The stark reality of life as an unemployed professional football player

Move house ✅. Become a first-time father ✅. Find a new club ❌...

Liam Grimshaw has spent much of his career in Scotland, turning out for Motherwell, Morton and Dundee United. He helped the Tannadice club to the Championship title last season, making 33 league appearances. Despite that contribution, he was let go at the end of the transfer window and has now returned to his native Lancashire. Here, he writes for Nutmeg about life – hopefully temporarily – without football.

By Liam Grimshaw

I pen this piece from the warmth and comfort of an East Lancastrian terraced row, the exact type of abode in which our mill-working forebears would have lived in bygone days. As I tap away, the fragrant notes of unused nappy bags fill the November air, while the soundtrack of Gladys Knight and The Isley Brothers is regularly interrupted by the high-pitched cries of our days-old baby girl. With mother on maternity leave and dad without work, our days are spent cherishing every minute with our new arrival. Magic…

Before venturing on, I’d like to make it clear that this is no cry for help or venture for sympathy, but solely the stark reality of life as an unemployed professional footballer.

Playing an integral part in last season’s Scottish Championship-conquering side wasn’t enough to save me from the dreaded hangman’s noose this summer and so on the last day of the transfer window, I said goodbye to Tannadice and headed south across the brooding Tay. Rejection is one of football’s many occupational hazards, it waits down carpeted hallways like the grimmest of reapers and no one is safe from its deathly sickle. From players and managers to chief execs, each pawn in this ficklest of sports is both disposable and interchangeable. It’s something you become accustomed to over the course of a career, but it never becomes any easier. My latest September shunning epitomised this more than any other.

Grimshaw (left) with Sadat Anaku and Mathew Cudjoe after clinching the Championship trophy in May. But even that glorious day doesn't compare with the joy of fatherhood and baby Luna

With Courtney heavily pregnant and myself unemployed, the uncertainty hung heavy. We had spent almost a third of our lives in Scotland, creating memories along the way that would last forever. We had also met brilliant friends and Courtney had set up a successful business. On the flip side, we had endured some of our toughest days north of the border, with family members passing away and Courtney suffering two miscarriages. Although proud Lancastrians, Scotland had become our life. Now that hung in the balance.

Where are we going to live? More importantly, where are you going to give birth? Should we move home to be around family or should we stay up here, with greater prospects for our careers?

I had received a couple of offers but for differing reasons things didn’t quite suit. Courtney, for her part, was in the process of reorganising her business for it to survive her maternity, while also carrying with her the stresses and strains of pre-motherhood. Add to this her constant support to myself during arguably the most difficult time in my professional career and you will get a small idea of the battles she was facing. Her steadfastness in the face of adversity has always been incredibly inspiring and comforting for me. The partners of footballers have often been portrayed as a bit of a joke by certain sections of the media, but not only is the (WAG) stereotype quite belittling it also couldn’t be further from the truth. When their partners are out of form, getting splinters in their arses sat on the bench or cast aside by the over-inflated egos that frequent the ‘beautiful’ game, they are the ones who pick up the pieces.

From a personal point of view, my mind was awash with the pros, cons and various permutations that the next step would inevitably bring. On one hand, I was dealing with the loss of my job, constantly checking my phone for a message from my agent or calls from an unknown number that could belong to a manager. On the other, the logistics of moving house, caring for my pregnant wife and becoming a first-time father.

Having played the game professionally for almost 15 full seasons, the selfish part of me would have dived straight back in at the first opportunity. However, as many parents will know, once there’s a baby on the way life becomes about much more than you. Turning down contracts was far from easy, but in the end a decision had to be made. Packing up our life, we left the place we had called “home” and actually returned home.

As I write this, uncertainty still shrouds my footballing career, but uncertainty is life in a nutshell. Tomorrow is never promised, so I’ll enjoy what’s in front of me right now. Luna, Courtney and our closest family. The rest will take care of itself.