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Craig Bellamy’s autobiography, GoodFella, lays bare his emotions over the shocking death of Gary Speed, a team-mate with Newcastle and Wales and later his manager at international level.

In November 2011, just days after his Wales team had beaten Norway 4-1 in fine style, Speed's body was found at his Cheshire home. Bellamy, who scored in that victory over Norway, and his Liverpool side were playing later that day...

Gary Speed was a leader. He was probably the person I admired most and someone I tried to emulate.

Throughout my career, I looked up to him and I always took it as a great compliment he, in turn, looked out for me and valued me as a player.

Long before he died, at 42, he had become one of my best friends.

He was a mentor to me, someone whose advice I sought, someone I listened to.

I was a little in awe of him, too, and I certainly knew not to cross him.

I knew he rarely lost his temper, but if he did, it was best to make sure you were nowhere in his vicinity.

And I knew, above all, that he doted on his sons Ed and Tommy.

I was delighted when he took the Wales job in December 2010 and, by the summer of 2011, there was a real feeling he had started to turn things around.

We played Norway in a friendly in Cardiff at the beginning of the November.

Speedo was quiet. I had a coffee with him at the St David’s Hotel and I noticed he had a bit of a beard, which was unusual for him.

His quietness during that week disconcerted me a little bit, but I put it down to the fact he was becoming a manager.

I thought maybe it was just that he was putting a bit of distance between himself and the players.

Everything was evolving fast. We battered Norway 4-1 and I had a quick chat and a bit of a laugh with him after the game and then I headed off.

At the end of the month, Liverpool had a big game against Manchester City at Anfield.

When I got up that Sunday morning, I looked at my phone and had several missed calls.

Two were from Kieron Dyer and one was from my adviser.

When Kieron rang for the third or fourth time, I answered.

“Have you heard about Speedo?” he said. “Shay Given’s rung our agent to say Speedo’s committed suicide,”

“F*** off,” I said. “No chance.”

“I’ve heard he’s hung himself,” Kieron said.

“F****** no chance,” I said again. “You know what Twitter and the internet are like. It’s bulls**t.”

I got in my car to drive to Anfield.

That was the routine on the day of a home match: drive to the ground, hop on the coach to Melwood, do all the pre-match stuff there.

Then my adviser called me.

He was ringing with the same news.

I still didn’t believe it. Not with Speedo.

I rang Shay Given.

“It’s true, mate,” Shay said.

“I don’t believe it,” I said.

(Image: Getty)

I got on the coach at Anfield to go to Melwood.

I went to the back and rang a lady called Suzanne, who worked as a PA for me and Speedo.

I asked her if she had heard anything.

“No, nothing,” she said.

I asked her to find out.

I was starting to freak out.

I rang Speedo’s phone then. It started ringing.

‘He’s alive,’ I thought. ‘He’s alive. Thank f*** for that.’

Stupid, wasn’t it? A dead man’s phone can ring, too.

Suzanne rang back. She was hysterical. She told me it was true.

I couldn’t comprehend it.

Speedo was my idol in football. He was everything I tried to become.

The tears started to fall.

I got off the coach at Melwood and was told Kenny Dalglish wanted to see me in his office.

“Look, mate,” Kenny said, “I don’t know what to say or how to say it but I have been told Speedo committed suicide. He hung himself this morning.”

I started crying.

You don’t get prepared for that.

My mind was racing.

'How the f*** has he done that? Why has he done it? Everything was going so well. Something’s happened. What’s happened?'

“Go home,” Kenny said. “Go back to Cardiff. See your kids. You’re not playing today.”

“I want to play,” I said. “I want to play through it.”

“You can’t play today,” he told me. “You’re not in a fit state of mind. I’m taking the decision, not you. Come back when you’re ready.”

I didn’t want time off. I knew we had Chelsea at Stamford Bridge on the Tuesday in a Carling Cup quarter-final. I needed football to get me through it.

“If I go home now,” I said to Kenny, “I will be even worse. I need to train tomorrow.”

I was still crying as I said it.

Kenny has seen too much grief. He knew how to deal with mine.

“Go home, Bellers,” he said.

I didn’t sleep that night.

I was thinking about his kids. He adored them and I couldn’t believe he had left them.

And you know what, I was angry with him, too.

I adored him and looked up to him and had the highest respect for him. And now he was dead and I felt angry with him for leaving like this.

It started to scare me a bit as well.

If he is capable of that, what chance have the rest of us got?

Some time later, at the inquest, his widow Louise described him as ‘a glass half-empty man’ and she was right about that.

He got down easily. He was very cheerful, but he could get uncontrollably down.

There was a side of him which could go.

If you took liberties, or he was worried about something, you could see it in him. You could see him ready to explode.

A lot of players were like that.

I was determined to play against Chelsea. I had to play. I needed to play to help with my grief, to do something to try to escape what had happened.

There was a minute’s applause for Speedo before the game.

I stood in the line with the rest of the Liverpool players. I felt okay.

The Liverpool fans started singing his name.

It was real to me then and I started crying.

I’m a man’s man. I’m not supposed to cry.

I didn’t like Chelsea fans. I didn’t want to cry in front of them. But I couldn’t help it.

The Chelsea supporters didn’t sing his name, but I don’t expect that.

They’re not my cup of tea. They’re not the type of fans I’d want to play for.

‘I’m going to play f****** well tonight,’ I thought.

And Chelsea couldn’t get near me. It was one of the best games I have ever played. We won 2-0 and I set up both goals.

The game was easy after the two days I had just had. It was a performance worthy of Speedo’s memory.

Kenny brought me off 10 minutes from the end and gave me the biggest hug when I got to the touchline, which is typical of him.

Then I sat down on the bench, put a coat over my head and cried.

Click here for Mancini told me to go home... for rest of the season

Click here for why Robinho was a disgrace at Manchester City

Click here for our first day's extracts from Bellamy's book - THAT golf-club bust-up with John Arne Riise, being threatened by Alan Shearer and the two sides of David Moyes.

GRAB YOUR COPYCraig Bellamy: GoodFella, written and adapted by Oliver Holt, RRP £18.99, is published on Monday, June 3. Mirror readers can buy it for the discounted price of £15.99 from

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Craig Bellamy is donating all his proceeds to the Craig Bellamy Foundation - visit

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