Graeme Souness, now 71, finds himself at an age when many of his companions are passing away, moving on to that great football pitch in the sky.
“I’ve lost a few recently,” he reflects, mentioning the losses of fellow football icons Trevor Francis and Gianluca Vialli, both of whom passed last year, greatly affecting him. “I’ve also got a few others dealing with dementia.”
Though he may seem fit and well, it’s hard to gauge reality. After all, this is a man who underwent a triple bypass at just 38, thinking he was in peak condition.
“Nothing brings it home to you about how fragile life is like looking in the mirror and saying to yourself, ‘You are not so special after all, are you, son?,” expresses Graeme Souness, 71.
Souness and Karen during their wedding in Las Vegas in 1994, along with her two children.
He takes nothing for granted. “Nothing brings it home to you about how fragile life is like looking in the mirror and telling yourself, ‘You are not so special after all, are you, son?’”
“After my surgery, I recall sitting in the shower while a nurse washed me. I didn’t even possess the strength to raise my own arms. She was fantastic — not allowing me to wallow in self-pity and ensuring I found humor in the situation. But that’s a moment that stays with you.”
“One moment you’re riding high, basking in life’s glory, entering a room after winning the European Cup with a Miss World on your arm, and then… you realize you’re just not that special.”
“Regardless of how cocky one may be — someone once remarked about me, ‘If Souness were a bar of chocolate, he’d eat himself,’ and there was some truth to that — it’s impossible to escape the reality. Life is delicate and unpredictable.”
Now, the hair that once defined Souness continues to turn whiter each year. “I view it like standing on a train track, gazing into a tunnel while hearing something approaching — yet I have no clue what it entails.”
Who could have anticipated that the tough man of British football — known as much for his physical confrontations and feuds as for his skills on the pitch — would transform into such a philosophical figure? Still, he chuckles at a recent ‘showdown’ with a footballing friend who seemed to be the next one on the list to go.
He and Alan Hansen — both from Scotland and Liverpool FC legends — share a long history, both on and off the field. He recalls receiving news from Hansen’s wife about his deteriorating condition, which filled him with dread. “I had been communicating with her, calling from Alan’s phone — his contact is saved in my phone as ‘Big Al’ — but on that day, I happened to be on a train in Germany.”
“While trying to locate my seat, my phone rang and ‘Big Al’ was on the line. I initially thought it was the dreaded call from his wife.”
“I couldn’t answer it. I didn’t want to hear it. After some time, I gathered the courage to call back. And there was Big Al himself! He was giving me a hard time about my commentary. I’ve never felt so relieved to hear him tell me to ‘eff off.’”
Karen, 64, supported him during recovery, providing strength — except for that moment when her fainting incident occurred after his infection necessitated a second operation.
Souness in action for Liverpool during a League Division One match against Notts County at Meadow Lane in 1984.
Souness with Trevor Francis, the fellow football legend who passed away last year.
Currently, Souness is in a contemplative state after recording a podcast detailing his life for the Daily Mail’s Everything I Know About Me series. Listening to it feels like diving into a comprehensive ‘Who’s Who’ of football, with his career encompassing mentions of famous names such as Bob Paisley and Jack Charlton.
What an adventurous life it has been! The language in dressing rooms was quite colorful back then, the atmosphere not adhering to modern sensibilities, and communal baths were a common occurrence!
He shares quirky anecdotes, including sharing a room with a young Kenny Dalglish, who mistakenly believed Souness was gay due to his hairdryer, and his experience in a communal bath with the towering figure of Charlton, who had strong opinions about Souness’s two-in-one shampoo and conditioner routine.
Throughout his tales are moments of confrontation and accolades, victories and losses. There’s a lot of reflection on mortality amidst the high living.
While speaking, he becomes emotional when recalling the day when the legendary Jock Stein, head coach of Celtic, collapsed and died on the job with Souness observing as the team doctor attempted to revive him. Most Souness stories commence with winning a European Cup or dominating a match against Leeds, but this one concludes with tears. “A great man,” he asserts.
The same sentiment applies to Joe Fagan, another revered mentor from his Liverpool days. Tears are shed again as Souness recounts riding a team bus at 31 while being informed his mother was unlikely to survive the night. “We were scheduled to play Southampton, and I had stopped in Oxford to call my brother from a payphone. He told me she wasn’t going to make it. When I returned to the bus, Joe Fagan chastised me for being late. ‘Who do you think you are, holding everyone up?’”
“I stayed silent and sat down. But someone informed Fagan of the situation. That man came over, put his arm around me, and stayed that way from Oxford to Southampton. That was his character.”
It’s somewhat surprising, given Souness’s representation of a certain era (he remarks, “People can label me a dinosaur if they wish”), to hear him articulate his life’s peaks and valleys in such modern, sensitive language. Has he softened?
At points, he presents his life narrative like a ‘game of two halves’, marking his heart bypass in 1991 — and the vulnerability associated with it — as a sort of half-time break.
“I never felt fear like I did when I was alone in that intensive care unit,” he recaps, reflecting on one of his most vulnerable moments. “The night light was on, and I stared at the clock on the wall, telling myself not to sleep now, as that’s how people pass away. They do warn you about significant psychological issues afterward, but they didn’t back then. I certainly faced challenges; oftentimes, I’d cry for no apparent reason.”
In retrospect, how did that near-death experience influence him? “I emerged from it resolved to change my life and be a better person. I likely was… for about half a day.”
“I liken it to those driver awareness programs; you complete them and think, ‘That was impactful,’ making a commitment to be a safe driver. Until, of course, you revert to your old habits.”
Perceptions of Souness likely vary based on your age or football allegiance. For many, he is a triumphant figure in British football, part of the legendary Liverpool squad that secured five league titles and three European Cups in the late 70s and early 80s.
His first marriage to millionaire’s daughter Danielle Wilson ended after eight years.
He estimates having won 33 trophies throughout his career (“11 of those as a manager”) and transitioned into a third career as a TV pundit after his playing and managerial tenures. However, controversy has consistently followed him.
Following his appointment as Rangers manager in 1986, he received death threats and required Special Branch security due to signing the Catholic player Mo Johnston for a historically Protestant team. This segment of his life now reads like sheer insanity. Despite that, some individuals on Scotland’s tribal West Coast still bear grudges against him.
“I have no regrets regarding that decision,” he insists. “I grew up in Edinburgh, where religion was never a significant factor. I was married to a Catholic then. I brought in Maurice Johnston because it was in the team’s best interests. No regrets.”
However, he holds regrets over other incidents. Many in Merseyside still resent him for giving an interview to The Sun regarding his heart surgery, particularly in light of the newspaper’s defamatory coverage surrounding the Hillsborough tragedy. As Liverpool’s manager at that time, he sees it as a profound error in judgment. “I should have resigned,” he acknowledges. “I’ll be apologizing for that the rest of my life.”
Souness’s combative nature — in football and life — appears ingrained. He believes it contributed to his success as a footballer but rendered him a flawed manager.
Today, he shares a sort of apology, echoing Frank Sinatra’s sentiments when he states, “I lived my life on my terms. It took me until my 70s to reflect on my past and realize I shouldn’t have been so confrontational,” he admits.
“I’ve been successful but could have achieved more had I played the game differently, shown more consideration for the fact that others may not share the same passions.”
Souness embodies the essence of the old-school mentality. He describes himself as a ‘prefab kid, raised on a council estate in Edinburgh.’ He acknowledges that his life could have taken a different turn, as ‘let’s be honest, kids from council estates don’t always reach their full potential,’ yet when football came calling, his mother supported him wholeheartedly. “Madness, in retrospect. I was living in London at 15. I cannot envision any of my children doing something similar, but my mother sought the best for me and desired that opportunity.”
An early disappointment still lingers. He was ecstatic to be signed by Spurs, only to face disillusionment when he was deemed inadequate and transferred for £30,000. The figure still irritates him. “I was worth more, and I knew it.” Does it still sting? “Absolutely.” But that setback motivated him. “I had something to prove; I knew I was good — and they were going to recognize that.”
His life has been the epitome of what could inspire a cinematic narrative. He refrains from delving into the chapter with the Miss World on his arm (for the record, it was Mary Stavin, who later dated George Best). “My wife will read this!” he exclaims, but we can safely assert he embodied the reputation footballers held at the time.
“I lived every young man’s fantasy. Winning the European Cup and celebrating with a Miss World by my side. Naturally!”
His first marriage to millionaire’s daughter Danielle Wilson crumbled after eight years.
When asked if it’s possible to be a good footballer while also being a good husband and father, he struggles to provide a clear response.
“To a degree, you need a certain level of arrogance to excel as a professional athlete, and that can negatively impact those around you. Others can get hurt.”
“I enjoyed a stable upbringing that laid the foundation for all I accomplished, but my three children from my first marriage did not experience the same.”
“Karen [his second wife of 30 years] also experienced a divorce and came into the relationship with two children from her previous marriage. Only our son, James, is the exception.”
Just three weeks into their relationship, Souness was informed by doctors about the necessity for his heart bypass surgery. He still can’t fathom why she didn’t just leave him at that moment.
“I was in peak physical condition. We had only been dating for some weeks when I had to tell her: ‘Listen, I won’t see you for a few days because I have to undergo open-heart surgery.’ I could sense her disbelief.”
Karen, 64, stood by him during recovery, providing strength — with the exception of that one time she fainted while sliding down the wall after he developed an infection and required a second operation.
Interestingly, it was actually Karen who played a pivotal role in him bidding farewell to that iconic moustache of his. The facial hair has gained notoriety in its own right (it even boasts an X account), but it vanished after Karen stated her aversion to it.
“She mentioned, ‘I dislike it. Get rid of it,’ and so I did.”
When did this happen? He measures his life not in calendar years but by his football affiliations. “I believe I was at Blackburn at the time.”
In a broader sense, how has Karen impacted his life? “How can I articulate her significance? I loved her from day one and am still head over heels. I feel very fortunate. If there’s a secret, it’s that she keeps me on a very tight leash.”
“She won’t tolerate any of my nonsense. She stands her ground with me. And having Irish heritage means I don’t test my luck.”
“Nowadays, I only choose fights I can win.”
Tune in to Graeme on the enthralling podcast Everything I Know About Me — available on Apple or Spotify
