The former England keeper discusses his sometimes borderline deluded outlook and being proud to defend the values of the club he loves
T
om Heaton wears a scowl. Sodden and frozen, he trudges off a pitch at Manchester United’s Carrington training base, gesticulating and muttering a goalkeeper-eyed analysis of the game his team have just lost. “We got pumped,” he says loudly, his annoyance clear.
Sometimes the obvious question must be asked: even on days such as this, does Heaton still enjoy it? “I love it,” is his response, his near‑permanent grin reappearing.
That short assessment makes sense of everything: why a goalkeeper would grind despite minimal chance of game time; why a man with three England caps, who turns 40 in April, still does what he does, day in, day out; and why the trope of the third-choice keeper being a lazy freeloader is so wrong.
