My Side
by David Beckham
HarperCollins £10.99, pp416
Where did it ever say you had to be interesting to be famous? Some of today's celebrities might be complex, purposeful human beings, but a lot of them are also horribly dull. This applies, particularly perhaps, to stars who play sport. In the 1970s and early 1980's, as I recall, there were interesting sports stars. The Michael Parkinson Show was overcrowded with them: Ali, Arthur Ashe, even Best (he could tell a story when he wasn't drunk). They skipped confidently down those twisting steps, slid onto that beige leather chair and indulged their host with humour and good grace as he delved into their private lives. They had presence, style, but, above all, they had personality. And, of course, they entertained, which, after all, is what they were there to do.
When David Beckham appeared on Parkinson in 2001 (Best was on the show, too) he looked utterly lost. Throughout the interview, in which he managed to say almost nothing of interest, he held his wife's hand like a boy clinging to his mother's sleeve on his first day at school. It was an ordeal for both viewer and subject.
Eventually, Elton John joined the guests on the couch. As he began talking eagerly about himself, relief flushed over Beckham's face. The pressure was off. Someone else had picked up the baton of fame and he was almost free to return to his domain, the football pitch, where he could be his straightforward self, without fear of ridicule. This boy from Chingford may not have been born to the limelight, but he has lived his life in it, nevertheless.
When Beckham signed for Real Madrid this year, the nerves were still jangling. He was uneasy at the press conference called to unveil him, attempting a few clumsy 'gracias', before retreating out of the spotlight. A few days later, he had not wanted to be the first to report for training, so he hung back in the club car park until some of his teammates arrived.
When Zidane and Ronaldo turned up and went inside, Beckham finally followed. He didn't want anyone thinking he was a 'big-time Charlie'. Endearingly, Beckham seems to strive for anonymity, even if he has stopped believing that he might ever find it again.
The Beckham phenomenon (he is described rather depressingly in the press release for My Side as 'one of the world's foremost media icons') is more complicated than the man himself. How else might we reconcile his often preposterous attention-seeking antics to his shy-boy persona?
Beckham is a mesh of contradictions: driven professional with a 1950s work ethic (Beckham consistently rated higher than any United player in fitness tests), smitten lover, who leaves his mobile phone on during team talks so that his wife can reach him (Ferguson dropped the offending item in the bin), team leader and heroic captain, petulant exhibitionist, besotted family man, bling-bling apostle and fashion slut who changes his haircut like a teenage girl trades in best friends, free-kick specialist, gay icon. It is this public/private paradox that keeps Beckham alive in the public eye.
Beckham's life has been defined largely by his relationship with strong men (his father, an ardent United fan who propelled him toward a career at Old Trafford, Sir Alex Ferguson, England manager Sven-Göran Eriksson) and a (reportedly) dominant woman, Victoria, his wife. Posh broke Ferguson's monopoly on her husband not long after the couple met in 1997, which is why Beckham continues to earn money from wearing sunglasses and clothes, as well as from playing football.
But it would be wrong to blame her for his more outlandish fashion choices; unwise to suggest that she made him choose between fame and football. Independently, Beckham wanted both celebrity and soccer, which is why, in the end, Ferguson decided to remove him from United.
Beckham is a talented footballer, though he has always had to work at this game, lacking the natural gift of Gascoigne or Rooney. And away from the pitch, he has lived an extraordinarily glamorous life. Unfortunately, he and his ghost writer, Tom Watt, recall it with all the clarity and vigour of a nervous best man struggling through his speech. The press blurb for My Side promises 'amazingly vivid insights' and a 'soul-searching portrayal'. What we get is a bland rehash of Roy of the Rovers.
My Side is dedicated to: 'Victoria, Brooklyn and Romeo. The three people who always make me smile. My babies forever. Love David (Daddy XX).' He signs the last part himself, scrawling the kisses in his own hand. It's a fitting sign of his dual devotion: both to his family and to his fame. In riding roughshod over the conundrum of being Daddy, husband David and global brand Becks Inc all at once, Beckham shows once again that he knows exactly how to play the game.
