For almost a decade we have all – to various degrees – been trying to work out how good Eric Dier is. Since his Tottenham debut, in August 2014, through an array of elite managers for club and country, scoring that penalty in 2018, hurling himself into that tackle, launching into the stands to defend his brother, tweeting against Brexit and having now sealed an unlikely move to Bayern Munich, there has always been a question mark.
I’m not sure there’s a footballer I’ve willed to succeed more, willed more to prove the doubters wrong. As someone who is also often accused of stealing a living, perhaps it’s just natural empathy, my footballing embodiment. But there he is, my favourite Eric since Bananaman.
In the binary social media world, he is absolute shite or world-class. In the real world where all professional footballers are really quite good, the answer is probably only one or two rungs, one or two yards, below the elite. And yet Pochettino, Hodgson, Southgate, Mourinho, Conte and now Tuchel have wanted him.
It seemed slightly merciless from an irked Ange Postecoglou, asked whether Spurs could cope with selling Dier in this window with all their injury problems, that he took a moment and then replied: “Yes.” But then, refreshingly, that is Postecoglou’s way. Dier probably appreciates the honesty. It’s not hard to see it is time to move on when Emerson Royal is picked ahead of you at centre-back. Even though Dier is right in the middle of that extraordinary high-line picture at home to Chelsea this season, he is not a high-line type of guy.
A decade of any Spurs player generally conjures images of almosts – of title challenges, the Champions League final in Madrid, of someone looking just slightly miffed after conceding a goal that was no one’s fault but also appeared entirely avoidable (see also Hugo Lloris, Jan Vertonghen, you know the names). But Dier’s is a career of moments.
Perhaps it is a problem of looking at football through the lens of mid-life crisis but it is almost unthinkable that his debut on the opening day of the 2014-15 season was nine and a half years ago. He lined up in a back four with Kyle Naughton, Younes Kaboul and Danny Rose at Upton Park. Injury time, 0-0, both sides down to 10 men, when the 83rd-minute substitute Harry Kane, on for the ineffectual Emmanuel Adebayor, slips the ball through to the fresh-faced Dier.
He is played onside by Guy Demel, takes one touch past Adrián and slides it home. He celebrates with Kane before Andros Townsend jumps on his back. Lewis Holtby jogs up to congratulate him. And from that moment, most weeks of my life have at least to some minuscule degree been spent considering Eric Dier.
Moments. He scored England’s first winning penalty in a men’s World Cup shootout. Perhaps it is indicative of how Dier is viewed that you could feel a collective nationwide “really?” as he stepped up to take the decisive spot-kick. Never universally loved in an England shirt, but never the butt of the joke, never the Phil Jones, never the Harry Maguire.
The BBC’s World Cup montages are worth the licence fee alone and the one they made before the 2018 semi-final with Croatia spliced together a lifetime of penalty heartache with that last-16 shootout against Colombia. Characteristically, Dier is best supporting actor here with Jordan Pickford the star. But, still, what a moment. Not the cleanest strike, he joins rather than leads the celebration but there he is, a history-maker.
Perhaps his cleanest strike in an England shirt is that tackle on Sergio Ramos in the 3-2 win in Spain. Ten minutes into the game, he sprints 20 yards to storm through Ramos in the Spanish penalty area. “I want Eric Dier’s tackle on Sergio Ramos played at my funeral,” tweeted David Squires. If Postecoglou had seen such a high press perhaps things would be different.
Has any player stormed into the crowd to confront a fan and received universal support? After a Spurs home defeat on penalties by Norwich in the FA Cup, Dier clambered over the seats in his boots (not easy to do) to defend his brother. An admirable, if inadvisable, act.
And he’s “not that kind of player” – an urbane non-footballery footballer. In 2019 he tweeted in favour of a #peoplesvote. “I don’t regret it all” he told the Daily Mail. “I’m very strongly against it [Brexit] and time is telling, showing that [it’s wrong for the country].”
Dier has argued that our cliched view of the dressing room is just that and conversations go beyond Dubai, cars and tattoos. A mutual friend sent me a podcast Dier guested on about the garden he grew in lockdown. There he is, just a normal-sounding bloke, albeit with a walled garden and an orchard, talking about planting trees and how to bend down with your legs when weeding. Interesting, interested and understated.
Football is too ruthless to care about how decent a person you are, but it still matters and listening to Dele Alli talk about the importance of his friendship with Dier and how much support he has given through the Everton midfielder’s well-publicised struggles gives you an idea of his decency.
Maybe decency deserves success. To Brendan-Rodgers things a little, Dier appears a man of great character. The word consummate is overused, but it stands with Dier. These past few months at Spurs must have been very difficult. His arrival at the Allianz may surprise a lot of people, but there won’t be a Spurs fan who doesn’t wish him well. It would be a testament to him if he has another moment and this time it involves lifting a trophy.
