I BARELY LEFT MY HOUSE FOR SIX MONTHS AND I BEGAN HAVING SUICIDAL THOUGHTS. WHAT FOOTBALL MANAGER IS GOING TO WANT TO HIRE A DEPRESSED GOALKEEPER?
Former Chelsea, Millwall and Newport County gloveman Lenny Pidgeley fell out of love with football as he tried to keep up appearances while suffering with depression – then someone else announced his retirement
Interview Lewis Watson
BETWEEN THE LINES
People wouldn’t have thought that there was anything going wrong with my life. But that’s one of the toughest things about depression. It’s called a silent killer for a reason. At my worst, I couldn’t leave my bedroom. I would be crippled with anxiety and fear, even though the logical side of my brain was telling me that I was being ridiculous. It could be the smallest of things, such as looking out of the window and seeing a huge gust of wind, and I would start panicking. I have sympathy for those who don’t understand, because unless you’ve experienced it, it’s pretty hard to explain. But I’ll try.
Depression and anxiety haven’t always had such a stranglehold on my life. I started out on my football journey by going through the Chelsea academy from as early as the under-10s. I was a typical happy kid, from what I remember: just football-mad and obsessed by everything Chelsea Football Club. My whole family were Chelsea – my Dad would hardly miss a game and always be in the pubs around the stadium, so for me to be able to join the club at such a young age was fantastic. Looking back now, it felt relatively normal at the time, as that was all I’d ever known.
In hindsight, I’ve been able to realise how fortunate I was to be a part of such an incredible team at Chelsea. I was still so raw. I’d had a fairly successful [2003-04] season on loan at Watford when I was 19 and thought that I’d probably found my level, until I received an unlikely call during the off-season. I was preparing to head back to Vicarage Road for a second season, but the new manager – a certain Jose Mourinho – was adamant that he wanted me to be third-choice goalkeeper for the upcoming campaign.
I think I was playing pool with my mates at the time. Imagine that: little old me being called by the reigning Champions League-winning manager to play for my boyhood club. I couldn’t possibly say no, even if I’d wanted to. I’d like to think I was pretty level-headed even then. I have no clue what he saw of me at Watford or why he wanted me to stick around, but I was honoured. I quickly accepted that I wasn’t going to be getting much game time; being third in line behind Petr Cech and Carlo Cudicini was fine, an
