Born in Buckhurst Hill on the border of Essex and London in 1987, Mark Wright rose to fame as a cast member of The Only Way Is Essex. Originally, however, his ambitions lay in football – with a youth career playing for Arsenal, Tottenham and West Ham. He was playing for non-league Bishop’s Stortford when he joined the reality TV show in 2010 for three seasons; he has gone on to forge a career in TV and radio broadcasting.
His brother, Josh, born in 1989, has been a professional footballer since he was 17 and currently plays for Ebbsfleet United. The brothers travel the UK in their new BBC show, A Wright Family Holiday, along with their father, “Big” Mark.
Mark
I remember the feelings and smells of these Spanish holidays like it was yesterday: women selling pineapple up and down Campoamor beach, lilos in the sea, bat and ball. Nan would bring down the coolbox filled with ham and cheese baguettes, and we’d have cans of fizzy orange. I’d play with Josh and my sisters and cousins until sunset.
These days, we go to beach clubs and drink in nice bars but back then it was raw – just sand and a beach hut, if you were lucky. As for the pants, we still wear budgie smugglers. Our wives laugh at us for it.
Josh and I were joined at the hip. Growing up with a brother was the greatest feeling in the world. It was like living with your best mate and every night was a sleepover. Our personalities and interests were the same, but I’ve always been a lot louder than Josh, and we’re starting to think I probably have undiagnosed ADHD.
Josh is a bit more still and quiet. He was the youngest, so I was often the one who’d get in trouble when we’d play knock down ginger, or do other badly behaved things at school. Our teachers always said to Mum: “Josh and Mark are naughty but I can’t tell them off too much because they’re kind and charming as well.”
We never bullied anyone and would protect anyone who was being picked on. I took my role as a big brother seriously, too. If we were out, I’d stick up for Josh and probably escalate the situation. In fact, six months ago we were playing six-a-side and someone tackled him hard and could have injured him. I lost my head and chased after him. It was stupid, but an automatic reaction. I get too emotionally involved when it comes to my brother.
Despite the fact we’ve both played football professionally, I’ve never felt jealous. Josh was always better than me – he was the superstar kid that all the clubs wanted. Not once did I think: “Oh damn, he’s made it and I haven’t.”
I’ll never forget his debut at the championship when he scored against Man United. I was screaming and running down the stairs as he ran over from the pitch to hug me.
We’re definitely emotional together but as we’re alpha males, it can take us a while to actually come out with what’s bothering us. Josh has had his struggles with mental health, and a year ago I was in a strange place, too. I felt like I was riding this train, making money, living a fast life. But I also knew there was something off. Josh had called [my wife] Michelle to say he was worried about me – so I knew something serious was going on. I ended up calling him to ask what he thought was wrong.
He said: “It’s the little things. We used to go to the cafe before playing football with the boys on Sunday, but you’ve stopped doing that. You’ve stopped coming round as much and when you are there you’re not in the moment, you’re on your phone.” I broke down. I felt I was letting my loved ones down.
Whenever people ask what it was like to be in the final of I’m A Celebrity … I always say getting votes was a bigger compliment than having any talent – because when you’re succeeding for being yourself, you’re essentially succeeding for being a good person. So when Josh told me I was upsetting my family with how I was acting, that completely knocked me out. I started to think: has this job and fame changed me permanently? And can I get myself back? Luckily, I have: I’ve settled down and realised what’s important in life – my family and friends. That conversation with my brother was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Over the years our paths never diverged, but we’ve lived very different lives. I’ve done more than him – I’ve managed to see the world and tried out lots of different experiences – and he’s had to subscribe to the disciplined routines required for a career in football. In a way I am excited for him to retire – I want him to succeed but I’m looking forward to the day he hangs his boots up and I can say: “Josh – we’re going to the September closing night in Ibiza” and he can finally reply: “Yes!”
Josh
Our late uncle Eddie had restaurants in Spain and we used to visit him and our cousins annually. We had the best times on that beach. I remember the shallow part of the sea with waves coming in, playing games, and the odd meal out in the evening. When this was taken, Mark and I were getting up to friendly mischief. I’m holding some form of tasty soft drink and no doubt he was being a joker.
Mark and I are alike. We sound the same. We’ve got a similar sense of discipline and we’re energetic and hard-working. We like to lead, organise. But I’m more calm and serious than my brother. I know when to chill, whereas Mark is a little bit frantic; he’s always wanting to be on the move and always winding someone up. It’s a good trait and I wouldn’t trade it for the world as he lifts the room as soon as he walks in.
When we were young, we’d get into debates, mostly over football and who had won or cheated. One of us would storm into a different room and take a chill pill, then we’d be best buds and play again. We’d get told off a lot together, too, for messing around in the front room and knocking over ornaments.
Mark and I went to the same school and there were some occasions where he would step in to protect me. Nothing big or sinister, but it was nice to have him around when I was smaller. Although I am now the taller brother – don’t let him tell you otherwise!
Whenever we really need to get something off our chest, we’re there to lean on each other. He’s the one who tells me I need to pull my weight, or to pat me on the back. I’ve played football all my life and sometimes I get a bit of stick – that just comes with being in front of the general public. Mark did, too, when he joined Towie. I saw praise for him but also so much negativity and hurtful comments. I probably retaliated too much in defence of him, as I would always respond, whether that was on a computer or a phone or in person. Mark is very strong but there’s nothing that can stop you from getting affected by that level of abuse. I was there for him then and I’ll be there for him for ever.