WHEN I look at Sven-Goran Eriksson now, I see a much diminished man. A man reduced by terminal illness, but also a man who, by his own admission, has had a good life.
As The Sun told yesterday, he talks about his private life on his Amazon Prime film Sven, including his affair with me.
We first met in 2002, when I asked him for his autograph at a party held by Alastair Campbell, Tony Blair’s spin doctor.
He replied to me in our native language, Swedish, asking for my telephone number so he could call me.
I was single at the time and 34. He was 54 and confided that he wanted to end his relationship with Nancy Dell’Olio because it was sapping him of energy.
He then proceeded to call me every day when he went on holiday with Nancy, telling me I was beautiful and how much he wanted to see me.
When he returned, the day after his 54th birthday, he visited me and we slept together.
This was no great passionate affair. It was devoid of passion. He had all this power and money, yet he was the weakest man I have ever met.
During our dalliance he was heading to his place in Portugal for the night between England games and asked me to join him.
He said I should book myself on his flight and he would reimburse me. I said no way, I pay my own way — I’ve never taken money from a man.
It was a point of principle.
We met in the Club Lounge at Heathrow, pretending we had just met, and sat next to each other on the flight, almost giggling all the way.
Then we spent the night at his place, where his housekeepers cooked us a meal.
The following morning we left for the airport together and, in the car, he put a blank cheque from Coutts in my pocket when I wasn’t looking.
I keep it for posterity. But it might have been nice to fill it out at some point for all the hassle he brought me!
When news of our affair broke, he didn’t confirm what went on between us. This meant I was left high and dry, even to the point that people believed I had made it up to get Press attention.
That really angered me.
I was an independent, working woman who did not voluntarily need to create a drama around my life for attention.
He says in his documentary that he didn’t commit a crime, and he’s right about that.
But he did do wrong.
And he simply didn’t really care about much of life.
As far as I could tell, he cared only about three things: His two children, who he adored. And football.
Even when we were in Portugal, I asked him about his ex, the mother of his children.
He said he had moved the wedding day in fav- our of a football match and she wasn’t happy.
And I wondered if he was romantic and asked him how he proposed.
I was surprised when he confided that she had proposed to him, which confirmed to me that I don’t think he had a romantic bone in his body. I know people didn’t understand why we were seeing each other, as it was an odd connection.
Initially it was the Swedish thing that united us — and football.
We talked about football a lot. But he was chivalrous and, in his heart, he was a kind man.
He brought a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Champagne — without fail — every time he came to my house.
For me, he showed me kindness and I’d just been going through the most horrendous time with being abandoned by my sick daughter’s biological father and worrying if she was going to get through her operations.
When someone shows you kindness, it grabs your attention. In the film, he says he does have feelings, but he doesn’t show them. I think that’s honest and true. We never exchanged words of affection — it wasn’t that kind of set-up.
I just saw him when he could get away from Nancy or was on the way to football games.
Nancy admits in the film that she only stuck with him because she could get something out of it, which strongly suggests that she only really was with him because of the fame and the glory.
She should be grateful for me raising her profile. She seemingly made a career out of “refusing to accept that she had been cheated on”.
Before news of the affair between me and Sven broke, she was just the Italian girlfriend of the England manager. When it hit the headlines Nancy was suddenly famous. And she used that to her advantage. She’d have never been on Strictly Come Dancing if it wasn’t for me.
Sven told me she was very fiery — it was a volatile relationship and I felt it was clear that he didn’t really, truly care about her.
But he never promised me he would leave her, because I never asked him to.
I sensed he feared her. And he confirms that in the film.
He says he was afraid (of leaving her). He admitted to me that she “loved” the attention she was getting from the media, so it’s little wonder if she didn’t want to give that up.
And obviously, apart from women attacking each other, there is the problem that misogyny is still very
much alive and kicking in the world of football. Women continue to be viewed as pawns in a game of utmost importance, ruled over by men who show little but disdain for the opposite sex.
I’ve never in my life fought over a man. I know Nancy was clinging to Sven, but she really needn’t have worried.
She threw insults at me because she didn’t believe the brief affair was true. Surely her beef should have been with him?
In the film, Sven’s son says how his dad doesn’t stress about things, and that was my experience, too.
He never got concerned about things and said to me, “Why worry about something which might not happen?”.
He’s bright and studied philosophy, which is probably what brought a new and different approach to being England boss.
Many didn’t like that he wasn’t demonstrably expressive, but that was just the way he was.
Nancy says in the film that Sven is a narcissist, but I think that might be unfair. I just think he’s a very simple-minded person. And by that I mean he only puts energy into the things that are important to him. He’s pragmatic. Not a practical man, however.
He proudly showed me his hands and said “these have never done a day’s hard work”.
Sven is certainly a thinker, perhaps more than a doer.
I extracted myself from the situation when he clearly wasn’t going to ’fess up and carried on going out publicly with Nancy.
I certainly didn’t become a Princess Di character, where there were “three of us” in that relationship.
For a while he kept phoning me to speak to me or ask me to see him. He even got his agent to phone my agent to ask if I would wait for him after the World Cup. I declined.
Sven is right, of course, about his outlook on life now.
Life is short and I believe he has certainly made the most of it.
He has led a life according to his own wills and desires.
I’m sure he has regrets over some of his actions, but what good are regrets when the clock is ticking?
We can but do our best.
I bear him no ill will.
I hope he squeezes the best out of whatever life he has left and that, on reflection, he realises that to err is to be human.
He didn’t get it all right. But then, who does?