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CRAIG BELLAMY: The Big Interview

gkmacca

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CRAIG BELLAMY: THE INTERVIEW

By

Oliver Dolt




‘Does he know you’re coming?’ asks the waitress nervously, ‘only he usually comes in here to get away from all the hassle’. I assure her that I am indeed expected, but, all the same, she’s succeeded in making me feel more nervous than ever. This could be one of those interviews that start badly and then go downhill fast.

I am here to meet the Liverpool and Wales bad boy Craig Bellamy in an upmarket branch of Beefeater, just outside Preston, and he is already forty-three minutes late. I start to wonder to myself about how long the wait might be. Maybe he’s changed his mind; maybe he’s not coming at all…maybe he’s sorted out another arrangement…maybe he’s given up on the media altogether. I look up at the clock: it’s still 1.25p.m. I check my watch: it’s the same. Time is really dragging – not much of a tick or a tock. It feels, to be honest, like the day is standing still. Suddenly, after another few timeless sighs, the place starts murmuring: an elderly lady by the salad bar looks up and points at the door, a dog starts barking outside, a baby cries…and…there he is – short and triangular, still in his Liverpool training kit, the one and only Craig Bellamy. ‘How do, mate,’ he says with a slight grin as the waitress helps him up into a seat opposite me. ‘Sorry I’m late, like, but I got into a bit of an altercation over the road, see. Absolute conkers, it was, but let’s move on, eh?’

I’m just relieved he seems in such a good mood, so we settle down and peruse our menus. I order a plate of potato skins with cheese and bacon topping, followed by a Beefeater Burger, some chips, a large glass of Chilean Merlot and an Irish Coffee. Bellamy orders some meat, followed by some more meat and a large Diet ‘Citrus Twist’ Coke with ice. ‘Can I turn my recorder on, Craig?’ I ask him. He sits back and nods: ‘Yup. Fire away, mate’. The interview begins.




DOLT: First things first, Craig: why no diary entries so far this year?

BELLAMY: Flippin’ heck! Start with the big questions first, eh? You would not believe what a HECK of a lot of trouble I’ve had trying to find a suitable flippin’ diary! I’ve always – ALWAYS – used the Letts ‘One-Page-A-Day’ diary bound in Welsh Red leather, right? Well, apparently – although they gave absolutely no warning - W.H. Smith no longer flippin’ well stock that edition, except in a horrible blue ‘leather look’ plastic cover! So I made them do a special order, right? As you do. And so I waited…and waited…and flippin’ flamin’ waited. And we were flippin’ well already into FEBRUARY!!!! Really angry by this time, as you can imagine! So I go in there and says, ‘Excuse me. What the flippin’ HECK is going on??? Where’s the flamin’ diary?’ And this bloke, this young twit of a bloke, goes, ‘Please apologise to your Dad, but apparently his order got mislaid and it hasn’t actually gone off yet.’ Well, let’s just say that I was flippin’ FURIOUS and leave it at that! Gave him a piece of my flamin’ mind, I did! So I said, ‘Don’t flippin’ flamin’ well bother! I’ll order one on the flippin’ INTERNET!’ Sort of burnt me bridges there, which was a bit unfortunate in retrospect because I don’t actually know how to use the internet. I’m more of an Exchange & Mart sort of lad. So the bottom line is I’m waiting for Dirk to find me one, cos he does all of that surfing malarkey with the mice and all of that. But, mark my words, me diary will be back once he tracks me down the right edition.

DOLT: So it WILL be back?

BELLAMY: Yeah, sure, it’ll be back.

DOLT: That’s good to know, Craig. Now, then: the next big topic - what about your ‘bad boy’ image? Why does that still dog you?

BELLAMY: Look, right, I’m NOT a bad lad. I’m a good lad. I’m just a good lad who sometimes does things that a bad lad would do. That’s all. Honestly. I’m not really a bad lad at all. I’m a good lad. A very good lad. Definitely. I eat meat, I wash every day, I go near churches, I often wear cardigans, there’s always a heck of a lot of wool in the house and I’m nice to me parents. I’m flippin’ good, me. Absolutely. It’s just that things happen to me. That’s all it is. Things happen to me that make me look like a bad lad instead of a good lad. Which is what I am. A very good lad. If things didn’t keep happening to me it’d be much more flippin’ well obvious how good a lad I actually am.

DOLT: Dare I bring up the dreaded word: karaoke?

BELLAMY: Flippin’ heck! [Laughs] This is one of the things that the punters don’t realise about me, see. It was all about music. Music is a passion of mine. I’m Welsh! I’m music mad, me. ‘It was my first love and it will be my last’. Absolutely. It’s like: music – something else – and music again. Football is just the thing in the middle. Like a sausage sandwich. Which is another passion of mine. But music is IMPORTANT, right? So when other people disrespect music, see, they also disrespect me.

DOLT: So what did happen that fateful night, Craig? What was the truth?

BELLAMY: [Sighs] All right, flippin’ heck, here goes. We were having a sing-song, right? All very nice, all very merry, see. And I was asking John if he could remember the correct lyrics for that crackin’ Manfred Mann single, ‘Doo-Wah-Diddy,’ okay? And, believe it or not, he said he couldn’t, and, worse still, he said he ‘couldn’t care less’. Well, I was flippin’ gobsmacked! Absolutely flippin’ stunned, me, that did. So then I asked him me stock question that sorts out the boys from the men, and vice-versa: ‘What’s your favourite Tom Jones single?’ Now…hold on to your flippin’ chair: HE SAID HE DIDN’T HAVE ONE!!!!! I promise you that is what he flippin’ well said!!! He said ‘Tom Jones is a fat old geezer with a cough who wouldn’t know a good song if it hit him’. Un-be-flippin’-lievable! But I was really trying not to crack, right? I was doing the deep breathing, all of that anger management stuff, right? But then he sits back and says, ‘You want to listen to REAL music, Craig?’ So I said, ‘Who?’ And he said…I kid you not…he said: ‘A-Ha’. A-flippin flamin’ HA!!!!!! So you can imagine how I was – flippin’ apoplectic!

DOLT: He actually said A-Ha?

BELLAMY: He actually said “A-Haâ€. As God is my flippin’ witness! A-flamin’ Ha! So, understandably, I didn’t want to be in the same flamin’ ROOM as someone like THAT! If I’d stayed there any longer he might have moved on to flippin’ LORDI!!!! Scandinavian idiot! So I went to bed, see? Problem solved. ‘Rise above it, Craig.’ But I couldn’t sleep. I was too angry. I was rolling over and growling. Then, at about 3 o’clock, I sat up and thought meself: ‘Craig, be the big man. Get some closure. Otherwise you just won’t ever get any kip. Do something positive’. So I thought I’d challenge John to a game of crazy golf, which I flippin’ adore. And, yes, I DID go round to his room, but it WASN’T to play there and then. I’m not flamin’ stupid. It was merely to set up a time for the next day, see? But I had to bang on his flippin’ door for ages! It was like he was deaf or summat. Anyway, I finally got him to answer the door, all bleary-eyed, and he went mental! Absolutely mad, he went! What I didn’t know at the time was, he’d eaten a huge piece of cheese before going to bed, fallen asleep and had a nightmare about, would you believe, The Clangers. But not the nice Clangers we all know and love, but some sort of evil Clangers who actually feed on red-haired humans. So when he opened the door, like, half asleep, and saw me in me special silver-silk pyjamas (a Christmas present from me missus), he thought I was a flippin’ evil Clanger!!!

DOLT: But…

BELLAMY: LOOK: I’m NOT making this up!!!!! So he started screaming like a girl, going, ‘Alien!!! Murderer! Murderer! Alien!!!! Get away! Get away from me! Help! Someone help!!!!’ The next thing I knew, Carra had turned up, shouting ‘Calm down,’ but his high-pitched voice made John even more sure that there were these evil Clangers coming to get him. And then, of course, all flippin’ hell broke loose. Everyone seemed to be there! Eventually, right, Paco came along and gave John a tablet and sent everyone else back to bed. And that, as God is my witness, is what really happened. We laugh about it now, John and me. We think it’s flippin’ hilarious. He does though still get genuinely terrified if someone mentions The Clangers. But otherwise it’s fine.

DOLT: That’s extraordinary.

BELLAMY: It is the gospel truth, mate.

DOLT: But why then did you do that golf swing celebration after scoring against Barcelona?

BELLAMY: Oh my giddy aunt! More media nonsense. It wasn’t “a golf swing celebration†at all in any shape or form. It was a meat celebration. That’s how you slice open a pig. The absolute first-class way a specialist will slice open a pig. It was an-joke between me and me local butcher. He’d asked me to do something special, if I scored, so I did. Of course, the idiots in the press box saw it, put two and two together, and made three! Golf swing my arse!

DOLT: This is amazing! It’s incredible how things get twisted.

BELLAMY: I’m used to it, mate. I am so used to it.

DOLT: Let’s move on then. Let’s talk showbiz. What’s this I hear about you and Dick Van Dyke?

BELLAMY: Flippin’ heck! You’ve been doing your research!!! Yes. Well, as you know, I’m a HUGE fan of Diagnosis Murder. A massive fan. And one of our new owners, George Gillett, turns out to be a mate of Mr Van Dyke. So he arranged a meeting with the great man. And we got on like a flamin’ house on fire. Anyway, although the regular series are over, a few special episodes of Diagnosis Murder are planned for 2009, in ‘the Fall’ as they call it, and Mr Van Dyke says he’ll find a part for me! I cannot tell you how excited I am! I am flippin’ flamin’ ecstatic. Me legs are jumping all the time!

DOLT: And what about this famous trout farm of yours and Robbie Savage?

BELLAMY: Don’t ask.

DOLT: I have to, Craig. Sorry, but I’m a journalist.

BELLAMY: Mate, don’t ask.

DOLT: Craig, I have to ask: What’s happening?

BELLAMY: The trout farm is history. It’s over.

DOLT: I can see that this is a painful topic, Craig, but can you say why?

BELLAMY: Some people need to grow up. And take their tractor and thirty piglets with them.

DOLT: Sorry, Craig, but could you be just a little bit clearer?

BELLAMY: Let’s just say that great big stupid girls and trout farms don’t mix. Let’s leave it at that.

DOLT: Okay, I guess we’ll have to. Can I ask you instead about Craig Bellamy the solo entrepreneur?

BELLAMY: By all means!

DOLT: There’s a Craig Bellamy Steak Knife Collection coming out in August?

BELLAMY: Yup. At long last. We’ve had all kinds of production problems, and I’m a perfectionist when it comes to meat and meat-related products, so I’ve sent the prototypes back seven times, but, at last, we’re just about there. The first few sets should be winging it over here from Thailand in a couple of months. We’ll have a launch at Warrington Argos, a big feature in Meat Monthly, an interview in The Cardiff Times and Rob Brydon’s promised to do a ‘test drive’ in NUTS.

DOLT: And is it true you’re appearing with the products in an edition of Celebrity Ready, Steady Cook next autumn?

BELLAMY: We’re hoping that’ll still happen, yes, that’s quite true, but there are still some technical difficulties that need ironing out.

DOLT: Such as…?

BELLAMY: As the studio set is currently arranged, only me eyes and half me nose can be seen above the table. I look like one of them flippin’ ‘Kilroy Wos Here’ drawings! So we’ll need a ramp or a ledge or summat like that. Jermaine Defoe went on the show with his girlfriend a couple of months ago, but they had someone – I think it was the bloke who does Basil Brush - hiding behind the counter holding him up all the time. I’m not going to suffer THAT sort of indignity! So we’re in talks with Ainsley. Fingers crossed.

DOLT: Do you mind if we do a few stock journalistic questions here? For the broader audience?

BELLAMY: Women?

DOLT: Well, yes.

BELLAMY: Go ahead, mate. I’m easy, me.

DOLT: Okay. What’s your favourite colour?

BELLAMY: Red!

DOLT: Favourite food?

BELLAMY: Meat.

DOLT: Favourite physical feature?

BELLAMY: Boobs!

DOLT: No, YOUR feature.

BELLAMY: Oh, right. Erm…me nose. It’s dead good. Very neat.

DOLT: Least favourite?

BELLAMY: It might not look like it, but me neck isn’t actually that great, so I’d like to stretch it a bit.

DOLT: Favourite word?

BELLAMY: Meat.

DOLT: Most hated word?

BELLAMY: Offside.

DOLT: Favourite sound?

BELLAMY: The harmonica, played by a short man.

DOLT: Most hated sound?

BELLAMY: Whistles.

DOLT: Strictly Come Dancing or Dancing on Ice?

BELLAMY: The missus likes Strictly Come Dancing. And I quite like it, too. Dancing on ICE???? Madness! Absolute CONKERS!!

DOLT: Grease or Joseph?

BELLAMY: Er, do I LOOK gay?

DOLT: No!

BELLAMY: Well, then – behave yourself!

DOLT: Blair or Brown?

BELLAMY: You’re really pushing your luck now.

DOLT: Brown sauce or red?

BELLAMY: Brown!

DOLT: The Underdog or Life on Mars?

BELLAMY: What kind of comparison is THAT???? I like dogs and I like blokes in comas. What the HECK are you going on about????

DOLT: Sorry. White bread or brown?

BELLAMY: Don’t get me started on bread! It very much depends on the occasion. Actually, when it comes to bread bought off the peg, I’m a great admirer of Hovis ‘Sunny,’ but it’s a very, very, complicated matter. I’m just relieved we have a breadmaker. It’s a state of the art Panasonic. Absolutely cracking, it is. Women can’t always be trusted to use it, but I can. I always get results, me.

DOLT: Cif or Cillit Bang?

BELLAMY: Cif! Or anything else other than flamin’ Cillit Bang!!!

DOLT: Tuesdays or Thursdays?

BELLAMY: I’ve already made my views known, many many times, on the craziness of the names we use for certain days. I prefer to leave the matter now, before I get angry.

DOLT: You really do seem incredibly keen to keep your temper these days!

BELLAMY: Yup. As I keep saying, I’m flippin’ grown up, me. I wish Joey Barton would ask me for advice. I’d help the lad. I’m flippin’ superb, me, when it comes to behaving meself. Most of the time. I take deep breaths, I do me incredulous smile, the arms outstretched, all sorts. I’m almost a sort of Welsh Buddhist, me.

DOLT: Tracker bar or Alpen bar?

BELLAMY: Tracker. They’ve done this kind of thing for a long, long, time. It’s been tried and tested. They know what they’re up to.

DOLT: Eurovision or X Factor?

BELLAMY: Now you really are having a laugh, aren’t you? Neither. Flippin’ HECK!!!!! Absolute CONKERS, the two of ‘em!!!!!

DOLT: It has been reported that Sir Paul McCartney has included a song about you – ‘Mr Bellamy’ - on his new album. How on earth did that happen?

BELLAMY: Paulie? He’s a fan.

DOLT: The lyrics go: ‘No one to tell me what to do/ No one to hold my hand./ Nobody here to spoil the view,/ Interfere with my plans./ I like it up here without you.’

BELLAMY: Aye, he likes me independent spirit, see. Probably reminds him of John, like.

DOLT: So you spend a bit of time with him?

BELLAMY: Of course not - he’s a VEGETARIAN!!! But we do have the odd natter. He’s a good laugh, old Paulie.

DOLT: And, finally, what of your football future, Craig? There are rumours of a move…

BELLAMY: There always are with me, mate. But I’m a Red. Always have been. So there’s as much chance of me leaving as there is of me deliberately getting offside.

DOLT: So there have not been any problems?

BELLAMY: Look, I’m sure everyone knows that I’ve not been happy with the collars on me shirts. I hate collars, right? But I’m an adult and a professional. I rip the collars off. That’s how I am these days. I’m a grown-up, me. I rise above such stuff.

DOLT: So we’ll see you at Anfield next season?

BELLAMY: Mate, as far as I’m concerned, yes, I’m staying put. You’ll have to ask the Gaffer, but I want to stay, me, definitely.

DOLT: Good luck in Athens!

BELLAMY: Cheers, mate!





And with that he was off – hopping down from his seat, landing with almost balletic ease, then a quick thumbs up before striding off to his next meeting. ‘So what did you think of our Craig?’ asked the waitress as I stayed behind to pay the bill. ‘He’s not a bad lad really, is he?’ she said. Do you know what? I had to agree. He’s a small and very complicated individual, and he’s driven by his passions, but, no, Craig Bellamy’s not a bad lad at all.
 
Ah, happy days indeed!

I'm sure his downturn in fortunes coincided with the diary not being updated.
 
But not the nice Clangers we all know and love, but some sort of evil Clangers who actually feed on red-haired humans. So when he opened the door, like, half asleep, and saw me in me special silver-silk pyjamas (a Christmas present from me missus), he thought I was a flippin’ evil Clanger!!!

The next thing I knew, Carra had turned up, shouting ‘Calm down,’ but his high-pitched voice made John even more sure that there were these evil Clangers coming to get him.

hahaha.

Superb stuff Macca, cheers.

Here's hoping Dirk gets Craig a new diary soon!
 
One read of that and I start liking Bellamy again. He should be paying you for all this good PR work you do for him.
 
Ha ha ha. I never look in The Vault normally, so pure good luck I saw this on the day it was posted. Shouldn't it be posted on the Football Forum first?

Anyway, it's brilliant. You deserve paying, Macca...
 
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