Born in Birmingham in 1988, Troy Deeney grew up in Chelmsley Wood on one of the biggest housing estates in Europe. Now a football pundit and campaigner, he spent 11 years at Watford as striker and then captain; before retiring, he was the player-manager of Forest Green Rovers. His brother, Ellis, was a semi-professional footballer and former captain of Aston Villa’s academy team. In 2021, Troy published Redemption: My Story, a memoir about his upbringing and his turbulent relationship with his adoptive father, Paul. Troy has set up Vision Football Factory, a youth initiative in the Birmingham area.
Troy
Nan took this photo. Whenever there was a party at her house, every adult ended up on that swing. It broke a lot. Me, Mum and my brother and sister lived in a small flat, so Nan’s garden was like being at Wembley. She also had the good chocolate bars – KitKats and Jaffa Cakes.
I would describe our childhood as dream-like. We had a lot of laughs. There were some tough moments that felt like a bad dream, but I knew one day we’d get to where we wanted. For the most part it was genuinely fun. Especially with me and Ellis. We loved football. Everything was a challenge, a competition. Dad wanted us to play football with the older kids, so we got street smart, and were well accustomed to being roughed up from a young age.
I never liked confrontation or arguing. I am a people-pleaser. I’ve always been the funny kid. After the incident with Dad [aged nine, Troy and his mother experienced domestic abuse], my mentality changed. Dad got nicked. From then on, he was around, but he didn’t live with us. Instead, I became the man of the house.
When I was 11, I started working, just glass collecting in the pub. Mum worked three jobs, so I would have to skip the end of school to collect Ellis and [my sister] Sasha from their school. I’d get them both home, trying to make the journey as fun as possible, then make Ellis beans on toast before he went to Aston Villa.
To this day, one of my proudest moments was when I collected my brother and sister, and I gave them both my coat and jumper so they wouldn’t get wet in the rain. I got soaked in just my T-shirt, but they were OK, and that’s all that mattered.
Dad had this aura, and up until we buried him in 2012, I didn’t know he was my size. To me, he was 8ft 10. He was the strongest, fittest, loudest person you’ve ever met. He was very ambitious for us – not just with football, but everything. He was adamant we were not going to be like him, so we didn’t have his last name for that reason. Dad knew I was smart, but I was never the best at football. I’d always get picked fifth at school, whereas Ellis was No 1. It’s annoying having a little brother that is so good at everything. There’s nothing he’s bad at, physically.
By comparison, I was the class clown. I found school easy and boring. I’d do the work in 15 minutes and have another 45 minutes to entertain myself and the rest of the class. As a result, I broke the record for the most detentions in one year; 202 in total. Just for being a twat. Still now, everything’s a joke to me, even if it’s a horrible situation. Emotions make me feel weird; I want to get out of feeling them as quickly as possible, so I just try to be lighthearted.
When I got into my teens, I started drinking. I had all this built-up aggression that I didn’t know how to deal with. No one was talking about mental health or trauma. It wasn’t impressive to be the funny one any more; it was better to be the tough one.
I got married this summer and in Mum’s speech she said: “Now that you’re retired, I hope everyone gets to see more of Troy and less of Troy Deeney.” I morphed into this character for a while. I was getting more money, fame and notoriety. To this day, I still think someone’s going to turn around and take everything from me, so I burn the candle at both ends. It’s how I survive: I’ve become used to living in fight or flight. I’d be more comfortable if the house was burning down than if everything was fine and the bills were paid on time. Normal is scary, which is a bit sad, really.
There’s a love between brothers that can never be matched. Even if me and Ellis didn’t speak for 20 years, our childhood, the good and bad, and our fundamental core values, mean we’ll always come back to each other.
Ellis
I used to think Nan’s house was a mansion. There were loads of good hiding places. Once, me and my cousins forgot to find Troy and went to play football instead. An hour later, he came to get us: “What, are you not still looking for me any more?”
Troy was the golden child. He was a joker who didn’t like to upset the apple cart. He was Mum’s best friend, which I used to moan about. I would come downstairs and try to listen in on the conversation, but they’d find out and I’d get sent to bed.
I always looked up to Troy. He was smart and could talk to anyone – whereas I used to stutter and am probably dyslexic. He was cooler than me, and knew how to dress especially when he got a bit of money. We were very different people: I have to be active all the time. I played football, basketball, tennis and ice hockey; anything boisterous and adrenalised I was interested in, and I was more of a rebel. I once wrote off Mum’s car.
Our childhood made us grow up fast. We saw the worst of what life had to offer and after the incident with Dad there was nothing else to fear. My memories of it are blank. I remember the bit before, then when Dad got nicked. I still don’t talk about it now – for a while it was a trigger for me. I had some issues with anger, to the extent that I couldn’t do banter. Football got me out of that – in my teens I would be playing day in, day out, and joking every day. I was 16 before I really understood I could laugh with people. Now, banter is everything.
From 23 to 30, me and Troy grew apart. Troy is Troy – my brother. But he’s also Troy Deeney, this famous footballer character. That’s not who I know. When it bleeds into his family life, when he’s acting differently at home, we have to have words, but I understand. We’re from a council estate, we’re from nothing, and while that doesn’t define us, it’s who we are. When someone earns millions and has everything all of a sudden, when nobody tells you “no”, how can you not change? Nobody tells you how to deal with fame and success. But we’re through that now.
Troy lives an hour away from me. We’re not the type to talk on the phone, mainly because I’m quite quiet and reserved. We do text, though. He recently got into golf, so when we get time off work we do a round together. Will he ever beat me? Not any time soon. He’ll get there, one day.
