Because of the type of player I’d been – or at least the type other people perceived me to be – there was an expectation that I would go into management. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know whether I would do it – whether I could do it, or whether I’d have the opportunity.

I found the expectation a bit of a burden. There was a part of me that didn’t want to do it because of that.

A few months after I retired a phone call from the owner of Carlisle United – a club battling to stay in the Football League – changed that. Sometimes you just have to weigh things up and then take a risk.

I look back at that season with a lot of fondness. One of the things that struck me – and I still look out for this now – was the humility of the players. I’d just finished playing at Middlesbrough (above), a club that had spent millions on building an amazing training ground. Now I was working at a place where, every morning, my assistant John Halpin had to ring round to try and find somewhere for us to go and train.

“The kids ran out to the pool: ‘Dad, you’ve been sacked!’”

Before each session we’d go around picking up dog shit, to make sure it was clear for the players to train.

Yes, I found the job difficult, because I was inexperienced, and you could ask if I was really ready for it. But if you always wait for the perfect opportunity are you ever going to get it?

You couldn’t teach what I learned in the five months I was there.

Though it was certainly a close shave. One that could have been a lot more damaging if it hadn’t been for a goalkeeper scoring a winning goal in the fifth minute of added time in our last game of the season – saving us from relegation.