goal but the first goal of the whole tournament. We beat Morocco 2–0, so it was a good start, but the biggest pleasure for me was having been able to pay for my dad and a couple of his mates to come out to Toulon to watch me play and then enjoy a fishing holiday. I felt happy that I could at last pay back my dad in some way for all his support.
I was so excited during the trip that I could hardly sleep. Instead I used to go to other players’ bedrooms at night, to talk to them, see what they were doing. For some reason, it didn’t seem to please them.
I played in the draw against Russia, but then I got ’flu and missed the game against France, who beat us 2–0. I was back for the match with Portugal, which finished in a goalless draw. We ended up fifth in the tournament, which was disappointing.
Back in Newcastle for the 1987–8 season, one of the big thrills was the arrival of Mirandinha, the first Brazilian to play in England. On his first day at training, we all stood in a line and shook hands with him, one by one. After I’d taken my turn to welcome him, I nipped along the back of the line and rejoined it at the end to shake his hand again. He must have thought there was a set of Gascoigne twins playing for his new club.
I took it upon myself to teach Mirandinha English, starting with the days of the week. The lads tested him afterwards every day to see if he’d got them right. When it came to Wednesday, and the players asked him what day it was, he said ‘Wankday’. The lads were practically in tears.
He played his first game away against Norwich. Hundreds of Geordies made the long trek to Norfolk wearing sombrero-type straw hats. Our Brazilian took a free kick from about sixty yards out and tried to score and all the fans went wild. He always tried to score, wherever he was: the one word I never got him to understand was ‘pass’. In his next away game, at Manchester United, he scored two goals.
Mirandinha was given a sponsored car when hejoined the club, a VW Golf GTi. One day I asked him if I could borrow it. As yet he didn’t really know much about me, except that I was in the team, so he agreed and I went out for a spin in it with Jimmy. As we were driving along we happened to pass a lad from Dunston we both knew, in his car, someone who always thought he was right flash. So I decided to race him, overtaking him as fast as I could and speeding away from him. Unfortunately, moments later I braked too quickly at a corner and went straight through a fence into a field.
Next day at training, Mirandinha asked for his car back. I said, ‘Car? Car? What car?’ Eventually, I took him to it – still stuck in the fence, its back wheels almost touching the front wheels. Despite all that, I got my own sponsored club car not long afterwards.
I felt a bit guilty about what I’d
I was selected for an Under-21 tournament in Toulon. It was the first time I’d ever been abroad, and for many years afterwards I used to wind people up by claiming that Toulon was the capital of France, because that was the only place in France I’d ever been to.
It was also the first time I’d ever been in anaeroplane. I was shit-scared, convinced that the thing would crash and I would die. I had a couple of brandies beforehand to give me Dutch courage, but I was still worried about getting on the plane. The England doctor had to take me by the hand and physically lead me on board – and even then I held his hand for most of the flight, like a little boy, as I was still shaking so much.
Our first game was against Morocco, and I scored with a free kick. It was not only our first goal but the first goal of the whole tournament. We beat Morocco 2–0, so it was a good start, but the biggest pleasure for me was having been able to pay for my dad and a couple of his mates to come out to Toulon to watch me play and then enjoy a fishing holiday. I felt happy that I could at last pay back my dad in some way for all his support.
I was so excited during the trip that I could hardly sleep. Instead I used to go to other players’ bedrooms at night, to talk to them, see what they were doing. For some reason, it didn’t seem to please them.
I played in the draw against Russia, but then I got ’flu and missed the game against France, who beat us 2–0. I was back for the match with Portugal, which finished in a goalless draw. We ended up fifth in the tournament, which was disappointing.
Back in Newcastle for the 1987–8 season, one of the big thrills was the arrival of Mirandinha, the first Brazilian to play in England. On his first day at training, we all stood in a line and shook hands with him, one by one. After I’d taken my turn to welcome him, I nipped along the back of the line and rejoined it at the end to shake his hand again. He must have thought there was a set of Gascoigne twins playing for his new club.
I took it upon myself to teach Mirandinha English, starting with the days of the week. The lads tested him afterwards every day to see if he’d got them right. When it came to Wednesday, and the players asked him what day it was, he said ‘Wankday’. The lads were practically in tears.
He played his first game away against Norwich. Hundreds of Geordies made the long trek to Norfolk wearing sombrero-type straw hats. Our Brazilian took a free kick from about sixty yards out and tried to score and all the fans went wild. He always tried to score, wherever he was: the one word I never got him to understand was ‘pass’. In his next away game, at Manchester United, he scored two goals.
Mirandinha was given a sponsored car when hejoined the club, a VW Golf GTi. One day I asked him if I could borrow it. As yet he didn’t really know much about me, except that I was in the team, so he agreed and I went out for a spin in it with Jimmy. As we were driving along we happened to pass a lad from Dunston we both knew, in his car, someone who always thought he was right flash. So I decided to race him, overtaking him as fast as I could and speeding away from him. Unfortunately, moments later I braked too quickly at a corner and went straight through a fence into a field.
Next day at training, Mirandinha asked for his car back. I said, ‘Car? Car? What car?’ Eventually, I took him to it – still stuck in the fence, its back wheels almost touching the front wheels. Despite all that, I got my own sponsored club car not long afterwards.
I felt a bit guilty about what I’d
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