Athlete Stories - Claire Rafferty

I’d rather they defined me in the sense that I showed resilience and real grit to keep coming back to the sport I chose

I’d always say that because of the injuries I have had, people always ask me about what could’ve been which really irritates me. “Do you wish you were playing now?” “Do you wish you weren’t injured as much?” And I actually don’t think like that at all. Firstly, I don’t think you can think like that, otherwise you’ll end up losing your head and it can be quite a dark path to stumble down.

The opportunities that arose from being injured, what I was able to learn about myself and what I want to do and I could do – were the best moments and I actually think the injuries were the best thing to happen to me in a personal sense and in a professional one. They allowed me to go to work, to know what I want. It was a chance to step away from football.

I was allowed to go full-time at work, which allowed me to develop skills that I wouldn’t have now. And I would like to help some of the players coming through now. It’s easy to get caught in a bit of a bubble, and maybe don’t get exposed to a great deal of other experiences, despite not being paid a great deal of money. Football isn’t forever, and once it is over, they’re going to have to go and do something else.

There’s only a handful of players at a small selection of clubs that can really oppose that. These women are going to leave the sport with very little to no experience or relevant skill-set to go on and do what needs to come next. But actually, they probably do have those skill sets, but they just haven’t been in an environment where they’ve been able to discover it for themselves yet.

In the professional environment I think everything can be spoon-fed to you, and we never had that. We were playing for real desire. And I’m not taking that away from anyone that’s playing at the moment and being rewarded for doing so, but I had to go to the gym every single day by myself, paying for my gym membership, doing a lot of it alone – and I think that part of the reason that the likes of Jill, Ellen, Steph, are still going, and going well, is because they had that grounding.

I played because I wanted to and it just happened to develop into the game it is today and I consequently grew up in line with that.

Whereas now, you can play and work in an environment where you’re in every day, your schedule is done for you, you’re told where to be, what to do, how to do it. When you’ve grown up in an environment where football wasn’t professional, it almost got to a point in my professional career when I was being dictated to and told that I have to do it. I never chose to play football as a professional sport, I played because I wanted to and it just happened to develop into the game it is today and I consequently grew up in line with that.

I will always fight for equality and it is undeniable that there are outstanding elements of alignment for some clubs at the top level. They are aligned in terms of infrastructure, facility, resource, housing, and food etc, but players are still paid very little money in comparison – and I think that’s the difference. Players are unable to set themselves up financially but are constantly indulging in an environment that creates an aura that they’ve made it. That is the difference.

I think one of the main reasons I got to a point where I thought, I can’t/don’t want to do this anymore was because of the generation gap. There were an increasing amount of players coming through that knew no different, they live the lifestyle and although they have earned that right – like I said, there’s maybe a 10, 11, 12 year shelf life if you’re lucky. I just think we’re not there yet.

We still need to be professional at the top end, but we need more contact hours through development, more quality coaching, more nurturing, otherwise the product is never going to be as good.

If people get too carried away then I don’t see the sustainability in it. I personally think that biggest thing needs to be investment and exposure at the youth level. We still need to be professional at the top end, but we need more contact hours through development, more quality coaching, more nurturing, otherwise the product is never going to be as good.

You can’t fault clubs like Chelsea in terms of their staffing and infrastructure – their backroom staff in terms of size and quality is fantastic, and much more aligned to that on the men’s side, and in fairness, that was something that West Ham were/are clearly building towards. They are the early investors in a landscape that will look very different in 10, 20, 30 years time.

I was fortunate in a sense to have a taste of the professional environment, before it was a professional environment. I was selected by Hope Powell and the England youth development coaches to attend the ‘Player Development Centre’ at Loughborough Uni. They selected a group of talented young girls to go and live, train and play – virtually full-time training alongside undergrad studies. Me, Karen Carney, Steph Houghton, Ellen White, Toni Duggan, Jill Scott and a host of others lived on campus, being coached with an eye on what Women’s Football could become. We had a strict weekly programme that included regular Strength & Conditioning Support for the first time, and a huge rise in coaching contact. We were the first generation within the game to have that.

Throughout the 4 years I was at Loughborough I would travel back at weekends to play for Chelsea and make it back Monday mornings in time for lectures and recovery sessions. The international calendar combined with being at uni and playing for Chelsea meant that I had to learn very early on how to balance my time.

After graduating from university with a degree in Economics I was able to fully commit to Chelsea and fortunately that coincided with the start of the WSL and the beginning of a new era for Women’s football.

ego plays a massive role, good and bad, and the new ruthlessness of women’s football increasingly dictated by money leading to an ever increasing pressurised environment focused on winning medals at all cost

I spent 11 incredible seasons at Chelsea, but out of all of them, I think I learnt most in my last. I spent an increasing amount of time sitting on the bench, sitting in the stands nursing an injury or just not making the squad at all, which at the time was very difficult to accept. However, upon reflection I now appreciate the lessons I learnt about myself. How ego plays a massive role, good and bad, and about the new ruthlessness of women’s football increasingly dictated by money leading to an ever increasing pressurised environment focused on winning medals at all cost. And that brutal realisation that loyalty, like in men’s football, rarely gets you anywhere.

When I look back now I actually think what had cost me for big parts of my career was almost an over-competitive attitude. I always wanted to beat everyone else. And having suffered my first ACL rupture at 16, I admittedly could’ve (and perhaps should’ve) managed myself a little better. For a player that had always relied on short bursts of pace, and my fitness and stamina, I revelled in the running. But, as things developed, and the set-backs mounted rather than accepting there were certain elements of my physical training that were going to have to be managed, potentially modified along the way, I had an internal refusal to let that hinder me. So, as soon as I was back on the training pitch, in a competitive scenario, I would give it 100% and chronically, that probably contributed to numerous break-downs. Even when I would go away with the National Team on camp, I would go all-out on day 1, trying to beat everyone else on the bleep test, and pouring my everything into other tests, just to then have to sit out a couple days training due to flare-ups – and that ultimately cost me caps and cost me selections in the long run.

But it takes a long time to know that, and at 29/30 in my final year at West Ham, I felt I did. I joined West Ham knowing that I probably only had one more year left in me. I love Beardy (Matt Beard), and we had so many open, honest and heartfelt conversations from the get go. He promised me when I joined West Ham, that he was employing the fitness and medical staff that could help me get out on the pitch more, and he wasn’t wrong. I was no longer trying to compete with the young ones in the gym or on the pitch (although I still emptied the tank on a few fitness tests to remind everyone I could still mix it), and there were S&C staff that understood that. I wasn’t following the same programme as others because progress and development was no longer the goal. Instead, I was just working on managing my body a lot more, with a heightened prevalence of bodyweight exercises focusing on moving through range with control. Whilst on the pitch, I was in for tactical work to make sure I understood the game plan etc, and other than still ticking boxes from a sprint speed and high-speed running exposure perspective, I was getting most of my “fitness” work off-feet on the bike. Even from the first few months, I was having conversations with Beardy, and he was open to giving me another year’s extension – and although we went back-and-forth over the course of the season, I think from the start we both knew it was my last. I admire the way he handled it and the way he treated me in my final year and I am certainly grateful to him and the staff at West Ham, for giving me the opportunity to empty the tank and give a little more.

And so came the end, albeit a little unforeseen. I remember the week before our FA Cup Final trip to Wembley, we travelled to Bristol City in the League. In the first half, I characteristically lunged into a challenge that 6 years prior, pace alone would’ve got me to, and in front of our dug-out felt an all-too-familiar pain in my knee. Bizarrely though, the pain subsided almost immediately, and I carried on through the rest of the game. Despite some mild stiffness and inflammation in the coming days though, I felt okay, and I think both sub-consciously and consciously, I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from a Wembley swan-song.

I circled the pitch at the full-time whistle, knowing that these were some of my final moments as a footballer. By this stage I’d already accepted my current role at Chelsea, and I tried to soak in every second, with a deep feeling of content.

That though, wasn’t going to be the biggest stumbling block. In the lead up to the final, I, along with a couple of other players and staff, fell incredibly ill. I travelled to our Wembley hotel alone, to avoid the rest of the squad, and could hardly stomach an evening meal. In the morning, I managed a small breakfast, and after another frank and honest conversation with Beardy, I retained my place in the starting 11 – knowing that nothing was going to stop me from playing. My experience alone got me through 60mins or so, in a game that we were arguably the better side in for the first half. But the tank soon emptied, and I made way, took my seat in the dugout, and watched on as Manchester City finished the game strong and deservedly got their hands on the trophy. I circled the pitch at the full-time whistle, knowing that these were some of my final moments as a footballer. By this stage I’d already accepted my current role at Chelsea, and I tried to soak in every second, with a deep feeling of content.

The following week, and West Ham were back to action, for the final league game of the season at home to Brighton. I however, was ruled out by mid-week, as it became evident that the damage done the week prior at Bristol, was maybe more severe than first thought, and amongst the aggregation of niggles from the cup final, and coming off the back of a heavy illness, Beardy and I decided it best I sat it out.

So, no real send-off. But I was okay with that, I’d had a testimonial at Chelsea, I’d had a trip to Wembley, with a team that everyone had written off, and that really felt good. No one thought we (West Ham) could do it, we were mocked for our BBC documentary, and even written off as Semi-Finalists for our trip to Reading, but we (somehow) made it, and although we fell short in the final, on the big stage, I felt immense pride to have got their with that group of players and staff. I’ve never been one for the limelight, and so slipping off unassumingly, and spending my final game as a Professional Footballer, watching from the side-line, was fine with me.

I remember having a Coach at Youth Level within the national set up tell me that I’d never be good enough to play at Senior Level. And that really stuck with me. That’s a coach that should be nurturing talent but things like that contribute to a players mindset, long after they graduate from the age-group. I am not just content, but proud of what I achieved in football and when I was fit, right up until the end at West Ham, I felt that I was still the best English left back.

Injury wise, I had 3 ACL ruptures, achilles tendonopathy, 2 epidural’s for bulging disks, several hamstring tears, one nearly tore off the bone, and I think it would be very easy to have that define me. But like I said, I’m grateful to the injuries that I had, they allowed me to achieve so much in and out of the sport, and I think rather than being defined as an England International that was robbed of her career by injury, I look at it through the lens that those injuries actually gave me a career after football. I’d rather they defined me in the sense that I showed resilience and real grit to keep coming back to the sport I chose. I was still able to achieve so much, in spite of my set-backs, and although it would be easy to sit and wonder what could’ve been, I’d rather look back at what my time as a footballer gave me – as well as 2  League and FA Cup Winners Medals, a World Cup Bronze, and to be able to forever call myself an Olympian, it gave me the character, the experience, and the skills to do something more.