Lucas Radebe – So good they named their kids after him

Try as he might, Lucas Radebe could not hold back the tears. Almost 40 years to the day since Albert Johanneson’s historic appearance in the FA Cup final, nearly 38,000 supporters crammed into Elland Road on 2 May 2005 to say goodbye to one of Leeds United’s most iconic players at his testimonial. It was difficult to underestimate the impact ‘The Chief’ had made in the decade since he and fellow South African Phil Masinga first arrived in Yorkshire. After rejecting an approach to join Manchester United having become captain of the vibrant Leeds side which somehow reached the last four of the Champions League in 2001, Radebe’s influence had always extended way beyond the pitch.

As well as the Kaiser Chiefs rock band who were christened in honour of his former club, a Twitter exchange in August 2019 revealed that ‘Lucas’ continues to be one of the most popular boys’ names in Leeds, with a number of supporters getting in touch after Radebe responded to one fan who had named his son after the former captain. But even more than his cult status in the city, Radebe became a Premier League legend who transcended club loyalty thanks to his wholehearted performances and unwavering commitment to the cause.

“This is my hero,” admitted President Nelson Mandela when he met South Africa’s captain on a visit to Leeds Town Hall in 2001. By then, the effects of years of injuries and repeatedly travelling back and forth to represent his homeland were already taking its toll on Radebe’s body. The victim of a shooting in 1992 – a few weeks after Kaizer Chiefs had faced Steve Coppell’s Crystal Palace and his future teammate Nigel Martyn in a historic pre-season match – while on his way to the local shop in Diepkloof in Soweto, the bullet miraculously entered his back and somehow missed any organs or arteries before exiting through his thigh. “There was a history of players being shot for swapping teams,” he later recalled. “But I’ve no idea what the motive was in my case. Nobody was caught. Nobody saw who did it.”

Radebe recovered sufficiently to move to Leeds with Masinga two years later. After the appearance on the wing for his debut, however, he lasted just 24 minutes on his first start in central defence against a Coventry side featuring Peter Ndlovu before rupturing the cruciate ligaments in his right knee. Never fully trusted by Howard Wilkinson – the manager who had guided Leeds to the last First Division title in 1992 – it wasn’t until former Arsenal boss George Graham arrived at Elland Road in 1996 that he established himself as a regular in the first team. Being part of Bafana Bafana’s victory in the Africa Cup of Nations on home soil at the start of the year along with Masinga had helped cement Radebe’s status as a national hero. Two months later, his willingness to don the gloves at Old Trafford when goalkeeper Mark Beeney was sent off in the first half of a league match against United began his burgeoning love affair with the Leeds faithful. Having started out between the sticks in his youth sides, Radebe pulled off some miraculous saves and was only beaten by Roy Keane’s winning goal 18 minutes from time. When Graham moved to Spurs at the start of the 1998/99 season, Radebe was made captain by his replacement David O’Leary and played an integral role in helping his young side finish fourth. They went one better the following year to qualify for the Champions League, with the South African’s performances attracting the attention of Sir Alex Ferguson, AC Milan and Fabio Capello’s Roma. “Everyone should be interested in Lucas,” said the United manager at the time.

12 Mar 2000: Lucas Radebe. Pic: Clive Brunskill /Allsport

Yet his allegiances to the club which had given him his chance in European football meant Radebe never seriously considered leaving Elland Road for their bitter rivals despite the significantly

improved salary on offer. “When I first went to Leeds, I appreciated the opportunity of playing in the Premier League, even if they were lingering near the bottom half,” Radebe recalls. “For me, that’s one of the things that pushed me to stay at the club, as I felt very loved there because of how they looked after me. It’s about the loyalty. I think if I had gone to Manchester United at that time, I wouldn’t have grown as I did at Leeds, and make the impact that I did. I felt that I belonged to Leeds United.”

He would later refer to the £18 million purchase of Rio Ferdinand from West Ham in November 2000 as the moment the club’s adventure under former chairman Peter Ridsdale began to spiral out of control – a situation that would lead to relegation in 2004. But for a few months that season, anything had seemed possible. Despite a 4-0 thrashing by Barcelona at the Camp Nou in their opening Champions League match that saw Radebe carried off on a stretcher in the final minute, having suffered the first of many concussions in his later career, Leeds went into the final game knowing a draw against Milan would take them through ahead of the Spanish club.

A formidable performance from Radebe helped O’Leary’s young side escape the San Siro with the result they needed, with Ferdinand arriving a fortnight later in what was then a world-record fee for a defender. But just as the new partnership was settling in, disaster struck during the penultimate second group stage tie against Real Madrid. Leeds had already booked their place in the last eight after ending Anderlecht’s 20-match unbeaten run at home in European competition in the previous game. Yet the sight of their captain being stretchered off after 61 minutes after he had twisted his right knee making a clearance was the main talking point among supporters on their way back to Yorkshire after the 3-2 defeat.

Radebe ended up missing the victory over Deportivo La Coruña in the quarter-finals and the defeat to Valencia in the last four as the number of injuries he had suffered over the years finally caught up with him. When Ferdinand was sold to Manchester United in 2002 for £30 million, his fellow defender was out for the entire season but did manage to mark his second appearance at a World Cup finals with a goal against Spain. Radebe retired from international football a year later after Bafana Bafana’s historic friendly against England and admits the air miles he racked up amassing his 70 caps had been a contributing factor to the longevity of his career.

“I had a terrible time,” he says. “Most of the decisions to retire are made by players who know they have to do something to keep their careers going. Travelling back and forth on long-haul flights all the time causes injuries and eventually takes its toll on the body. And there’s no appreciation of the effort you are putting in. As players you need to be treated as number one – when you retire only you have to live with your body.”

As Radebe admits, the scheduling of the Africa Cup of Nations must take most of the blame for the demands placed on the continent’s players at the turn of the new millennium. By then, such had been the influence of the Leeds captain that more than 30 could be found on the books of Premier League clubs, compared to just three in 1993. But if the performances of players like Radebe, Nwankwo Kanu and Coventry’s Moroccan duo Mustapha Hadji and Youssef Chippo persuaded more and more club managers to recruit African players over the next decade, the prospect of losing them for six weeks in January every two years also dissuaded many. “With the Africa Cup of Nations being played at a crucial time in European leagues, it brings up an enormous problem in terms of contradictory interests,” wrote then Chelsea manager José Mourinho in the Portuguese sports paper Record in 2006.

“The national teams are protected by legislation, the clubs are without legal power to fight for their interests. Chelsea without Drogba, Liverpool without Sissoko, Arsenal without Touré, Barcelona

without Eto’o, Porto without Benni McCarthy, Benfica without Pedro Mantorras are some examples which leave us weakened and which surely push us to ask the question, ‘Is it worth signing them?’”

“I won’t give up on African talent and its footballing characteristics,” Mourinho added. “I will continue to contribute towards its progress but never with more than one player from the same country, because I cannot be in the hands of good sense or the lack of it.”

Nonetheless, by the time Radebe hung up his boots in 2005, the number of African players in England’s top flight had sailed past 40, with many enjoying similarly exalted status as the Chief of Elland Road. Hadji, who arrived in 1999 and spent two years at Highfield Road before moving to Aston Villa, certainly belonged in that category too.

“It’s because I was one of them,” he says two decades on.

“When I met people on the street or in a bar I was always talking to them – even if I didn’t know their names and would never see them again! It’s the best way to adapt yourself – to let people see you the way that you are rather than looking at you like a footballer. I wanted people to look at me like the man I am, not just a Coventry player.”

Born in Morocco, Hadji moved to Alsace-Lorraine with his family as a child and represented France at Under-21 level before opting to play for the Atlas Lions. Along with midfielder Chippo – who spent four years in the East Midlands – the Moroccans were so popular at Coventry that supporters became fond of wearing fezzes to matches in their honour and Hadji believes that was partly down to the cult status Ndlovu had enjoyed at the club.

“He left just before me and I think for all the fans and English people seeing what he could do made it much easier for the players who came afterwards. That’s why I always say to modern players that when you play somewhere it’s not only about you. You have to be an example for the people who are coming after you. Moroccan players today have to be an example for the next generation. For instance, if Chippo or I or Drogba had come to England and had a bad image, then it would have made it difficult for African players to establish themselves in the Premier League.”

“It takes a lot out of you, my heart is weak,” admitted Lucas Radebe in an interview with The Guardian in April 2004. Having seen the majority of their highly paid stars leave the club after Ridsdale’s gamble backfired spectacularly, Leeds were staring down the barrel at relegation after a disastrous season that saw Eddie Gray – Albert Johanneson’s successor on the left wing – installed as the caretaker manager. Defeat against Bolton a few days later eventually confirmed the inevitable as Gray was sacked, with Radebe making just three more matches in the Championship the next season before finally calling it a day.

Made in Africa: The History of African Players in English Football, by Ed Aarons, is published by Arena Sport on 1 June 2020. To order a copy click here.

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