Poor old Peters failed to crack the nut that is Andrew Flintoff. I know that Flintoff is a bit of a tit, but Peters sounds a bit of a tit, too:
I went to see another sports psychologist called Steve Peters. I thought: ‘He’s only down the road, works for British cycling. They’re doing well. He must be good.’ So I went to his house.
He was sitting next to a flip chart, which is never a good sign. Me and flip charts don’t go well together. So we exchanged pleasantries and then he says: ‘Let me tell you a bit about myself.’ And off he went: ‘I’ve won X number of gold medals. I’ve won this, I won that…’
‘Hang on a second,’ I said. ‘Gold medals? Wow. Can I see one? Never seen a gold medal.’
‘No, no, I haven’t
got any gold medals. No, no, I worked with the athletes — Chris Hoy, Victoria Pendleton and so on — and talked them into their gold medals…’
So what we’re talking about is gold medals for talking? Oh great.
Then he turns to his flip chart and draws a head on it. ‘Do you know what that is?’
‘It’s a head,’ I said.
‘You’ve got a chimp in there. You’ve got a chimp in your head.’
‘I don’t think I have,’ I said. ‘I think I’d know about it if I did.’
‘No, you have got a chimp in your head,’ he said. ‘What I mean by that is that the back of your head is eight times stronger than the front bit, so the back bit takes over. But your rational thoughts and so on are at the front. So what you’ve got to do is take over from the chimp at the back.’
‘How long is this going to go on for?’ I thought. ‘I want to go home.’ I did the hour with him and then I left.
Perhaps Steve didn’t catch me on a good day — and he is highly rated in his field — but it didn’t click for me.
Everyone was asking how it went. ‘Brilliant. I’ve got a chimp in my head.’ When I played next, I got out to a horrendous shot. ‘It’s not my fault. It’s this chimp in my head.’