Gambling addiction saw me steal from my dying nana..
Gambling addiction saw me steal from my dying nana.. but I would sink further still, admits Kevin Twaddle
FORMER SPL football star Kevin Twaddle has opened his heart on the devastating gambling addiction which cost him £1million.
I LOVED my nana, Annie Barker, to bits. I really did.
Her health was failing when I was at Motherwell and I went to see her every single day.
My mum used to say what a great laddie I was because it looked like I was doing so much for my nana. Kevin Twaddle's nana Annie Barker, right
She didn’t know I’d had a key cut for a box in my nan’s living room where she kept all her money.
She didn’t know I was stealing her life savings.
I didn’t go into the box and take all the money in one swoop but gradually, over the months, I took out small amounts until there was next to nothing left.
I don’t know how much money I actually stole from her. I would hate to know what the exact figure was. It was a substantial amount and, at a guess, I would say it would have been in excess of £10,000 if I am being totally honest.
What sort of person would do that to their own nana? There are no words that can describe the shame I feel.
I don’t say that for sympathy because, after the way I treated my nana, that is the last thing I should be entitled to.
The most galling thing is that, if I had just asked my nana for the money, I know she would have happily given it to me but I didn’t want to tell anyone I had a gambling problem.
I watched my nana die and – I have to be honest although I know it might sound cold-hearted and it was – I didn’t even want to go to her funeral.
Not because I didn’t love her or I was unable to cope with the grief but because I had an illness. I was caught up in a gambling frenzy.
To most people who maybe haven’t had a betting addiction, it might sound like a load of rubbish, a cock-and-bull story to try to justify my actions but it wasn’t.
I don’t think any sane individual could defend my actions. But when you are a gambling addict, it consumes you and takes over your life without you even knowing. It is hard to explain. Kevin Twaddle and his wife, Jac
Gambling becomes all-consuming. It becomes the be-all and end-all. You will go to extreme lengths and measures just so you can put on a bet and satisfy your cravings and impulses. I was that sick, although I didn’t even realise it.
My nana died on November 24, 2003. I didn’t want to grieve. The only place I wanted to be was at the bookies. I even left my nana’s funeral early so I could get to the bookmakers for the first horse race of the day.
I look back on that day with nothing but shame and embarrassment. How could I have done that to somebody I was so close to? There can be no excuses, even though I was in such a bad place with gambling.
It had taken over my life and was at the centre of everything I did. Thinking back, I am just relieved I went to the funeral because I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I hadn’t gone and probably, back then, it would have been touch and go.
I should have been the first person there because my nana did so much for me and was one of the most caring and loving people I ever met.
I think, at the end, my nana knew about my gambling although, like everybody else, she didn’t know the full extent of it.
I did some horrible things to her but I do genuinely miss her terribly and I do think about her every day.
I just wish she was still here to see me today. I just hope that, if she is looking down on me, maybe she can be proud of the person I am now.
I am very different to the one who waved her farewell from this world.
By then, I had numerous people coming to my parents’ door looking for money, from sheriff officers to some really unscrupulous characters.
The phone was going 24/7, with people looking to threaten me.
My mum and dad didn’t know half the stuff that was going on because most nights I would put their phone on silent to stop it ringing.
The last thing I wanted to do was have them answering the phone and knowing what I had got myself embroiled in.
I was stealing from my mum too. I tore her to pieces with my gambling and what I did to her.
I had my mum over a barrel. She would never tell my dad what I had done because I would blackmail her emotionally. I would say things like: “If you tell dad, I will never speak to you again.” I was out of control.
To be fair to my mum, she didn’t tell my dad until near the end, when I was at the height of my troubles and when things were really bad.
Money was going missing from her bank account left, right and centre and, at that point, it was obvious to everybody that I needed help. Everybody but me.
Kevin Twaddle’s autobiography Life On The Line sells for £11.99 but we can offer Sunday Mail readers copies at the exclusive price of £10 including postage and packaging. All you have to do is call Black and White Publishing from tomorrow between 10am and 5pm, Monday to Friday, and quote “Kevin Twaddle Book Offer”. Offer ends on Friday, November 16, 2012. Please allow 12 days for delivery.
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