K. Phillips - a letter from Neil Redfern

Dear Kalvin,
As time goes by I try to avoid talking so often about the players I worked with in the academy at Leeds United.
It’s true that coaches leave an imprint on the lads they manage — you know that from your development under Marcelo Bielsa — but these days it’s all about you.
You’ve done the graft, you’ve made it happen and you take the credit for going as far as you have. I think of my involvement with you as a little part of your story; a story which never fails to make me smile.
You were a fantastic kid, right from the off. Everyone came to recognise the afro (it stood out a mile at the training ground) but the thing about you, the thing I remember more than anything else, was your attitude.
Your attitude and athleticism.
You were late to the academy in comparison to some of the other boys but you had talent and you were instantly likeable. People said you were laidback — laidback to the point of being horizontal etc — but they were making a mistake if they underestimated your professional motivation. Relaxed, yes. But so driven.
I don’t know if you remember us talking about the way you used to walk.
You were like me when I was a youngster with Nottingham Forest.
The coaches at Forest told me that I had a habit of walking side to side instead of forward, with a bit of a sway or a swagger. I saw the same thing in you early on and I’d tell you, “Everything needs to be forward with an athlete. Everything needs to be linear, even the way you walk."
Maybe you thought I was talking nonsense but your mentality as a footballer is linear, forever trying to progress and get better.
Anyone surprised by your trajectory or your range of passing shouldn’t be.
You used to pass like that when I first saw you.
Even at 15, you could switch play with precision over 30 or 40 yards, no problem.
You had the awareness to see difficult balls and you liked to try and control play.
Honestly, dealing with you and the likes of Alex Mowatt, Charlie Taylor, Sam Byram and Lewis Cook was a privilege.
As a crop you were so good that we’d run you through certain routines and then, after a while, we’d leave you to get on with them yourselves. You’d bring your own tweaks and ideas into the sessions. Sometimes us coaches couldn’t help but just stand back and watch.
There was a level of unity in that academy squad which helped everyone along the way.
Obviously there were jinks as well, like the time one of our keepers nicked Charlie Taylor’s keys and started wheel-spinning his new car around the car park.
I remember seeing you all in hysterics by the window in the dining room — and the keeper was having a right laugh too until I appeared in the foyer and told him to get up to my f' office! If one of you made a senior debut, the rest of you were chuffed to bits.
There was no jealousy or resentment. I know for a fact that even the guys who didn’t make it at Leeds, your Ross Killocks and Alex Purvers, will be so proud of where you are. It was that sort of group.
The season when I took over as first-team manager at Leeds, 2014-15, was a weird one for the club.
There was a lot going on behind the scenes but I was determined I was going to play you kids.
I knew you all inside out, I trusted you and you were easily good enough.
There must have been moments when people saw my teamsheets and thought ‘f'ing hell!’, like away at Wolves when I gave you your debut.
They were a good side, that Wolves team. Strong and full of goals. It wasn’t a great game for a manager because it ended 4-3 to them and it was swinging back and forward but the story of it was the way in which you lads performed, like ducks to water.
I didn’t tell you you were playing until the day of the game. Part of me didn’t want you to have a sleepless night but part of me knew you’d just step in and get on with it so there was no need to prepare you in any special way.
Did I sense then that you’d be playing in a European Championship final with England seven years later? It would be dishonest to say yes because in any academy there are a lot of elite players. But I knew you were a player, 100 per cent. I knew you’d push yourself.
I’m a Leeds United supporter and as one of them, you never stop feeling proud of Leeds.
But back when you were breaking through, it wasn’t always easy for people to be proud of what the club were doing or some of what was happening there. It was a bit of a mess.
That’s the difference now. I think you embody everything good about Leeds.
You’re homegrown and as much as people hate to hear talk about DNA, academy development is part of the DNA at Leeds going back to the Don Revie days.
You’re easy to relate to, you’ve never lost touch and you’ve been one of the stars of the Bielsa era. On top of that, you stuck around and saw promotion through.
(cont'd)