Goalkeepers are crazy, clowns, saviours, thinkers, flappable and unflappable, and a breed apart. Pope John Paul II was one; so was Albert Camus, author of the aptly titled The Stranger. David James is another.
The ex-England keeper and Astro World Cup pundit has been all the above and more. Spice Boy. Celebrity Mastermind. Strictly Come Dancing star. Eco warrior. Armani model. Bankrupt. Artist. Manager. Not necessarily in that order.
Of all the former stars that dropped (innuendo unintended) by the studio during the tournament, no one belied his reputation as a player more emphatically than the man Liverpool fans know as “Calamity James”. Nor turned his hand to so many good causes since hanging up his beekeeper-sized gloves.
On TV, we hear his in-depth analysis delivered in tones that are genuinely dulcet. But they give no hint of his colourful back story. Meant to be the next in a long line of fabled Anfield custodians, a few costly fumbles were enough for Scouse wits to do their worst — and the name stuck.
Catching up with him before a “Meet ‘n’ Greet” session between games at Shangri-La Kuala Lumpur’s Arthur Bar & Grill, he comes across as a man of many parts, who is now making saves of a very different kind.
It is often said that athletes “die” twice, the first time being when they retire from sport. Not James: he’s lived the fullest, most diverse and fascinating “after life” an ex-player could wish for. “How you follow it [a sporting career] is a human problem,” he says.
Now 52, he speaks in the same sotto voce we heard while he tried to make sense of a manic tournament. He adds: “There’s a propensity to be totally focused on your career, but when you leave, you don’t know where to go. Fortunately, I’ve always had other interests.
“Football is a 24/7 job and I had to focus on it to make sure my football ability was on show at the expense of those interests. I played 1,000 games in all competitions,” he says, before quipping, “[Lionel] Messi has just joined the club!”
Even the little maestro will not have the smorgasbord of options that James enjoys.
Although he is currently revelling in the role of pundit, it was not love at first sound bite. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to go into it,” he admits. “Watching and hearing other people assessing my performance; then assessing their valuation as being incorrect, cheap or glamorised in some way, I thought, ‘I just can’t do that’.
“But I was given an opportunity with mock-ups of situations in matches to keep things real rather than glamorise or dramatise, and I got right into it. Before I come on the Astro floor, I will have done hours of prep and have lots of stats. I’m very analytical and the world of punditry suits my character.”
On the field, he didn’t win the trophies his talent deserved: a lone League Cup with Liverpool and an FA Cup winners’ medal with Portsmouth being scant reward from a career of 572 top-level games. It hit him when a flashy lifestyle and expensive divorce from ex-wife Tanya left him bankrupt. He had to sell his memorabilia to get back on his feet and could have done with a bit more.
He won 53 caps for England and was a proud owner of a clean sheet record of 169 games until Petr Čech beat it. He still has the most penalty saves (13) in the English Premier League. Another testament to his longevity was when he became the oldest World Cup debutant at 39 years and 321 days in 2010 — a record that has since been beaten twice.
From the Kop to Kerala, it has been quite a journey. He is still on it if you count driving an ancient Chrysler on rapeseed oil as actually travelling.
“It wasn’t when it broke down on the motorway with four kids in the car,” he concedes.
Home is in Devon, deep in the English countryside and far from the madding football crowd. He is restoring an old house, but it does not mean he has gone out to pasture: the house gets done between all manner of projects far and wide. And his partner is from Hong Kong, which often brings him in this direction.
