Micah Richards tells cracking Stephen Ireland story from their Man City days

Lee Costello

“He seemed so proud of himself. we didn’t want to embarrass him.”

Micah Richards’ story about Stephen Ireland from their Man City days is just the most Stephen Ireland thing ever, and you can’t help but laugh.

Richards and Ireland came through the Man City academy around the same time, although the Irish midfielder was a little bit older and had broken onto the team first.

This was City before the money, when they were the likeable, plucky underdog that relied heavily on bringing youth through the ranks.

They found two quality players in both Ireland and Richards, as both would successfully break onto the first team and enjoy successful careers in the Premier League.

Anyone who has played the eccentric Ireland usually has a good story or two about him, and in Richards book The Game, the now Sky Sports pundit tells one of the best ones yet.

One week, he decided that he wanted to have a few of us over for dinner. That’s not the sort of invitation that you get from a fellow player. They might invite you on a night out. They might decide that they want to sort a table at a club.

They very rarely suggest that you get together for a chat and some wine. Particularly when you’re all in your late teens, and you’re Stephen Ireland.

But he was adamant. He wanted a group of us to come to his place to eat. Stranger still, he declared that he was going to cook.

That raised a few eyebrows. We didn’t want to judge, but Stephen Ireland didn’t really strike anyone as much of a genius in the kitchen. It seemed unlikely that he would be a gifted chef and just hadn’t thought to mention it.

It was, I would say, pretty high risk that we would all go to his house for dinner and come back with food poisoning. But still we went – we were too intrigued to turn the offer down.

When we got there, he pulled out all of the stops. The food was carefully presented on his finest China, it was all neatly arranged, Marinated chicken, twice cooked chips, and some vegetables.

But like I say, I know chicken, I would go as far to say, I’m a chicken connoisseur and I knew, from the first bite, that this wasn’t some ancient family recipe that was passed down to Stephen from one of his many grandmothers, including a secret blend of herb and spices – I know a Nando’s when I taste one.

And there was no doubt in my mind, that this was a Nando’s. It wasn’t even a Peri Peri spice mix that you buy in the supermarket to recreate that recognisable taste from the comfort of your own kitchen, this was takeaway Nando’s.

He got the food delivered, taken out of the boxes, served it out on plates, and was now pretending to all of us that he cooked it. Maybe it would have worked if he had invited a different group of players.

Not that we said anything of course. He had gone to school an effort, he seemed so proud of himself. we didn’t want to embarrass him. We told him the chicken was great.

It’s the sort of thing you would expect from the quirky midfielder, and it shows that even behind all of the flash, and the money, professional footballers just want the approval of their friends more than anything.

To be fair any friend that buys you a Nando’s is a good one in our book.

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