About Me
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Although my name has appeared in many headlines for many reasons (good, I hope, as well as bad), I suppose the abiding image most people have of me is standing in the middle of the Stadio Delle Alpi in Turin, weeping like a child in front of millions.The instant the referee waved that yellow card in front of my nose, for a foul on Thomas Berthold during our semi-final against Germany at Italia'90, I knew that no matter the result (and remember the score was 1-1 at the time) my World Cup was over. My eyes filled up and the tears ran down my cheeks; my mind had gone - as Gary Lineker indicated to Bobby Robson on the bench.I was devastated, and I'd still have felt devastated even if England had gone on to win the World Cup. I felt I'd let myself down, I'd let my friends and family down, I'd let my adopted family - my team-mates - down, and I'd let my whole country down. Sometimes it isn't much fun being Paul Gascoigne.There were more tears back at the team hotel, not because we'd lost a football match that we deserved to win but because my summer camp was over. To me, the World Cup had been a brilliant, all-expenses paid holiday funded by the FA - great weather, great food, great hotels, great pals and the occasional game of football thrown in - and I knew that the next holiday I took, I would have to pay for myself.I don't doubt there were buckets of tears lying around the German and Portuguese dressing rooms this week, because who remembers the losing semi-finalists? If Michael Ballack and Deco are anything like me, they won't even watch tomorrow's final. I didn't, I was travelling up on the train to Newcastle from Luton Airport while the game was going on and I couldn't have cared less who won or lost. I was gutted; I simply wasn't interested in hearing about Germany or Argentina. I'm told that Luciano 'Five Bellies' Pavarotti's Nessun Dorma, which became the anthem of Italia 90, means 'none shall sleep'. How too bloody true that was.At the time, of course, I consoled myself with the thought that, at the age of 23, there were at least two, and maybe even three, World Cups ahead of me. Little did I know that Italia 90 was the start and the end of my World Cup adventure. That's why I envy Zinedine Zidane: he already has one winners' medal with France and, at 34, he could win a second in his very last match. That's the stuff of fairytales.I was in shock for weeks, just as I expect Sven-Goran Eriksson and his players will be in shock now. Looking back on England's defeat, it's easy to criticise, but everyone knows mistakes were made. I think the whole Wayne Rooney foot farce acted as a distraction to the squad from the moment they arrived in Germany, but even a fully-fit Rooney isn't an out-and-out striker, so we played Portugal without anyone to lead the attack.I was pleased for David Beckham that he scored against Ecuador because no one has given more to his country than he has, but the midfield that some 'experts' thought would be the best in the World Cup never looked like living up to that billing. I like to think - if we had qualified for the final 16 years ago and I hadn't been suspended - that, given my earlier displays, I would have been in the running for the Player of the Tournament award. Could you honestly say the same about Frank Lampard or Steven Gerrard?As I warned even before the World Cup started, England's midfield lacked someone who could get the ball and take on two or three players, like Chris Waddle used to do, or John Barnes or Peter Beardsley or - some might even say - Paul Gascoigne. So, without a Gazza and a recognised striker, it was great that England went as far as they did, but they weren't going to get away with it once things turned serious in the later stages.Although his reputation has taken a bit of a dent, Eriksson will not be out of work long and I wish his successor Steve McClaren every success but - and don't laugh - I quite fancy a crack at the job at some future date. 'Gazza for England manager?'' I can hear some of you chortle but I do want to became a manger and I'd be telling lies if I didn't admit that my ultimate ambition has to be managing England.But it's not going to happen simply by talking. I know there's a hell of a lot of work to put in but, yes, just as I dreamt of playing for Newcastle and England as a lad, my dream is to be involved as a coach in the years ahead, probably starting at youth level.And what are my credentials you might ask? Well, for a start I know all the tricks and cons - probably better than anyone, in fact - but I truly believe I have all the man-management skills plus, in my own inimitable style, I think I could inspire those around me.I've also learnt a lot from working with some brilliant coaches, like Sir Bobby, Terry Venables, who really understood all the different personalities you need to make a team, Walter Smith, who was a real gentleman until a flying boot came past your ear and embedded itself in the dressing room wall at Ibrox, and Dino Zoff at Lazio. You don't share time with men like that and not pick up a few tips along the way.They say life begins at 40 and, as that's a landmark I will reach on May 27 next year, then it's time to get serious about my 'second life'. I hope I don't sound boastful when I say I was one of the best footballers in the world of my generation and I am proud - very proud - of what I achieved. I'm often asked whether, if we had won the World Cup, my life would have turned out differently? No, nothing would have changed, I would still have been two people - Gazza and Paul Gascoigne.I didn't ask to be Paul Gascoigne, just as Robbie Williams didn't ask to be who he is, but do you know what, I rather like both Gazza and Paul Gascoigne, and just think what a party we'll all have if I am the manager who brings home the World Cup in 2014...
