Ander Herrera: I would never have left Bilbao but for Manchester United
The Spaniard has many footballing heroes - from Sir Bobby Charlton to Luciano Galletti – and the great enthusiast of the game wants to become a winner at Old Trafford
On the first day Ander Herrera walked into Carrington he was met by Sir Bobby Charlton. Just when he thought it could not get any better. The photograph is one of his prized possessions, his profile picture on Twitter, and Herrera looks almost offended when he is asked if he really knew anything about the man who
won the European Cup and played 758 times for Manchester United,
the club Herrera had just joined. “Of course,” he shoots back. “Those of us who like football know about him and I love football.”
It does not take long to realise that it is no exaggeration; as he talks, the enthusiasm is clear.
It is a wet Wednesday afternoon 15 miles south of Manchester and Herrera has just arrived with Juan Mata from Carrington, where he is drawn to the photographs on the walls; historic moments at “perhaps the world’s biggest club”. Bigger, Herrera says, than even he imagined.
“You go to the US and there are a thousand people outside the hotel. You play Real Madrid and there are 109,000 people, almost all in United shirts, 80,000 against LA Galaxy, 60,000 against Roma. Every day at Carrington there’s someone else I haven’t met yet. You get a sense of the magnitude of the club. You go into the dressing room and see Fletcher, Carrick, Rooney, Van Persie, guys who have won it all and been at the highest level for 10 years, not two or three.”
“I would never have left Athletic if it hadn’t been for a club like United. I left a different, unique club, with a special philosophy and incredible people. It’s a club that few of us have had the privilege of playing for and, who knows, but for United I might have been there 10 years. But this is the biggest club in England, a new project, new players and a new coach. Desire too: it’s been 25 years and the players are conscious of that. They’re determined to put United back where it belongs.”
Herrera continues: “I’m 25 tomorrow [Thursday] and I thought it was the right time. I wasn’t thinking: ‘The train’s leaving, the train’s leaving … ’ but United is an opportunity you can’t turn down.”
It is also an opportunity Herrera might have thought had passed him by: the train had already left once, last summer.
“Much more was said than really happened,” he insists. “From my point of view, it’s simple: United made an offer to Athletic, I told the clubs to talk, I would listen and Athletic turned it down. United offered a lot of money but not the buyout clause. Athletic said no and that’s it.”
This time, United did pay the €36m clause. “In Spain, players have an official price tag, just like shirts hanging in a shop do,” Herrera explains. “It wasn’t a difficult decision.” A year on, the move happened.
“I hadn’t been wondering what might have been or worrying over whether they’d return. It was going from ‘very, very good’ to ‘excellent’; it wasn’t escaping a bad situation. I was happy in Bilbao, so my thoughts were on enjoying playing for Athletic … we made it to the Champions League, so it’s safe to say I enjoyed it and gave everything. I understand that there are people who didn’t like me leaving but most understand that this is United.
“I didn’t talk to Louis van Gaal, I spoke to the club but I knew he was demanding, very sincere and direct, and he has shown that. He says things to your face. He protects you and supports you when you’re doing your bit. He’s very disciplined, the team always comes first and he doesn’t let you relax. Every training session has to count and I like that.
“One of the things I’ve liked about Van Gaal is that he gives
mucha, mucha, mucha importance to the ball, to possession. He believes that if we have the ball it’s easier to attack. It’s not ‘ball or run’, they’re not separate things. Run, yes but with the ball. I prefer that; you don’t get as tired.”
Herrera sees some parallels with Marcelo Bielsa, his coach at Athletic before Ernesto Valverde. “He’s vigorous, intense, he gesticulates a lot.” However, was Bielsa as
loco as they said? “Yes,” Herrera replies, “but a
loco bueno. That’s a good thing: he thinks about football 24 hours a day, I’d never seen anyone work so much, analyse opponents so well.
“Van Gaal’s sessions have some similarities: he’s hands on. Bielsa made me a better player and I’m sure Van Gaal will, too.”
Herrera may look slight, young, too, but there is something in his initial response: “winner”.Colleagues say he is
pesado: relentless, tough, hard-working, always talking. A pain. He knows referees’ names, linesmen’s, too; he reads the game superbly, both tactically and emotionally. He knows football inside out and has, they say, an innate ability to empathise. He’s a players’ player. A leader.
“It’s very, very, very early to say that,” he counters. “I see myself as a worker, shoulder to shoulder with my team-mates. Responsibility? Yes, always but I don’t see myself as the saviour of anything or more than anyone else. A leader? ‘Leader’ is a big word at United. We have leaders like Rooney, Van Persie, Fletcher, Cleverly … I’m here to contribute. Maybe one day I can be considered a leader. Not now.”
That idea of a players’ player is compelling and Herrera is a fans’ player, too. The son of a footballer who played for Zaragoza between 1982 and 1988 and later became sporting director, he sees the game differently – from the pitch, the dressing room, the boardroom and the stands.
During the tour, Herrera met David Beckham. “A legend,” he says. What he did not tell Beckham was how much he enjoyed one of his worst moments. In 2004, the Englishman scored a superb free-kick to give Real Madrid the lead in the Copa del Rey final only to lose 3-2 to Zaragoza in extra time. That began a slide that culminated in a historic three-year trophy drought. Herrera, a Zaragoza fan who began going at the age of “four or five”, was there. “In the corner where Galletti’s goal went in,” he says, beaming. Luciano Galletti’s goal was the second, right? “No,” he grins, “it was the orgasm! The winner.”
Galletti is one of Herrera’s idols. He runs through others. Soon he’s on a roll that is eloquent in itself. “Gustavo Poyet. Juan Esnáider. Galletti. Aimar. Cani, who is still playing. Fernando Cáceres. Nayim. Milito …
both Militos. Santi Aragón: he’s maybe the one I’m most like in style. David Villa. Andoni Cedrún, the goalkeeper.” There’s enthusiasm in every word and admiration in every name – and there are lots of names.
As the list grows and conversation heads to other teams, it is tempting to conclude that every player is his idol – and, in a way, every player is.
One of the most striking things about talking to him is the number of footballers he mentions, as if determined not to forget anyone, and the respectful, almost reverential tone with which he does so.
Ilusión is a word he uses often, too. Enthusiasm, hopes, dreams.
Football is Herrera’s vocation, one he defends and is proud of; one he is protective of. He says he is a
futbolero, a lover of the game, and a
forófo: a fanatic, “transformed” by it, even when watching his friend Fernando Amorebieta play for Fulham. As Spanish football confronts a crisis, he has not remained silent. He likes the game too much.
He has supported protests at Real Zaragoza, backed Real Murcia players as their club went through the courts, suffering an administrative relegation then promotion again, and spoke out about empty seats at the Europa League final. “You read that Sevilla fans and Benfica fans haven’t got tickets, and then see an empty space and, well, something’s wrong … ” he says.
“I’m not trying to be anyone. I just see it as doing for others what you’d like them to do for you,” he adds. “There are clubs in Spain that aren’t solvent and players with the same
ilusión as me, the same desire and professionalism, who find themselves in bad situations.
“I still enjoy football. I love football. I love my profession. What I don’t like is cases where owners prioritise their interests over the club’s. Football can’t be solely about profit. Look, no one’s stupid: no one wants to lose money b ut nor should it be about people getting rich off people’s dreams.”
Futbolero, forófo … There’s another Spanish word for people like him too:
friki. A bit of an anorak, an enthusiast. The passion goes back a long way. It is not only Zaragoza players he mentions. He talks about Andrés Iniesta, Juan Román Riquelme and Memphis Depay. The PSV player’s first name momentarily escapes him, so Herrera looks it up. It matters.
It is a familiar routine. Herrera’s dad was technical secretary at Zaragoza, Ander his unofficial assistant. “He’d travel to games and phone me up: ‘Put the telly on and watch him, him and him.’ I’d have been 12 or 13 and I’d be there, writing it down. Then I’d report back: ‘I liked the No7, I didn’t like him, I did like him … ’
“I watched a lot of football. A lot. I still do. Last season I watched some pretty
friki games. Second division, Copa Libertadores, the Brazilian league, the Argentinian league. I like to watch Boca, for Riquelme. I’ve seen … ” there’s a pause. “Yeah, some
friki matches. I watch a lot. I love it.
“I don’t know if my perspective is different because my dad played but I’ve always admired footballers: second division players, second division B players. When I was a kid anyone who played professionally I admired intensely – and now here I am at Manchester United. Imagine.”
I love him already.