Gary Lineker on a world without sport

Gary Lineker, the BBC's higest paid presenter, says he's in a no-win situation over salary cuts. Photo / NYT

Seconds after taking my call, Gary Lineker groans. Is everything all right? He suffered a back spasm following a workout, he tells me. "It comes when I overtrain. There's nothing else to do, so I just overdid it. It's a weak spot from playing hundreds of football matches . . . I'm stooped. I'm looking like an old man now."

There is little to do because the coronavirus pandemic has halted football fixtures across the world. After a career as one of England's great goal scorers, Lineker, 59, is now presenter of the Match of the Day highlights programme — and the BBC's highest-paid star.

Gary Lineker, the BBC's higest paid presenter, says he's in a no-win situation over salary cuts. Photo / NYT

He should be leading coverage of Liverpool's procession to a first league title in 30 years. In his other role, as anchor of BT Sport's broadcast of the Champions League, he should also be guiding fans through the climax of Europe's prestigious club tournament.

He should be preparing for the Euro 2020 Championships later this summer. Excitement would normally be building over England's chances after their encouraging showing at the last World Cup.

These storylines are on pause. The global lockdown means matches will not resume until "it is safe and appropriate to do so". The Euros are postponed until next year. Lineker was among the busiest people in TV. He took my call last week because, well, there isn't much else to do. "My diary went from being absolutely solid for six weeks to having absolutely nothing in it whatsoever, basically overnight," he says.

Lineker, who is twice-divorced, lives alone at his home in Barnes, south-west London. The house is usually buzzing with four sons from his first marriage dipping in and out. But three of them had developed possible Covid-19 symptoms and were staying away. Lineker was self-isolating.

Time is filled watching the news, bingeing on Netflix, reading, cooking (his Instagram account has been temporarily converted to a quick-fire cooking how-to), tweeting. For now, workouts are off the schedule. "[It's] groundhog day," he says.

With Paul Gascoigne at Spurs, after the 1991 FA Cup semi-final. Photo / Getty Images

As a football fanatic, it's oddly reassuring for me to hear Lineker's voice. We've not met in person but he has been a familiar presence all my life. "I can only apologise," he jokes.

In the hiatus, footballing memories are all we are left with. Lineker has provided many. Remember the tanned striker at the 1986 World Cup who won the "golden boot" for ending as the tournament's top scorer? What about the 1990 World Cup semi-final? With Paul Gascoigne in tears after a yellow card that would ban him from the final, a concerned Lineker mouthed to the bench: "Have a word with him?"

• Covid19.govt.nz: The Government's official Covid-19 advisory website

More recently, in 2016, there was the time he presented Match of the Day in his underwear, satisfying a wager after his boyhood team Leicester City unexpectedly won the Premier League.

Just like all football obsessives, Lineker is bereft. "It's a massive part of my life," he says. "I miss going to the big games. I miss doing Match of the Day. I don't know when it's going to return."

Without new action to discuss, we indulge in nostalgia. We both loved the recent documentary on Diego Maradona, directed by British film-maker Asif Kapadia. It tracks the Argentina legend during the 1980s, playing gloriously for Italian club Napoli, even as his private life crumbles amid cocaine-fuelled partying.

With Diego Maradona at a Football League Centenary Match at Wembley in 1987. Lineker holds 'no grudges' over the Argentina legend's infamous 'hand of god' goal in the 1986 World Cup. Photo / Getty

"All the madness that surrounded [Maradona], the addiction and stuff, I found it quite sad actually. I thought [the documentary] was quite moving at times. I've made films with him myself . . . three days of utter insanity in Buenos Aires with just a million people around him. The nuttiness that goes on. It's just incredible. He's worshipped. People are screaming and diving at his feet."

Kapadia's film recounts the infamous 1986 World Cup quarter-final between Argentina and England. Remember that game? Maradona's "hand of god" pushed the ball into England's net, unnoticed by the referee. Then minutes later, as controversy raged, he slalomed between English defenders to produce perhaps the greatest goal in the tournament's history.

Lineker also scored a goal in that match. But it has been cut from the documentary. "That's the first thing I thought when I saw it: 'Where the hell is my goal?'" he says. "It was better than their first one, that's for sure. At least I headed the damn thing."

Despite the flagrant cheating, Lineker says he holds "no grudges" against Maradona, a player he ranks alongside another Argentine, Lionel Messi, as the best he's ever seen. Anyway, he admits, Argentina were "marginally" the better side that day.

He is more wistful about another England World Cup defeat, versus West Germany four years later. "It doesn't hurt. It's just, if someone says to you, 'If you look back on your career, what's your one regret?' — I'm not sure regret is the right word, probably disappointment — it's that semi-final."

Ah yes. Remember that game? One night in Turin. Germany's freakish opening goal. Lineker equalises. Winger Chris Waddle hits the post in injury time. Waddle skies his penalty in the shoot-out. Defeat. Gazza in tears again.

"I had a conversation with Bobby Robson [England manager at the time] a year or so before he passed away," says Lineker. "Every now and again, he would think back and go: 'If only.' Because that's your immortality. Winning a World Cup. That's the only real thing I look back on [and think] ah, shit."

Is there anything Lineker could have done to change the result? "I could have scored another one," he says.

For decades, Lineker seemed an unimpeachable, unifying sporting hero. As a player, he never received a yellow card — let alone a red — for foul play. As a presenter, he arbitrates between loudmouth pundits. The face of self-deprecating adverts for Walkers crisps, universal likeability was his forte.

That changed with a tweet. "The treatment by some towards these young refugees is hideously racist and utterly heartless. What's happening to our country?" he wrote in October 2016 as children from a migrant camp in Calais arrived in the UK.

The comment drew the ire of tabloid newspapers. The Sun called for him to be sacked over "migrant lies" and branded him a "leftie luvvie". Then Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn commended his "compassion". It was a transformation in life for Lineker, whose father Barry sold fruit from a market stall and was an ardent Margaret Thatcher supporter.

The refugee tweet came a few months after the UK's Brexit referendum. Lineker was outed as an ardent Remainer. He used his Twitter account to debate the issue, his feed revealing a divided country. He was derided as an out-of-touch snob — and praised as an enlightened liberal.

Some of this was overdone, he says. The abuse, in particular, was online, never in person: "People are a bit braver when they're hidden behind a keyboard." With Britain having formally left the EU in January and negotiations ongoing over future trade arrangements, Lineker is retreating from the subject.

"[Brexit] will be put on hold for a little while because there are more important fish to fry at the moment," he says. "I've decided to end talking about it now . . . Even if it does go pear-shaped, I won't stand up and say, 'I told you so.' I just want it to work now and do the best that we can with the situation that we've been dealt."

Lineker is also delighted that attacks on the BBC, from both left and rightwing politicians, have ceased. The institution's place as a trusted broadcaster was shaken in the referendum fallout, but its coverage of the pandemic, which Lineker describes as "informative and serious", has been praised.

While the broadcaster was under fire, he courted controversy by saying the mandatory UK licence fee, the primary way the BBC is funded, should be voluntary. Such a move would lead to a vast reduction in revenues and likely job cuts.

He says the comments were "misconstrued" and has since recanted: "What I said is, it'd be so much easier if we weren't a licence. Because if you work for the BBC, and I'm sure people right across all departments in the BBC will know this — particularly if you're high profile — you get constantly thrown at you: 'We pay your wages…'

"My comments were always basically along the lines of: 'I just wish it was a subscription channel and I wouldn't get this any more.' Which was kind of a selfish perspective and it came across wrongly. I was wrong about that. Having looked at it and studied it a little bit, I thought, I need to make myself clear on this, because I don't really see a viable alternative. [The BBC] is great value for money."

As Lineker and I chat, however, another controversy is brewing. The union that represents Premier League footballers has resisted demands that elite players — who collectively earn an estimated £2.9bn a year — take a 30 per cent salary cut, arguing this would mean less money in taxes for the NHS. Meanwhile, some billionaire club owners have declared they will use the UK government's furlough scheme to fund the wages of non-playing staff.

Politicians leapt on the row. Julian Knight, chair of the digital, culture, media and sport committee of MPs, decried the sport's "moral vacuum", insisting players agree to wage reductions. (Prior to his election, Knight wrote a book providing tips on tax avoidance.)

Lineker's initial suggestion is that players donate part of their salaries to less high-earning workers at their clubs. "It might be a good time for players, certainly, to help," he tells me. "It could be a really good PR exercise for football and footballers if they perhaps help the staff that are going to be really suffering during this."

Will he also accept cutting his taxpayer-funded BBC salary, worth £1.75m last year? Lineker says he is "considering" how best to contribute. "It's a no-win for me," he says. "Either I come out with something and say it and then everyone goes, 'He's just trying to do it to sound good,' or if I don't do it, then I'll get lambasted." Two days later, Lineker reveals he will donate two months' wages to the Red Cross, saying "lots of other people who are in a position of relative wealth can do something similar. I am sure many will."

In 1983 at Leicester City, his hometown team, where he made his debut in 1979. By the time he retired from playing in 1994, Lineker had scored 330 goals in 567 games. Photo / Getty

As Lineker and I chat, however, another controversy is brewing. The union that represents Premier League footballers has resisted demands that elite players — who collectively earn an estimated £2.9bn a year — take a 30 per cent salary cut, arguing this would mean less money in taxes for the NHS. Meanwhile, some billionaire club owners have declared they will use the UK government's furlough scheme to fund the wages of non-playing staff.

Politicians leapt on the row. Julian Knight, chair of the digital, culture, media and sport committee of MPs, decried the sport's "moral vacuum", insisting players agree to wage reductions. (Prior to his election, Knight wrote a book providing tips on tax avoidance.)

Lineker's initial suggestion is that players donate part of their salaries to less high-earning workers at their clubs. "It might be a good time for players, certainly, to help," he tells me. "It could be a really good PR exercise for football and footballers if they perhaps help the staff that are going to be really suffering during this."

Will he also accept cutting his taxpayer-funded BBC salary, worth £1.75m last year? Lineker says he is "considering" how best to contribute. "It's a no-win for me," he says. "Either I come out with something and say it and then everyone goes, 'He's just trying to do it to sound good,' or if I don't do it, then I'll get lambasted." Two days later, Lineker reveals he will donate two months' wages to the Red Cross, saying "lots of other people who are in a position of relative wealth can do something similar. I am sure many will."

Lineker's career highs

With the Fifa Fair Play award at the 1990 World Cup. Lineker never received a yellow card - let alone a red - for foul play, cementing his reputation as a unifying sporting hero. Photo / Getty

• 1979 Makes debut for hometown club Leicester City in the second division

• 1984 Makes England debut against Scotland

• 1985 After finishing as the first division's joint top scorer with 24 goals, joins reigning champions Everton for £800,000

• 1986 Finishes again as the first division's top goal scorer, and top scorer at the World Cup in Mexico. Signs for Barcelona for £2.8m

• 1989 Returns to England with Tottenham Hotspur, finishing as the first division's top scorer in his first season back

• 1990 Scores four goals at the World Cup in Italy as England reach the semi-final

• 1991 Wins first trophy in England as Spurs lift the FA Cup

• 1992 Retires from international football with 48 goals from 80 appearances, one fewer than the record held at the time by Sir Bobby Charlton

• 1994 Retires from playing with a total of 330 goals in 567 games