- Former Newcastle striker Kluivert has opened up on his love for Geordie nightlife
- He has also revealed why he ended his legendary playing career at the age of 31
- IAN LADYMAN reveals the GREATEST weapon a manager has against a journalist – Listen to It’s All Kicking Off
It was beneath a late autumn sun that, just a fortnight ago, we found Patrick Kluivert by the scorched banks of the Seyhan, with the grand Sabanci Mosque blaring back across Turkey’s longest river. Little did we know at the time, but he should have picked up a prayer mat and waded through those shallow waters.
This was his first job in management, with Adana Demirspor, an ambitious club with a wealthy owner. The night before, Mail Sport had dinner with the sporting director, Alper Aslan, a lovely chap who spoke well of Kluivert. While we scoffed humous and the world famous Adana kebab, there was an engagement on a table nearby. Was, however, a divorce from Kluivert being plotted all along? It did not feel that way. Spirits were high and so were Adana, third in the Turkish Super Lig. Kluivert was just 145 days into his new role. He would not make 160.
Sitting poolside at the Sheraton Hotel the following afternoon, the Dutch legend, 47, barely looked a day older than the night, aged 18, he became the youngest scorer ever in a Champions League final, his winner for Ajax over AC Milan rocketing him to stardom. Now, he wanted to ‘fly under the radar’.
‘The ambition is to go higher. I want to be in the Premier League, but I can get my kilometres here,’ he said, unaware that this road was nearing its end.
A cat had jumped onto his lap and there she remained, listening intently to stories of a fabled career. ’She wants to be my girlfriend, yes?’ he said, although the relationship would later end after he threw his arms in the air, wondering how his generation never won a World Cup or European Championship.
But, for now, all is calm. Mario Balotelli, his striker and fellow Sheraton resident, is out of town. Come on, then, who has the best room? ‘Him!’ said Kluivert. ‘Let’s be honest, he has the penthouse!’
Balotelli, you assume, is perfect for a crash-course in management. Later that week, he crashed his car in Italy after returning home for knee surgery. Point proven, quite literally.
‘He is particular, special, all his coaches would say the same,’ said Kluivert. ‘You have to know how to handle him, but he is a fantastic person.’
Kluivert spoke for close to five minutes, uninterrupted and with fervour, on the psychology of footballers. Maybe the psychology of football club owners should be his next passion.
‘To get under the skin of the player is the nicest thing to achieve. But you have to speak to them differently, to tailor your communication, and that gives me fascination. But also, does the player have the football intelligence you’d expect? Because my level is probably a little bit higher, I have to make sure he understands me.’
What about discipline, any need for curfews to keep the likes of Balotelli in line?
‘I’m not a police officer! The players also have to take responsibility.’
He was being modest when he said his level was perhaps a ‘little bit higher’. Kluivert, the player, stood for pedigree, excellence.
‘You can say that, but I won’t, I don’t like that,’ he said, and he was not being confrontational. ‘I played with the best players in the world and I hope that I was one of them, and that they would say the same about me.’
Mail Sport columnist Graeme Souness did not see peak Kluivert when he managed him at Newcastle, but recognised his innate ability. Souness had told me to say hello and remarked that Kluivert was the best volleyer of a ball he had ever seen. It made the recipient smile.
‘Wow, that’s good, because he has seen a lot of players! Even Shearer! It was a pleasure to work with Graeme. He was such a warm person, very honest. If you’re s***, he’d say so!’
Kluivert was not ’s***’ at Newcastle, either, he just wasn’t the same player who had returned 25 goals in three straight seasons for Barcelona. He netted 13 times in his one season at St James’ Park, including the winners in the 5th and 6th rounds of the FA Cup against Chelsea and Tottenham. So good was his header versus the former, it was used in the movie Goal! the following year.
‘They have to pay me royalties, no? Ah, I have only happy memories. It’s a great city and I love to see what is happening now. We had a good team, too, you know, and a great camaraderie. (Kieron) Dyer, (Jermaine) Jenas, Bellamy… my man, Craig! The restaurants, the nightlife… Stereo, Julie’s, Osborne Road.’
The 3am boys and the 3am venues. Kluivert, though, had been lured to Newcastle by the people. It is the stuff of folklore on Tyneside, the night St James’ rose to applaud the Barcelona striker when he was substituted having scored in a 2-0 Champions League win.
‘I thought, “Wow. What is going on?”. It gave me goosebumps, a special feeling. The home crowd, doing that for me? In that moment, we had a connection. I have such a warm heart for this club.’
But, in truth, Kluivert’s body was beginning to run cold, even at 28. He’d had a decade at the very top. There were later spells at Valencia, PSV and Lille, before retirement aged 31. The irony is that he looks like he could still play now.
’I join in the rondos. And those volleys? They’re still spot on. But the long runs, forget it!’
He accepts with good grace the subject of his decline.
‘I’d had lots of little operations on my knees, which is never good. If things are not going the way you plan in your head, it’s hard. When I was into my 30s…’
He sighs, before candidly admitting: ‘I could not be bothered. It’s the most beautiful game there is. But when you start it early and play at the top, and you’re mind feels at the top but you know your body is not, it’s not a good feeling. But come on, I’m very happy for my career the way it is.’
And so he should be. It was in 1995 that Kluivert came from the bench in the 70th minute of the Champions League final with the game against Milan goalless. What followed was beautiful.
‘Beautiful? No, it was super ugly!’ he booms. The cat stirs but stays to hear the story of the goal that changed Kluivert’s life.
‘Frank Rijkaard played me in and I managed to poke the ball, with the top of my toe, through Rossi and into the corner. I stood up, ran away and felt all the players hugging me. If you see the footage, I am hitting the players off me, because I couldn’t breathe! A boy, scoring the winning goal in the Champions League final, you can imagine what that does to you.
‘When we came back to Amsterdam, the airline brought my mother to the steps of the plane. The door went open and there she was, “Waaahh!”. I was crying like a little child!’
His mother, Lidwina, passed away earlier this year. She had played a part in that goal.
‘Before we left for Vienna, she took Louis van Gaal by his face and said, “Listen. I know what you’re going to do (start Patrick on the bench), but I’m telling you, my son is going to score”. Luckily, he listened!’
Kluivert was reunited with Van Gaal at Barcelona in 1998.
‘It was like stepping into a bath of warm water. Rivaldo and Figo either side of me? It was easy! If you make the right run, they just put it there for you.’
Later, there was Ronaldinho, his favourite team-mate. But only one La Liga in six years?
‘I scored lots of goals, we got far in the Champions League, but I really would have appreciated more titles. Maybe it was because of the others, Valencia, Real Madrid… the Galacticos were good!’
An even greater mystery is how his Holland team did not win anything. But he must get sick of that question?
‘Yes, I do!’ he bellows, and so his feline friend departs. ‘But it’s a fair question. At the World Cup in 98, everyone I speak to – everyone! – says, “You were the best team”. We felt that as well. It was our time.’
Holland’s 2-1 quarter-final victory over Argentina in Marseille, in which Kluivert scored, is one of the most iconic World Cup matches ever.
‘Absolutely. The colours of the jerseys, the stadium, the sun. Two red cards. And Bergkamp’s goal, phwoar. That goal, it runs over the whole world, man.’
Where were you when he pulled the ball from the sky?
‘I was running into the box, shouting for it! He was like, “No, no. I’m putting it in the net, my friend”. He could have pulled it back! I said, “OK, good job, well done!”.’
And so to a semi-final with Brazil.
‘We should have won. 1-0 behind to Ronaldo. Then, right at the end, the cross from Ronald de Boer comes towards me. I thought, “This is mine”. Boom! 1-1.’
This is a question asked later, but if he could pick up his phone and watch any of his goals right now, which would it be?
‘The header in the semi-final. I love that goal.’
Holland, though, were beaten on penalties. Kluivert was due to take the fifth but it never got that far. Two years later, at Euro 2000 in the Netherlands, Kluivert was the only scorer in a semi-final shootout defeat by Italy, having missed one of two Holland spot-kicks in normal time. The Dutch had also lost on pens at Euro 92 and Euro 96.
‘Always penalties. I don’t know why. We deserved a trophy. It’s a bitter feeling.’
Yes, Patrick, we know that feeling.
Kluivert has four sons. Three of them are footballers.
‘If we’re making a family 5-a-side team, I’m still outfield, just! Quincy, my oldest boy, he’d be in goal. Justin (24) is at Bournemouth. Reuben (22) is a defender in Holland. Then I have my little one, Shane, who is at Barcelona Under-17s.
‘It’s funny, when we play in the garden, it’s so competitive. I’m sweating my ass off! They want to show their skills, to each other and to me. But they get on so well, always connected even though they’re not always together. For me, that is the most important.’
Justin recently scored his first Premier League goal but Shane, in time, could be the best Kluivert of them all?
‘He “could” be. He is the most dedicated. For a father, and also my father, it is so beautiful to see. I didn’t push them, either. They fell into it. It’s not easy, because they have “Kluivert” on the back. It gives an extra dimension, an expectation.’
They could just go with Shane or Justin on the shirt?
‘What? No, I like it there! They’re handling it well.’
Kluivert was taking his coaches to dinner that night but, before leaving, he joked about my own managerial prospects. I’d told him I had a crunch fixture in charge of my son’s Under-8s team, who had lost 5-1 last time out.
‘Oh, you could get sacked?! If you don’t win the next one… “See you, dad!”.’
While we won the next one, Kluivert and Adana drew and then lost. He was sacked on Monday with the team in fifth. Maybe it will be management that finally ages him.
Olivia Martin is a dedicated sports journalist based in the UK. With a passion for various athletic disciplines, she covers everything from major league championships to local sports events, delivering up-to-the-minute updates and in-depth analysis.
