Holden McGroin 6783 Posted October 4, 2010 Share Posted October 4, 2010 How can an average foobtaller be worth £2m ?? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest Tuco Ramirez Posted October 4, 2010 Share Posted October 4, 2010 How can an average foobtaller be worth £2m ?? Especially when you think someone like Peter Beardsley probably isn't. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JonTheMag 4 Posted October 4, 2010 Share Posted October 4, 2010 How can an average foobtaller be worth £2m ?? Especially when you think someone like Peter Beardsley probably isn't. Just going on that, its really unsettling that players who were incredible 10-30 years ago made less than below average footballers do now. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tinofbeans 91 Posted October 5, 2010 Share Posted October 5, 2010 Etheringtons a good player but seems to have been on the take for a number of seasons because of his gambling.... seems stoke gave him a new contract fairly recently and he had to take some money up front. (not fit to tie beardo's laces btw as a footballer) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ohhh_yeah 2991 Posted April 27, 2014 Share Posted April 27, 2014 How the fuck can someone like Gillespie be bankrupt? What a clown. Answers! I found answers. October 1, 2010. The television announcer reads in a sombre tone over a montage of clips from my career. “The news that football star Keith Gillespie had been declared bankrupt came in the High Court today. “An order was made against the former Manchester United and Newcastle United winger following a petition by HM Revenue and Customs Commissioners over a £137,000 tax bill. “The 35-year-old spent much of his career in England, having played for Manchester United, Newcastle, Blackburn Rovers, Leicester City and Sheffield United. He also won 86 caps for Northern Ireland...” “Where did it all go wrong? Isn’t that what a hotel porter once said to George Best? I’ve been asked the same question more than once but, unlike George, I don’t have Miss World and stacks of cash lying next to me. It’s usually posed by a drunken stranger in far less glamorous surroundings. At Blackburn, the dressing room comedians christened me “Bestie” alright, but that was more a reference to my roguish tendencies than the playing ability. The name stuck with me, up to and beyond George’s death in 2005. I’ve led a colourful life. I doubt that anyone who crossed my path would describe me as a clean living, model pro. I liked a drink, learned to smoke, and swear by an unhealthy diet. I’ve read what alcoholism did to footballers such as George and Paul McGrath, and I’m grateful to have avoided the affliction of that terrible disease. This man was susceptible to other urges. They didn’t cost me my health, but they almost cost me everything else. How much money did I blow? One afternoon, I figured it out. It’s the closest I’ve come to therapy... until I realised that I actually needed therapy. Working out the bonuses was the hard part - the signing-on fees, the appearance money, the inducements. At Newcastle, we received £50,000 a head for coming second in the league, which was huge money in 1996. By the time I moved onto Blackburn, the globalisation of the Premier League had inflated the wages and the incentives. We earned £1,500 per league point, so two wins on the trot could be worth an extra £9,000. And if you scored a few goals along the way, it helped. So, the calculations took a while. Eventually, we reached a club by club consensus. It went like this... Manchester United £60,000 Newcastle £1,102,000 (plus £250,000 in bonuses) Blackburn £3,510,000 (plus £400,000 in bonuses) Leicester £1,050,000 (plus £40,000 in bonuses) Sheffield United £670,000 (plus £75,000 in bonuses) Bradford £15,000 Glentoran £43,875 Total £7,215,875 A substantial amount of cash, eh? And that’s only a conservative sketch of the incomings. It doesn’t include boot deals, promotional appearances, Northern Ireland match fees, libel settlements and all the other elements that come with the territory. Gambling emptied my pockets. Yet gambling meant nothing to me until I moved to Manchester as an apprentice. My addiction started innocently. It was another lazy afternoon in the apprentice digs and Colin McKee announced that he was going to the bookies - a Ladbrokes at the end of our road. With nothing better to do, I tagged along. What harm? I follow Colin’s lead and start small; we are apprentice footballers earning just £46 a week. I take the slip of paper, scribble down a £1 win bet and walk to the counter. I join the group of eyes trained on the screen, and mutter under my breath a horse other than mine is called the winner. I lose money, but don’t care. The thrill is worth it. I bet on the next race - £2 win this time. I feel a rush of adrenaline when it comes into shot, but another horse is going better. Foiled again, but it doesn’t matter. I want that rush of excitement again. The next day, I returned to the bookies on my own. And the day after, and the day after that... until the days that stand out are the ones where I didn’t go. On Sunday, October 29, 1995, I should have been the happiest man in the world. I was on top of my game, top of the league with Newcastle, and received the ultimate compliment from two of the people I respected most in football, Kevin Keegan and Peter Beardsley. “That lad there could just be the best player in the country at this time, Keegan said. “I wouldn’t disagree,” Pedro replied. I had produced a man of the match display at White Hart Lane... after a destructive 48 hours of gambling that had plunged me into serious debt. I had blown £62,000 - a year’s wages. The majority of the losses had been incurred on Friday, October 27, 1995. My Black Friday. I completely lost the plot. I had grown into one of bookmaker Mickey Arnott’s most prized customers. My favourite bet was a £500 punt on four horses. I’d split them up into four £100 trebles and a £100 accumulator. If one of those came off, Mickey might have £6,000 or £7,000 for me. They were the rare good days. Generally, though, I was the one paying up. Before Black Friday, I’d never lost more than £10,000 in one day. There was moderate flat card at Newmarket, and jumps racing at Bangor and Wetherby. The 2.05 at Newmarket - £1,000 on a horse called Quandary from the all-conquering Henry Cecil stable. He won, but there was no time to dwell on it. I picked up the phone to Mickey’s office and had a punt on the 2.10 at Wetherby. No joy. The 2.20 at Bangor. Loser. Then it was time for Newmarket again, and the sequence continued. I suffered a bout of seconditis. I appreciated a good each-way bet. But on this afternoon, I was betting on the nose, and chasing losses. I upped the stakes to £4,000 a race and got one up. Then stuck another £4,000 on the next and lost it. From then, it was £4,000 on everything. I wasn’t keeping record of how I was doing - that was the danger of betting with invisible money - but I knew I was having a nightmare. The last race of the day, the 4.40 at Bangor, was a National Hunt flat race for horses with little or no racecourse experience - a shot in the dark unless you were in the know. Just two and a half hours after a relatively sensible bet on a good thing at Newmarket, I was sticking £4,000 on a 12/1 shot called Dream Ride. He finished 10th, some 40 lengths behind. I had a few blind stabs on the greyhounds until there was nothing left to bet on. I called Mickey. “What’s the damage?” “You lost £47,000 today.” I lay in bed that night restless, thinking about how to win some of my money back the next day. In the morning, I laid down a variety of bets on the horses and football. There was no mention of the day before. My bets were accepted, no questions asked. I lost another £15,000. Eventually, the story of my Black Friday got out. At first I denied it to Terry McDermott. I sorted Mickey out with a few thousand over the winter. But then it broke in the press. I told my mum. “How much? Thousands? £10,000? More?” “£47,000”. “Aack, son.” I rang the gaffer, Kevin Keegan. I’ll never forget how understanding he was. He let me stay and have some food while he rang Mickey and got it sorted. My saving grace was that I was due a new contract because of my form, a £5,500 a week deal that would rise by £500 every season. The five-fold pay increase eased the burden. Keegan spoke to the club’s hierarchy and organised an advance on the signing-on fee. It was that straightforward. The one thing the gaffer was really annoyed about was that I hadn’t owned up to Terry. When I showed my face at training, the welcome was less sympathetic. The lads were pissing themselves. There was no arm around the shoulder; the unforgiving rules of the dressing room applied and, to be absolutely honest, I was glad of the banter. They seemed to be more amused by the fact that I’d backed a horse called Dream Ride. Two days before Black Friday, I nearly won over £40,000 on betting on a football match - our League Cup tie away to Stoke. A regular at the bookies pointed out that, under Keegan, we commonly won games 2-0, 2-1, 3-0 or 3-1. Pedro hadn’t scored for a few games, so I stuck £500 on him to score first at 6/1. I then placed four £500 doubles, with Pedro to score first paired with final scorelines of 2-0, 2-1, 3-0, and 3-1. We took an early lead, courtesy of none other than Peter Beardsley, who must have wondered why I was so excited. We were cruising, and I was running around the pitch calculating my winnings. When our defence switched off, and their main striker, Paul Peschisolido, raced through on goal, I quickly calculated that the odds for 3-1 were better, and willed him to score but he tried a lob and failed miserably. Still, I was well on course for a win of around £50,000 as the game entered the final five minutes. Then, a remarkable thing happened. Darren Peacock ventured forward. Darren averaged a goal a season in his four years at Newcastle. When a loose ball fell in Darren’s direction, I reckoned it was a good thing. Wrong. 4-0. The other lads raced to celebrate a collector’s item. I couldn’t bring myself to join in. I was up £3,000 from the first scorer bet, but it was scant consolation for what could have been. Keith Gillespie didn’t blow all his money on gambling. There were also misguided investments which racked up huge tax bills just as his income was falling in his mid-30s. Ultimately, it was the tax liabilities on these deals which forced his bankruptcy. He explains: “There was always enough money pouring into my account to deal with the bills that came my way. “That changed in 2007, with a letter from chartered accountants Hanna Thompson, which laid out the tax implications of the film syndicate I’d signed up to back in 2001. “Five full years had passed, and now the little details which I had previously ignored were suddenly very relevant. “My understanding was basic. I was still paying off the £1.3million loan registered in my name with an income stream that showed up in my tax forms every year. “By the declaration of that loan as a trading loss, I’d pocketed the £500,000 tax relief, and blown the majority of it. “The missive from Hanna Thompson detailed that the tax liability due on the Film Partnership Profits was £436,000 spread out over 10 years. “The sums increased until 2016, the final year of the arrangement, the tax due was £70,618. It brought home the insanity of the scheme which I’d signed up to. “Hundreds of footballers also signed up. Sir Alex Ferguson had invested into one called Eclipse 35. “What about the films our syndicate had financed? Our partnership was called Castle Media Film Partnership and there was a rumour that the investment had played a significant part in the creation of (award-winning war drama) Band Of Brothers. But that belonged to Castle Media Partnership II - the sequel to our scheme. “We discovered our three productions: (they were called) The Glass, Starhunter and Bride Of The Wind. “No, I’ve never heard of them either. “Their legacy is the tax bills that drove me into bankruptcy." Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Christmas Tree 4821 Posted April 27, 2014 Share Posted April 27, 2014 jesus Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Kid Dynamite 7169 Posted April 27, 2014 Share Posted April 27, 2014 £7mil in career wages for a player on £5k pw in his NUFC days. Makes you wonder what your bang average players are coming out with over a career these days. £40-50k pw is seen as par for the course for a lot of players Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tom 14013 Posted April 27, 2014 Share Posted April 27, 2014 He's a lovely bloke Gillespie like but it must take a special daftness to squander £7m. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Sonatine 11542 Posted April 27, 2014 Share Posted April 27, 2014 £7mil in career wages for a player on £5k pw in his NUFC days. Makes you wonder what your bang average players are coming out with over a career these days. £40-50k pw is seen as par for the course for a lot of players And I wouldn't be surprised if a fair few of them still end up bankrupt too Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Monroe Transfer 0 Posted April 27, 2014 Share Posted April 27, 2014 cough Dan Gosling cough Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
essembeeofsunderland 811 Posted April 28, 2014 Share Posted April 28, 2014 When we signed Boumsong,40% of the transfer money didn't go to the player or Rangers.Work that one out. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Monkeys Fist 43066 Posted April 28, 2014 Share Posted April 28, 2014 Complete mystery that like. Anyway, here's some nice pictures to look at, totally unrelated in any way to said 40%. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ohhh_yeah 2991 Posted May 27, 2015 Share Posted May 27, 2015 (edited) As a young footballer player tipped for success the diehard Toon-fan was living every Geordie lads dream when he signed a professional contract with the club by Sir Bobby Robson. But the talented sportsman is now rebuilding his life after getting caught-up in a drug-dealing ring to feed his gambling addiction, which landed him behind bars. And today speaking for the first time since his release and after being named as Bedlington Terriers new manager, Andy has told how the support of his family and a second chance at playing the game he loves is helping him get back on track. The 31-year-old, who grew up in Newcastles Newbiggin Hall estate, said: Im not a criminal, Im just a normal lad. I got caught up in that and now its something I have got to live with. I did throw everything away, but Im not going to sit here and feel sorry for myself. I have made a mistake, theres no one else to blame, but I want to get my life back on track. Until the day I die Newcastle United and football will be my life. And Im back in football now, and thats when Im happiest I had always been a fan and a season ticket holder so I was living every Geordies dream, he said. For me football was all I had ever known, and I was one of the fortunate ones who got to play professional. It was an absolute dream come true. I was a normal lad from a council estate in Newcastle who was training with Alan Shearer and Craig Bellamy, and Bobby Robson was my boss. Andy became firm friends with another young player rising through the ranks at Newcastle United - Michael Chopra. And while the pair enjoyed their first taste of life as professional footballers Andy said both struggled to settle into the lifestyle, which gave them a lot of free time when they were not training. At a young age the friends began gambling their wages, just to pass the time. We used to get about £70 a week as YTS players and went straight to Nobles Amusements, Andy said. It just seemed like a bit of fun at the time. But then as I got more money I wouldnt think twice about putting £1,000 on a horse, a dog or a roulette table. The more money I had the more I would gamble. When you are earning a lot you dont realise how much you are losing. Casinos became a massive problem for me. I would get up in the middle of the night and go. You think the football will go on forever. When you are 16 or 17 thats all you know. You are young, youve got enough money to do what you want, and you have got too much time on your hands. Im a lad who has to be busy all the time, but I was finished training in time to be in the bookies for the 1.30pm raise at Cheltenham or wherever. Andy never got the chance to taste first-team football at Newcastle and was released at the end of the 2003/04 season. His last game was a reserve match against Sunderland where he scored. After parting company with Newcastle, Andys career spiralled down the leagues. He signed a one-year contract with Watford in July 2004, which was not renewed. After a couple of successful seasons at Hereford, followed by spells at Kidderminster and York City, he returned to Tyneside in 2009 to play for Gateshead. Dropping down the leagues inevitably meant a drop in wages, which meant he was unable to keep up with the costly gambling habit he developed while earning thousands a week. I didnt think I had a problem, he said. I was taking wage drops so I didnt have the money I used to have. I just saw gambling as easy money. I didnt think of the consequences and I didnt think of my family. I was just in that bubble. By the time Andy returned to Tyneside he had a serious gambling addiction. And it was as after becoming reacquainted with people in Newcastles West End that he was offered the chance to earn some extra money and became involved in a plot to supply cocaine and amphetamine across Tyneside. He said: I didnt think of the consequences. I just saw a way to get some money for a bet. It was always about the gambling. There were no financial gains for me. It was just to put that next bet on. It wasnt about the drugs. I have never taken drugs in my life. In 2012 Andy joined Blyth Spartans, before moving on to Northern League Club Bedlington Terriers. But his season came to an abrupt end in September 2012 when he was arrested after police stormed nine houses during an operation to tackle the drugs ring he had become caught-up in, during which between £1.5m and £1.7m of drugs were seized. His arrest came just hours after he had been on the pitch scoring for the Terriers in their 4-2 home win over West Auckland. Andy was charged with conspiracy to supply class A and B drugs and was jailed for four years in June 2013. The fallen footballer served two years at Durham Jail and then the open prison at Kirklevington in North Yorkshire before being freed on licence. Determined to make the best of his time inside, Andy enrolled on brick-laying and PE courses, as well as getting help to deal with his gambling demons. At Durham I was mixing with murderers but I also met some decent people, he said. I did a bricklaying qualification in there. It kept me busy. I had never had a proper job in my life. My family took it hard though. It wasnt nice for my mam and dad, my partner and my stepdaughter. But the full family were 100% behind me and visited me in prison. Andy and Chopra drifted apart, but Andy received a lot of support from his other friends in the football world. Former NUFC Peter Ramage stuck by his pal and helped support Andys family financially while he was inside. Andy was released from jail eight months ago and returned to the home he shares with his partner and nine-year-old step-daughter in Pendower, Newcastle. Determined to get his life back on track he has since found work driving cars for Kenton Auto-Parts. But it is his love of football that continues to motivate Andy. And he was delighted after Bedlington Terriers agreed to give him a second chance, taking him on as assistant manager, before recently promoting him to manager. I was fortunate to have an 11-year career playing professionally. I have played under Bobby Robson and Ray Lewington at Watford who is still Englands Assistant manager, and you can only learn off people like that. There are a lot of people in sport with gambling problems and I dont think theres enough help out there for young players, he said. Im not the only footballer to fall into this trap. I think the academies need to do a lot more. I had to go to jail to get a qualification. Football academies should be putting on things like plumbing and brick-laying in the afternoons. They have got all these amazing training facilities, but its all about football. And not everyone is going to make it as a footballer. And if it doesnt work out these kids are not going to be brain surgeons and they miss out on things like going to college. At the time you take football for granted and you cant see it ending. Im a big believer that you cant cure gambling. To this day I still put a bet on. But I have got control over my gambling now. Ill never risk going back to jail again. Its just not worth waking up on Christmas morning in a cell. Im busy now and I have got a lot to do. I have got to make the best out of a bad situation. Edited May 27, 2015 by ohhh_yeah Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Alex 35572 Posted May 28, 2015 Share Posted May 28, 2015 Talk about a hard paper round. 31? Fuckin hell Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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