I paid a visit to Cambridge United’s brand new training ground last week.  

It’s set on a piece of land leased from Clare College, the same piece of land that twenty years earlier I would train on – that’s if the club secretary had managed to beg the college to let us use it for the day.  

Very often, we’d end up training on a common called Parkers Piece - incidentally, the same piece of land where the first rules of football were drawn up in 1863.

I’d been contacted by Callum Langley, Cambridge United’s Academy Player Care Manager.  He had asked if I’d give a mental health inspired talk for the clubs under 19s and under 23s.  I love doing these kinds of talks. I’ve learned a huge amount about mental health throughout my career and I have no problem talking about it and passing on whatever wisdom I can to help anybody that needs it.

Of course, many kids of that age rarely think they have an issue with mental health.  Having been led to a very nice theatre-style room, I introduced myself to the usual muttering and arse-shifting. I’m well aware that the mindset at the beginning is always that of a person trying to work out why they're there, can they get out of it and, if not, how long is it going to go on for?

And that’s when I play my Ace card.  In a small wheelie case that I keep under lock and key, there are the shirts of Premier League players that I’ve swapped with throughout my career, from what I always introduce as a golden age (the truth is every era is a golden age).

The shirts include those worn by the likes of Steven Gerrard, Xabi Alonso, David Luiz, Joleon Lescott, Nemaja Vidic, Rio Ferdinand, some bloke called Kevin Doyle, and Gareth Bale.

That’s when the muttering stops, the arses shift forward in the seats, and people begin to listen to how these players, of all the millions of kids that take up football, made it to the top.

I’ve decided that every player in my collection has taught me something.  Some lessons are harder to find than others but they’re definitely there.  

Vidic is a good case in point.  After a typically bruising encounter against the great defender, we exchanged shirts at the final whistle.  But I’d wanted the United defenders shirt so that I could make a point, for me the battle was still going.  Vidic removed his shirt and I used it to wipe my brow, “thanks”, I said. “As soon as I’ve finished cleaning my car with it I’ll send it back to Manchester.”

“Ah, very good”, he said.  “When you get home, please can you send me more of your shirts, because I have more cars than you.”

Brilliant.  

I’ve chosen to remember that moment as a lesson in humility, as well as the importance of separating work from pleasure.  You can fight as hard as you like in the boardroom, but the moment you’re on the other side of the door, that fight is over and the things that really matter in life continue again.  

We walked off the pitch with each other's shirts over our shoulders, chatting and laughing about who knows what, just as it should be.

The shirts have a natural progression to them and sometimes I’ll tell the stories without revealing the name, and it can be fun to listen to the audience trying to guess which name might be on the reverse before I reveal it.

Not to judge anybody, but I’m often left frustrated by friends who frame their shirt collections and stick them up in some kind of games room to collect dust.  

Actually, I find it quite sad.  Do you honestly think that when I’m sitting in my house switching off from the world that I want to look up and see the name of John Terry hovering above my TV?  No thanks. There’s even a well-known story about a player from our 106 team who swapped shirts with Ronaldo and hung the framed shirt above the marital bed. I mean, I ask you!

The shirts I collected from my playing days are of no importance to me except for taking them to schools, clubs and corporate talks, and allowing people to hold them, wear them, and have pictures taken with them.  Ultimately, I’d hope that people are inspired by them.

The corporate version of the talk is always good fun.  The themes are a little more adult, there’s some bad words at times and the stories are a lot more fruity. Because, well, when you have Ashley Cole’s shirt in your collection, the anecdotes tend to tell themselves