Bury, Brighton, Bramall Lane, Champions League
He was the Coca-Cola Kid, now he plays for Zico in Istanbul. Anna Kessel meets Colin Kazim-Richards
Sunday February 17, 2008
The Observer
On a snow-covered training pitch on the outskirts of Istanbul, Roberto Carlos is practising his signature free-kick. Despite the freezing temperature, the Brazilian wears shorts, his enormous calves bulging out over the top of his socks. Alongside him Alex, Japan's Brazil-born star, and Mateja Kezman ping balls at the fence. Overseeing the star-studded pitch is one of the greatest ever footballers, now the manager of Fenerbahce, the majestic Zico. His side are preparing for their Champions League game against Sevilla on Wednesday.
But for a goal by a boy from east London in a 2-0 victory over PSV Eindhoven in the group stages, Fenerbahce would probably not have made it into the last 16. Eight months ago you would not have bet on Colin Kazim-Richards playing Champions League football in the company of Brazilian greats. With Sheffield United relegated, the then 20-year-old striker was facing an uncertain future. Twice plucked from obscurity and thrust into the limelight, it surely could not happen a third time.
Born in Leyton in 1986, Kazim-Richards first found fame three years ago when a Brighton fan entered a competition run by the Football League's sponsors and won Albion £250,000 in transfer funds. Most of that money was spent on signing the 18-year-old from Bury, so he was dubbed the Coca-Cola Kid. He missed only a handful of games, but Brighton were relegated in 2006 and Kazim-Richards put in a transfer request. Mark McGhee, the then manager, exiled him even from the reserves as the new season started, but on the last day of the summer transfer window Neil Warnock took the young striker from League One to the Premiership, signing him for his newly promoted Sheffield United side.
Now he is in Istanbul, playing alongside international stars. But Kazim-Richards always believed it would happen. Even at Sheffield United last season, when the team were battling relegation, he said he would play in the Champions League one day. 'I said that on Sky Sports,' Kazim-Richards says, 'and afterwards I had someone in my own team try to banter me: "Champions League, you're having a laugh." I always believed in myself, though. You get idiot people - I don't call them haters, I call them motivators.
'I'm training with the best left-back in the world ever, the guy is unbelievable. I'm playing with Kezman, who has scored over 250 goals, Stephen Appiah, Alex - they call him the magician - and my manager is one of the best players who ever lived.'
'Do I pinch myself? Sometimes. I'm a boy from east London, my family didn't have a lot. Now I'm round Carlos's house, playing Pro Evo with Kezman.'
Fenerbahce's foreign players live in an exclusive gated development in villas worth millions of pounds. Kazim-Richards' is on five floors - with a lift and a three-metre-diameter satellite dish - as well as the obligatory pool and ping-pong tables, and home cinema.
Despite the bling; the transition to a new life and playing in the Turkish league has not been an easy ride. Kazim-Richards' mother is Turkish Cypriot, a connection that enabled him to make his debut for Turkey last June. But growing up in a Turkish family in London is very different to life on the Bosporus.
As the loudspeakers at the mosque next to the training ground boom out a call for prayers, Kazim-Richards rolls his eyes. 'It is weird. Every day, five times a day, that music comes on. And it's loud. All the mosques have big sound systems. Coming here has been a massive change for me. Obviously you know about the religion when you're in England - the praying, the fasting - but to see it, like when 10 of your team are all doing it and going to mosque on Friday, it's crazy.
'I don't feel religious. It's difficult because half my family is Muslim, and the other half is Christian. I've always felt Turkish, though. My nine [grandmother], she can't speak English. Half of my family, their first language is Turkish, and so I went to Turkish school before I played football, although I can't remember any of it now.'
Driving home from training, Kazim-Richards strings together a smattering of Turkish to instruct his chauffeur, while picking at a local dessert. Inside the car it is warm. Outside, roofs and dustbins are covered in melting snow and children roam the freezing streets. 'You see how Turkey is? Tiny kids out working, and they keep the dogs outside.'
Back at the house, Kazim-Richards' own dog - a six-month-old puppy called Shadow - is allowed into the warmth. Despite the luxury of the place, small details make it a home from home: the cupboards are stuffed with chocolate fingers and Jaffa Cakes.
Kazim-Richards' family background is unusual, with Antiguan grandparents on his father's side. 'There's not many like me.' The mixture in his name was too much for the registrar of births - the hyphen was put in the wrong place, landing him with a surname that differs from that of the rest of his family and is possibly unique.
On taking up Turkish citizenship, there were further changes. 'Here they call me Kazim Kazim. For political reasons I had to change the name on my passport, you're not allowed to have a Christian name in a Muslim country. When people are bantering they call me Kazim Kazim, or sometimes Pepsi.' He pauses to grin at the joke, although the Coca-Cola Kid stuff clearly irks him.
Turkish fan culture has been a surprise. 'The fans are crazy. We've got 30 million fans in Turkey alone. It's a buzz, but I love it and hate it. Sometimes you're going out to have a nice meal and you get hounded.
'Zico gets it the worst. One time we were in an airport and there were loads of Japanese people, I've never seen nothing like it in my life. I thought Turkish people were bad, but these Japanese women were fainting - old women, I swear. "Oh Zico!"'
The manager is a big admirer of Kazim-Richards. 'He is a bet for the future,' Zico says, 'but he is still adapting to the Turkish style and he tends to perform better against European sides. I like the way he is with the ball, and his speed.' But Zico did not choose to bring Kazim-Richards to Fenerbahce; as with most decisions in Turkish football it was down to the club president, in this case Aziz Yildirim, whose previous signings include Nicolas Anelka.
Kazim-Richards' decision to play for Turkey raised eyebrows back home. 'In England people don't see me as Turkish. Like when police stop me, it's not because I'm Turkish, it's because I'm black. But I have never got Turkish racial abuse, it's only when I've been to other countries.
'I played in Albania for the under-21s and, oh my God, the whole stadium was doing monkey noises when I went to take a corner. Against Liechtenstein an opponent called me a ****** the whole game. I threw the ball at him in the end, and I got sent off. I shouldn't have done that, but you can't just accept these things.'
Kazim-Richards has always been opinionated and it has often led him into trouble. 'If I've got an opinion I'll say it. That's why they put the "arrogant" tag on me. Mark McGhee could never take the fact that I had an opinion aged 18. Where I grew up you had to have an opinion or you'd get trampled on. McGhee labelled me a problem child, but I never was. I just wasn't a follower. He tried to bully me into things. But no matter how much he tried to break me, it didn't work. When I handed in my transfer request he dropped me, I wasn't even allowed to play for the reserves. There were clubs coming in for me and I wasn't even in the squad. The day before the last day of the transfer window I played in a reserve game against Crystal Palace. I scored one and set one up and Sheffield United signed me.'
Just the kind of luck that you come to expect with Kazim-Richards. At Bramall Lane, Warnock called him 'unorthodox' and when you watch him tearing around you can see why.
Kazim-Richards says he misses home and English football. At times you wonder how comfortable he really is with life in Istanbul. But with a quarter-final spot in the Champions League up for grabs and a call-up for Euro 2008 likely, the boy from Leyton is having the last laugh. 'Not even the doubters can say any different.'
He was the Coca-Cola Kid, now he plays for Zico in Istanbul. Anna Kessel meets Colin Kazim-Richards
Sunday February 17, 2008
The Observer
On a snow-covered training pitch on the outskirts of Istanbul, Roberto Carlos is practising his signature free-kick. Despite the freezing temperature, the Brazilian wears shorts, his enormous calves bulging out over the top of his socks. Alongside him Alex, Japan's Brazil-born star, and Mateja Kezman ping balls at the fence. Overseeing the star-studded pitch is one of the greatest ever footballers, now the manager of Fenerbahce, the majestic Zico. His side are preparing for their Champions League game against Sevilla on Wednesday.
But for a goal by a boy from east London in a 2-0 victory over PSV Eindhoven in the group stages, Fenerbahce would probably not have made it into the last 16. Eight months ago you would not have bet on Colin Kazim-Richards playing Champions League football in the company of Brazilian greats. With Sheffield United relegated, the then 20-year-old striker was facing an uncertain future. Twice plucked from obscurity and thrust into the limelight, it surely could not happen a third time.
Born in Leyton in 1986, Kazim-Richards first found fame three years ago when a Brighton fan entered a competition run by the Football League's sponsors and won Albion £250,000 in transfer funds. Most of that money was spent on signing the 18-year-old from Bury, so he was dubbed the Coca-Cola Kid. He missed only a handful of games, but Brighton were relegated in 2006 and Kazim-Richards put in a transfer request. Mark McGhee, the then manager, exiled him even from the reserves as the new season started, but on the last day of the summer transfer window Neil Warnock took the young striker from League One to the Premiership, signing him for his newly promoted Sheffield United side.
Now he is in Istanbul, playing alongside international stars. But Kazim-Richards always believed it would happen. Even at Sheffield United last season, when the team were battling relegation, he said he would play in the Champions League one day. 'I said that on Sky Sports,' Kazim-Richards says, 'and afterwards I had someone in my own team try to banter me: "Champions League, you're having a laugh." I always believed in myself, though. You get idiot people - I don't call them haters, I call them motivators.
'I'm training with the best left-back in the world ever, the guy is unbelievable. I'm playing with Kezman, who has scored over 250 goals, Stephen Appiah, Alex - they call him the magician - and my manager is one of the best players who ever lived.'
'Do I pinch myself? Sometimes. I'm a boy from east London, my family didn't have a lot. Now I'm round Carlos's house, playing Pro Evo with Kezman.'
Fenerbahce's foreign players live in an exclusive gated development in villas worth millions of pounds. Kazim-Richards' is on five floors - with a lift and a three-metre-diameter satellite dish - as well as the obligatory pool and ping-pong tables, and home cinema.
Despite the bling; the transition to a new life and playing in the Turkish league has not been an easy ride. Kazim-Richards' mother is Turkish Cypriot, a connection that enabled him to make his debut for Turkey last June. But growing up in a Turkish family in London is very different to life on the Bosporus.
As the loudspeakers at the mosque next to the training ground boom out a call for prayers, Kazim-Richards rolls his eyes. 'It is weird. Every day, five times a day, that music comes on. And it's loud. All the mosques have big sound systems. Coming here has been a massive change for me. Obviously you know about the religion when you're in England - the praying, the fasting - but to see it, like when 10 of your team are all doing it and going to mosque on Friday, it's crazy.
'I don't feel religious. It's difficult because half my family is Muslim, and the other half is Christian. I've always felt Turkish, though. My nine [grandmother], she can't speak English. Half of my family, their first language is Turkish, and so I went to Turkish school before I played football, although I can't remember any of it now.'
Driving home from training, Kazim-Richards strings together a smattering of Turkish to instruct his chauffeur, while picking at a local dessert. Inside the car it is warm. Outside, roofs and dustbins are covered in melting snow and children roam the freezing streets. 'You see how Turkey is? Tiny kids out working, and they keep the dogs outside.'
Back at the house, Kazim-Richards' own dog - a six-month-old puppy called Shadow - is allowed into the warmth. Despite the luxury of the place, small details make it a home from home: the cupboards are stuffed with chocolate fingers and Jaffa Cakes.
Kazim-Richards' family background is unusual, with Antiguan grandparents on his father's side. 'There's not many like me.' The mixture in his name was too much for the registrar of births - the hyphen was put in the wrong place, landing him with a surname that differs from that of the rest of his family and is possibly unique.
On taking up Turkish citizenship, there were further changes. 'Here they call me Kazim Kazim. For political reasons I had to change the name on my passport, you're not allowed to have a Christian name in a Muslim country. When people are bantering they call me Kazim Kazim, or sometimes Pepsi.' He pauses to grin at the joke, although the Coca-Cola Kid stuff clearly irks him.
Turkish fan culture has been a surprise. 'The fans are crazy. We've got 30 million fans in Turkey alone. It's a buzz, but I love it and hate it. Sometimes you're going out to have a nice meal and you get hounded.
'Zico gets it the worst. One time we were in an airport and there were loads of Japanese people, I've never seen nothing like it in my life. I thought Turkish people were bad, but these Japanese women were fainting - old women, I swear. "Oh Zico!"'
The manager is a big admirer of Kazim-Richards. 'He is a bet for the future,' Zico says, 'but he is still adapting to the Turkish style and he tends to perform better against European sides. I like the way he is with the ball, and his speed.' But Zico did not choose to bring Kazim-Richards to Fenerbahce; as with most decisions in Turkish football it was down to the club president, in this case Aziz Yildirim, whose previous signings include Nicolas Anelka.
Kazim-Richards' decision to play for Turkey raised eyebrows back home. 'In England people don't see me as Turkish. Like when police stop me, it's not because I'm Turkish, it's because I'm black. But I have never got Turkish racial abuse, it's only when I've been to other countries.
'I played in Albania for the under-21s and, oh my God, the whole stadium was doing monkey noises when I went to take a corner. Against Liechtenstein an opponent called me a ****** the whole game. I threw the ball at him in the end, and I got sent off. I shouldn't have done that, but you can't just accept these things.'
Kazim-Richards has always been opinionated and it has often led him into trouble. 'If I've got an opinion I'll say it. That's why they put the "arrogant" tag on me. Mark McGhee could never take the fact that I had an opinion aged 18. Where I grew up you had to have an opinion or you'd get trampled on. McGhee labelled me a problem child, but I never was. I just wasn't a follower. He tried to bully me into things. But no matter how much he tried to break me, it didn't work. When I handed in my transfer request he dropped me, I wasn't even allowed to play for the reserves. There were clubs coming in for me and I wasn't even in the squad. The day before the last day of the transfer window I played in a reserve game against Crystal Palace. I scored one and set one up and Sheffield United signed me.'
Just the kind of luck that you come to expect with Kazim-Richards. At Bramall Lane, Warnock called him 'unorthodox' and when you watch him tearing around you can see why.
Kazim-Richards says he misses home and English football. At times you wonder how comfortable he really is with life in Istanbul. But with a quarter-final spot in the Champions League up for grabs and a call-up for Euro 2008 likely, the boy from Leyton is having the last laugh. 'Not even the doubters can say any different.'
