On a drinking binge for days, Rob Smethurst had finally collapsed. He relives that dark night in detail on BBC’s Life Less Ordinary podcast. He had sat lifeless, leaning against the wardrobe, tears flowing and the hazy images of three beautiful boys floating in front of him. He closed his eyes with a depressing thought — What have I done?
A self-confessed “functional alcoholic” in his 40s, he had been living on the edge for a while. Doing what he pleased was his character, being unreasonable a habit. He would hit the bottle early, spend hours at the bar. In that state, he bought a dead and buried football club for half a million pounds. That atrocious business call, taken in an inebriated state, would one day save his life.
Early this year, five years after the intoxicated whim-purchase, Smethurst’s Macclesfield FC knocked out Crystal Palace, a Premier League team, from the FA Cup, the oldest national tournament in the world. After climbing from the ninth to the sixth tier on the English football pyramid in record time, Macclesfield toppled an elite London club – even David’s sling-shot had a better chance of hitting giant Goliath than Macclesfield of bringing down a team ranked 117 places above them.
A team of part-timers — plumbers, bricklayers and even a candle-maker — defeated a side with England internationals. On that day, amateurs making 250 pounds a week were better than stars who earned the same in seconds. This wouldn’t have happened had Smethurst not survived the night he thought was his last.
In the BBC podcast, the Macclesfield FC owner talks about his past. Born with ADHD, school was hell for him. Teachers, back in the day, weren’t sensitive to slow learners. Red marks on test sheets and snide remarks on the report card were discouraging. He was classified as “thick.” At 16, he left school but the experience prepared him for one thing: facing failure.
Smethurst’s Macclesfield FC’s fans and players celebrate on the pitch after defeating Crystal Palace in the 3rd round of the FA Cup. (PHOTO: Reuters)
He sold cars, like his father. That didn’t work. He started a garage that lost money. He ventured into stocks and shares. Another misadventure. He moved back to selling cars but this time, on the side, he started building an app that tracked movement of cars around the country.
But it was tough. There was this one time he left his car at a petrol station and walked home. He had a couple of pounds in the bank, not enough to fill the tank. When home, he would hide under a duvet and drink. The kids were taken out of school. Parents and in-laws helped the family survive.
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Suddenly, his life turned one day. The app worked. It would become the largest platform in the car-moving category. Tens of millions landed in his bank account. But constant travelling had deepened the drinking. He had money now, but nothing to do, no purpose. It was during those days that he saw an ad in the paper about the sale of Macclesfield FC. Mortals send stupid texts when drunk. Greats buy clubs.
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Having found purpose, Smethurst called his friend Robbie Savage — a fierce Welsh footballer and reputed Premier League midfielder. After mocking his pal’s decision, Savage agreed to coach. Together they built the team brick by brick, player by player. The owner made the football club the town’s hub — gyms, parks, a place to be. On Christmas there were meals for those who couldn’t afford them.
Five thousand walked onto the turf for the first game under Smethurst. He got a standing ovation. That year they won the league. In four years, they were promoted three times.
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Then Savage put in his papers and switched clubs, taking three top players with him. Smethurst says they are still friends but don’t talk that often. The Smethurst story is never smooth.
Macclesfield FC fan holds a tin foil replica FA Cup before the match against Crystal Palace. (PHOTO: Reuters)
Days before the club’s biggest ever match — an FA Cup tie against Crystal Palace — the team’s 21-year-old forward Ethan McLeod died in a car crash. His Mercedes collided with a barrier as he was returning from a game.
The team was shattered. Smethurst says they would sit in silence for hours. Then someone would sob uncontrollably or let out piercing screams. No one was in the mood to play. They lost games. But when Crystal Palace came around — the biggest day in the club’s history — they decided to play for Ethan.
They ran as if possessed. They scored without getting overawed by the occasion. In the final minutes they defended as if Ethan was on the sidelines egging them on to save the lead. The owner, who had seen so much in life, didn’t cry that day. He was too proud, he says. After the game, he and his family left much before the party peaked. They had a Chinese meal. They all went to sleep with a smile.
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Five years earlier he had been on the floor of an empty house, leaning against a wardrobe, alone. Now his boys were with him.
