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Fred Street talks to

Myles Palmer

FRED STREET, a calm, energetic Londoner, was England's physio for an astonishing 22 years.

He started with Don Revie in 1974, worked under Ron Greenwood in Spain in '82, enjoyed further World Cups with Bobby Robson in '86 and '90, and was kept on by Graham Taylor for the Euro '92 debacle in Sweden.

Street worked for, and was shaped by, three very English institutions: the RAF, Arsenal and the Football Association.

Each of those organisations shared an establishment ethos, a belief in Queen and country, fair play, and the honour of the regiment. Teamwork was more important than any individual. The officers and gentlemen knew that a really shrewd, straight-as-a-die sergeant would keep the men motivated, and cover their arses as well.

In those days Arsenal was really just the RAF without aircraft, and the England team was a bit like Arsenal in white shirts, whatever clubs the players come from. And, as time went on, the national team needed to be as English as possible, needed those old-fashioned English virtues of loyalty, integrity and sportsmanship. So England kept Fred Street on board for 22 years because, while he was never a fighter pilot, never a manager, never a star, he was one of the greatest, straightest, most valuable sergeants in post-war Britain.

Originally a PT instructor in the RAF, Street worked in hospitals in the Fifties with Bertie Mee, a former Derby player who had become Rehabilitation Officer at London's Camden Road Centre.

"Bertie runs through my life like a gold thread," admits Fred, smiling. Mee persuaded him to study as a remedial gymnast, and then to get qualified as a chartered physiotherapist.

Football clubs had little in-house expertise in those days, and in 1960 Mee was hired as Arsenal's physio.

Six years later Street was in Australia, setting up a centre for epileptics, when Mee wrote to say he had been made manager of Arsenal. Street later came home and took over Mee's old job at Camden Road. He had never wanted to go into football, but Mee, a brilliant organiser, persuaded him to meet Stoke chairman Albert Henshall in 1969. He agreed to set up a professional physiotherapy department at Stoke over the next three years.

When Arsenal won the double in 1971, coach Don Howe left to become West Brom manager, taking physio George Wright with him. Mee phoned his pal, who said he would not walk out against the wishes of Henshall, whom he adored.

Street then told Henshall that Arsenal wanted him. "I said, I'll leave it to you." So I spoke to Bertie again and said, "I've spoken to the chairman, I want it done nicely. If there's any aggravation, I'm not coming."
So next morning Bertie rings me and says, "You join us today. "
I said, "What d' you mean, today?"

He said, "We bought you. They paid £5,000 for me. I've got the receipt at home. I found Stoke somebody else later that week."

Arsenal reached the 1972 FA Cup Final and he got to know Leeds manager Don Revie on the touchline at Wembley. "When he got the England job he rang up Bertie and asked if he could have me, which was nice. Dennis Hill-Wood, the chairman of Arsenal said, 'Oh, wonderful, an honour for the club'. Off I went, did 250-odd games."

He continued as Arsenal's physio until 1984. "Don Revie was a great professional, a terrific bloke to work for."

He recalls being with Revie in Rome in 1976. "Emlyn Hughes's boot came off, and this Italian player kicked it straight in the crowd. And the crowd lost it instantly. So Emlyn's hobbling about for five minutes while we dashed off to get a boot for him. And Revie said, 'The bastards ! You don't like it, but you've got to admire it. I must remember that one!"

In 1990, the man who never fancied working in football flew home from Italy after an exciting semi-final in which Bobby Robson's heroes lost to Germany in a penalty shoot-out. He was amazed to find a tumultuous, cheering crowd at Luton airport.

"God knows how many thousands of people were there. It took us about four hours to get to the hotel, it was only a short journey. I remember one copper was stood at the front of this open top bus, which was going at just above walking pace, and he jogged all the way in front of this bus. And people were climbing up the side of the bus. I thought they were gonna pull it over at one time. Unbelievable. "

"The players were all in top, doing their bit for the crowd. And most of the staff were downstairs. And there were women with babies, newborns, pressed up against the bus. Some of them were fainting, passing out. And we actually brought some of them on the bus, with the babies, laid out. We were bringing them cups of tea. If we'd got to the final, we'd still be coming through the crowd now. Great atmosphere.

"And yet in the qualifying stage we were slaughtered. One headline said MAGGIE, BRING THEM HOME NOW. Front page. It was that Group of Death - Holland, Ireland, Egypt and us. It looked at one stage that it would be 1-1 in every match, stalemate. We were down there largely because of the hooligan threat, which never materialised. But they had helicopters and everything.

"We got through Cameroon, the late goal against Belgium. Two weeks later, from being told to come home now, it was almost, Arise, Sir Bobby. An incredible change. Same team, same players, same problems, doing their best to win,lose or draw.

"I knew four England managers and they all did the job in their own peculiar ways - the same job, which got increasingly difficult, I felt. If you compare the job that Alf did with the job now, there wasn't the media interest, the commercial interest, the exposure on television. It was a little sports tournament which ran every four years "

"When I packed up with England we were trying to find a replacement, looking for someone qualified, right background, good personality. We took a few people along to try out.

"We got turned down by George Graham when we asked for Gary Lewin. He said, 'No, we need him here'. Kenny Dalglish turned us down for their man. So we were looking for people who would be released. But now we've got Gary Lewin because Bruce Rioch was happy for Gary to be released."

As someone who worked backstage for 25 years, Fred has been more fascinated by the personalities than the medical details. It's the different temperaments of the players and managers, their humour and courage, their quirks and anxieties, that he recalls most fondly. He says players have various ways of coping with the brief, stressful time just before kick-off.

"Some like quietly sitting on their own, getting ready, taking ten minutes, others take an hour with lots of noise. Terry Butcher was always punching the wall, shouting, 'Come on lads!' All that. Others find that irritating. Liam Brady used to come and sit quietly in the treatment room, gather his thoughts. That was his way."

Fred recalls Liam Brady coming to Arsenal as little Irish kid, being nicknamed Chippy, developing into a great player, and signing for Juventus, where he played alongside the handsome, stylish Roberto Bettega, now a senior executive of the club

"Chippy came back a few weeks later and said that they roomed him with Bettega for away matches because he spoke English. And he said, 'You know what it's like when you come round the rooms of English players they're all lying around in their Y-fronts, scratching themselves' ".

He said, "I woke up on the morning of a match when we were up in the hills somewhere, overlooking Turin. There was Bettega in a Givenchy dressing gown and Gucci slippers, sipping iced orange juice on the balcony. I thought, I'm lying here in my Y-fronts, I'd better get my act together.' So he went out and bought a decent dressing gown."

"Some players, especially those who were pretty psyched-up before kick-off, could be incoherent during a game, which is no help to someone trying to diagnose an injury in the heat of battle."

"When you go on the pitch sometimes, you don't get a lot of sense out of them. They're gone. Others, like Alan Ball, Ray Wilkins, Bryan Robson, Gary Lineker, you could go on the pitch and discuss things with them. They can watch the game as well as be involved in it."

"Arsenal's Peter Storey, a fierce competitor, always wanted to play, even when he was injured, while Charlie George, a sensitive lad, was the opposite. "

Charlie liked to feel 100%, it was a psychological thing. They like to feel sure that they're alright. Forget sport, they're performers, they're going out to perform in front of the public. And, like ballet dancers and opera singers, the public aren't interested that you've got a backache. They've paid £25 a ticket to see you. If you're that bad, you shouldn't be there.

"So players have to perform and they're judged entirely on that day, not the game last week. Alan Ball always used to say, after a good result, I'm a good player for three days again. It's three days at a time.
"You have to encourage them and help them along and give them support. And that's all we do, very often, our job. The technical side, you treat the injuries, and that's the same if you're a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker.

"But with performers, you're providing a prop, particularly on match day. Some players need more than others. People like Bobby Moore never needed a thing. He'd just get his kit on and go out. And there are other players like that. A lot of the Liverpool players of the Shankly period were like that.

"Nowadays you spend longer getting them ready than they do actually playing. They're in the dressing room about an hour and a half before the game, getting ready. And you've got eleven of them to do. Some of them need a lot of rubbing down, lots of strappings and so on. And in some ways it's our fault. We create monsters because they're brought up like this and they become dependent on it.

"They need a lot of silly little things. If you go overseas there often isn't a bath, just showers. We used to go early to the ground, myself and my assistant. Gary Lineker would say, 'See if there's a bath somewhere, so I can get a little soak'. That was what he needed. You could argue that it's a nonsense. And Gary would probably agree with you in the middle of the week. But, come Saturday, it's curtain time. "

"I've done it with actors and comedians. They're going onstage, everything is about them. We provide a very intangible service this way. And I think that's important when you're judging people who might be good at the job. The technical bit, the qualifications, are a basic requirement, but there's more to it than that. You want the right person.

"I don't think you need a fan, particularly. You don't need someone who's involved in the football who says, 'Oh, we've gotta win this'. I used to sit there on the touchline, out of it. You're not involved in the problems of the game. You are in a sense, because we all want to win, but you stay out of that. It shouldn't influence the way you feel, whether we're winning, losing, drawing.

"Coaches and managers can afford emotions."

Now 62, Fred is still busy at The Clinic in Park Street, Mayfair, where he works alongside doctors and surgeons. He still looks after footballers who have had operations.

Solicitor Mel Goldberg, a lifelong Arsenal fan, helped organise a testimonial dinner for him at the Royal Lancaster Hotel on Thursday 29th October.

The guests included TV star Des O'Connor, BBC pundits Gary Lineker and Trevor Brooking, Arsenal luminaries Don Howe, Liam Brady and Tony Adams, and managers Ron Atkinson and Graham Taylor, who gave one of the speeches.






	Fred Street talks to Myles Palmer
	FRED STREET, a calm, energetic Londoner, was England's physio for an astonishing 22 years. He started with Don Revie in 1974, worked under Ron Greenwood in Spain in '82, enjoyed further World Cups with Bobby Robson in '86 and '90, and was kept on by Graham Taylor for the Euro '92 debacle in Sweden. Street worked for, and was shaped by, three very English institutions: the RAF, Arsenal and the Football Association. Each of those organisations shared an establishment ethos, a belief in Queen and country, fair play, and the honour of the regiment. Teamwork was more important than any individual. The officers and gentlemen knew that a really shrewd, straight-as-a-die sergeant would keep the men motivated, and cover their arses as well. In those days Arsenal was really just the RAF without aircraft, and the England team was a bit like Arsenal in white shirts, whatever clubs the players come from. And, as time went on, the national team needed to be as English as possible, needed those old-fashioned English virtues of loyalty, integrity and sportsmanship. So England kept Fred Street on board for 22 years because, while he was never a fighter pilot, never a manager, never a star, he was one of the greatest, straightest, most valuable sergeants in post-war Britain. Originally a PT instructor in the RAF, Street worked in hospitals in the Fifties with Bertie Mee, a former Derby player who had become Rehabilitation Officer at London's Camden Road Centre. "Bertie runs through my life like a gold thread," admits Fred, smiling. Mee persuaded him to study as a remedial gymnast, and then to get qualified as a chartered physiotherapist. Football clubs had little in-house expertise in those days, and in 1960 Mee was hired as Arsenal's physio. Six years later Street was in Australia, setting up a centre for epileptics, when Mee wrote to say he had been made manager of Arsenal. Street later came home and took over Mee's old job at Camden Road. He had never wanted to go into football, but Mee, a brilliant organiser, persuaded him to meet Stoke chairman Albert Henshall in 1969. He agreed to set up a professional physiotherapy department at Stoke over the next three years. When Arsenal won the double in 1971, coach Don Howe left to become West Brom manager, taking physio George Wright with him. Mee phoned his pal, who said he would not walk out against the wishes of Henshall, whom he adored. Street then told Henshall that Arsenal wanted him. "I said, I'll leave it to you." So I spoke to Bertie again and said, "I've spoken to the chairman, I want it done nicely. If there's any aggravation, I'm not coming." So next morning Bertie rings me and says, "You join us today. " I said, "What d' you mean, today?" He said, "We bought you. They paid £5,000 for me. I've got the receipt at home. I found Stoke somebody else later that week." Arsenal reached the 1972 FA Cup Final and he got to know Leeds manager Don Revie on the touchline at Wembley. "When he got the England job he rang up Bertie and asked if he could have me, which was nice. Dennis Hill-Wood, the chairman of Arsenal said, 'Oh, wonderful, an honour for the club'. Off I went, did 250-odd games." He continued as Arsenal's physio until 1984. "Don Revie was a great professional, a terrific bloke to work for." He recalls being with Revie in Rome in 1976. "Emlyn Hughes's boot came off, and this Italian player kicked it straight in the crowd. And the crowd lost it instantly. So Emlyn's hobbling about for five minutes while we dashed off to get a boot for him. And Revie said, 'The bastards ! You don't like it, but you've got to admire it. I must remember that one!" In 1990, the man who never fancied working in football flew home from Italy after an exciting semi-final in which Bobby Robson's heroes lost to Germany in a penalty shoot-out. He was amazed to find a tumultuous, cheering crowd at Luton airport. "God knows how many thousands of people were there. It took us about four hours to get to the hotel, it was only a short journey. I remember one copper was stood at the front of this open top bus, which was going at just above walking pace, and he jogged all the way in front of this bus. And people were climbing up the side of the bus. I thought they were gonna pull it over at one time. Unbelievable. " "The players were all in top, doing their bit for the crowd. And most of the staff were downstairs. And there were women with babies, newborns, pressed up against the bus. Some of them were fainting, passing out. And we actually brought some of them on the bus, with the babies, laid out. We were bringing them cups of tea. If we'd got to the final, we'd still be coming through the crowd now. Great atmosphere. "And yet in the qualifying stage we were slaughtered. One headline said MAGGIE, BRING THEM HOME NOW. Front page. It was that Group of Death - Holland, Ireland, Egypt and us. It looked at one stage that it would be 1-1 in every match, stalemate. We were down there largely because of the hooligan threat, which never materialised. But they had helicopters and everything. "We got through Cameroon, the late goal against Belgium. Two weeks later, from being told to come home now, it was almost, Arise, Sir Bobby. An incredible change. Same team, same players, same problems, doing their best to win,lose or draw. "I knew four England managers and they all did the job in their own peculiar ways - the same job, which got increasingly difficult, I felt. If you compare the job that Alf did with the job now, there wasn't the media interest, the commercial interest, the exposure on television. It was a little sports tournament which ran every four years " "When I packed up with England we were trying to find a replacement, looking for someone qualified, right background, good personality. We took a few people along to try out. "We got turned down by George Graham when we asked for Gary Lewin. He said, 'No, we need him here'. Kenny Dalglish turned us down for their man. So we were looking for people who would be released. But now we've got Gary Lewin because Bruce Rioch was happy for Gary to be released." As someone who worked backstage for 25 years, Fred has been more fascinated by the personalities than the medical details. It's the different temperaments of the players and managers, their humour and courage, their quirks and anxieties, that he recalls most fondly. He says players have various ways of coping with the brief, stressful time just before kick-off. "Some like quietly sitting on their own, getting ready, taking ten minutes, others take an hour with lots of noise. Terry Butcher was always punching the wall, shouting, 'Come on lads!' All that. Others find that irritating. Liam Brady used to come and sit quietly in the treatment room, gather his thoughts. That was his way." Fred recalls Liam Brady coming to Arsenal as little Irish kid, being nicknamed Chippy, developing into a great player, and signing for Juventus, where he played alongside the handsome, stylish Roberto Bettega, now a senior executive of the club "Chippy came back a few weeks later and said that they roomed him with Bettega for away matches because he spoke English. And he said, 'You know what it's like when you come round the rooms of English players they're all lying around in their Y-fronts, scratching themselves' ". He said, "I woke up on the morning of a match when we were up in the hills somewhere, overlooking Turin. There was Bettega in a Givenchy dressing gown and Gucci slippers, sipping iced orange juice on the balcony. I thought, I'm lying here in my Y-fronts, I'd better get my act together.' So he went out and bought a decent dressing gown." "Some players, especially those who were pretty psyched-up before kick-off, could be incoherent during a game, which is no help to someone trying to diagnose an injury in the heat of battle." "When you go on the pitch sometimes, you don't get a lot of sense out of them. They're gone. Others, like Alan Ball, Ray Wilkins, Bryan Robson, Gary Lineker, you could go on the pitch and discuss things with them. They can watch the game as well as be involved in it." "Arsenal's Peter Storey, a fierce competitor, always wanted to play, even when he was injured, while Charlie George, a sensitive lad, was the opposite. " Charlie liked to feel 100%, it was a psychological thing. They like to feel sure that they're alright. Forget sport, they're performers, they're going out to perform in front of the public. And, like ballet dancers and opera singers, the public aren't interested that you've got a backache. They've paid £25 a ticket to see you. If you're that bad, you shouldn't be there. "So players have to perform and they're judged entirely on that day, not the game last week. Alan Ball always used to say, after a good result, I'm a good player for three days again. It's three days at a time. "You have to encourage them and help them along and give them support. And that's all we do, very often, our job. The technical side, you treat the injuries, and that's the same if you're a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker. "But with performers, you're providing a prop, particularly on match day. Some players need more than others. People like Bobby Moore never needed a thing. He'd just get his kit on and go out. And there are other players like that. A lot of the Liverpool players of the Shankly period were like that. "Nowadays you spend longer getting them ready than they do actually playing. They're in the dressing room about an hour and a half before the game, getting ready. And you've got eleven of them to do. Some of them need a lot of rubbing down, lots of strappings and so on. And in some ways it's our fault. We create monsters because they're brought up like this and they become dependent on it. "They need a lot of silly little things. If you go overseas there often isn't a bath, just showers. We used to go early to the ground, myself and my assistant. Gary Lineker would say, 'See if there's a bath somewhere, so I can get a little soak'. That was what he needed. You could argue that it's a nonsense. And Gary would probably agree with you in the middle of the week. But, come Saturday, it's curtain time. " "I've done it with actors and comedians. They're going onstage, everything is about them. We provide a very intangible service this way. And I think that's important when you're judging people who might be good at the job. The technical bit, the qualifications, are a basic requirement, but there's more to it than that. You want the right person. "I don't think you need a fan, particularly. You don't need someone who's involved in the football who says, 'Oh, we've gotta win this'. I used to sit there on the touchline, out of it. You're not involved in the problems of the game. You are in a sense, because we all want to win, but you stay out of that. It shouldn't influence the way you feel, whether we're winning, losing, drawing. "Coaches and managers can afford emotions." Now 62, Fred is still busy at The Clinic in Park Street, Mayfair, where he works alongside doctors and surgeons. He still looks after footballers who have had operations. Solicitor Mel Goldberg, a lifelong Arsenal fan, helped organise a testimonial dinner for him at the Royal Lancaster Hotel on Thursday 29th October. The guests included TV star Des O'Connor, BBC pundits Gary Lineker and Trevor Brooking, Arsenal luminaries Don Howe, Liam Brady and Tony Adams, and managers Ron Atkinson and Graham Taylor, who gave one of the speeches.