David Beckham: My Side - The Autobiography

David Beckham: My Side - The Autobiography

David Beckham, Tom Watt

Language: English

Pages: 0

ISBN: 000717182X

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

David Beckham: My Side - The Autobiography

David Beckham, Tom Watt

Language: English

Pages: 0

ISBN: 000717182X

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


David Beckham is one of the world's foremost media icons, his popularity transcending sport and cultural divides. This is his own in-depth account of his career to date, for Manchester United and England, and of his childhood, family and personal life. With endless newspaper column inches devoted to one of the most talked about men in the world, it seems that we know everything there is to know about David Beckham. Or do we? This is Beckham's fascinating life story in his own words. His complex relationship with United boss Alex Ferguson and how he handles the pressure of playing alongside some of the most volatile footballers of his generation. The England story, from being vilified by the nation before returning as the prodigal son and almost single-handedly guiding his country as captain to the 2002 World Cup Finals. One minute we are singing his praises; the next we are castigating him for losing control of his temper and being a poor role model. Where does the truth lie? Now from Beckham himself, we gain a vivid and at times searingly honest insight into the family man behind the famous footballer, the international model and fashion leader.He describes how he first met and then married ex-Spice girl Victoria Adams, and the upbringing of their two children Brooklyn and Romeo. How his family's every step is monitored by a possee of newshounds and paparazzi. Also, the influence of his parents, growing up as a shy youngster in the family home, and how their subsequent split affected him. This book is an intimate and soul-searching portrayal of a massive celebrity, a family man, and an awe-inspiring footballer -- the likes of which we are unlikely to see again.

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trying to intimidate and unsettle opponents. I had good reason to know that better than most, so it didn’t surprise me. The ref, the keeper and Diego Simeone, of all people, were standing in front of me, between me and the goal. I took two or three steps back. Simeone walked straight past the ball towards me. He stopped and offered his hand as if he expected me to shake it. Should I? No chance. I looked beyond him – through him – towards the goal, trying to blank him out. Then, as I turned,

sons and daughters can change the outcome. My dad’s actually said to me that having my own family and not spending as much time with my parents was part of the problem for them. I did find myself wondering: would me going out with Dad, us talking, have changed anything? Should I have been there, trying to be the glue keeping them together? I couldn’t help but question myself. It would have been pretty impossible to be with them more often: I was in Manchester most of the week and the odd day or

it sounds selfish but it was such a privilege, such an amazing feeling. I’ve experienced it twice now, and nothing in my life, on a football pitch or anywhere else, comes close to the intensity of that moment: the thrill and the awe, holding your son in your arms for the very first time. I carried Brooklyn the few steps over to his mum and laid his head on the pillow next to hers: the two most precious people in the whole world, looking so much alike and so beautiful, too. That picture will be in

stumbling away. The ninety minutes ended 1–1 and we went into extra-time. To be honest, it was a bit like a training game: attackers vs defenders, with Arsenal camped around our penalty area. But then, with about ten minutes left before penalties, Patrick Vieira – of all people, one of the best midfielders in the world – misplaced a pass on halfway. Ryan Giggs got onto the ball and just started running. Giggsy was one of the few of us who had any legs left because he’d come on as a sub after

for the draw. All it took then was one misjudgement, right at the end, to put Romania into the quarter-finals instead of us. I was standing near the halfway line when Phil Neville slid in on their player and the penalty was given. It was a strange moment. Unreal: it felt like it shouldn’t have been happening, like it was part of another game, not the one we’d been playing for the last ninety minutes. I felt so bad for Phil. He’d had a good game that afternoon and a good tournament. When the

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