Karen Carney is quiet in the limelight. There was almost a serenity to her final season at Chelsea and her fourth World Cup campaign.
This is a player who, after battling demons that almost forced her from the game, is preparing to go out on her own terms. In a season that rolled back the years, in which Chelsea struggled, Carney shone. When England needed some spark on the wing, Carney could still provide, with her assist for Ellen White’s second goal against Japan in the group game a highlight. But more than that, the calmness she had found personally was reflected on the pitch.
“I don’t know why I bring that calmness and I’m not really aware of it, to be honest,” Carney said earlier in the tournament. “I just come on, smile and enjoy the moment. If that brings calmness, then great. In training I’ll be in a different world and Phil will say to me: ‘You’re counting pigeons again.’ And I think that’s just who I am. I’m usually in my own little world. I see things differently, I feel things differently and that’s how I’ve always been and that’s why I’m different to everyone else.”
Her decision to speak out about her battle with depression and self-harm, which clouded her experience of the 2011 World Cup, 2012 Olympics and time in Chicago, has been a brave contribution to a discourse that hit mainstream conversation years later.
On the pitch, few have been as influential as “the wizard”. When Arsenal won a historic quadruple Carney was a part of the team; when Birmingham, her home club, beat Chelsea on penalties in the FA Cup final it was Carney who would take the winning penalty; at Chelsea she won the double in 2017-18.
If a team wanted success playing technical, clinical football, they recruited Carney. “She’s a big-moment player” said Phil Neville before England played Cameroon in Valenciennes.
The 31-year-old’s retirement marks the end of an era. The generation that paid to play, that fought with their feet, are gradually departing the field just as the women’s game is turning increasingly professional. You could forgive them for resenting the opportunities of the next generation. But instead of jealousy, there is immense pride at the hand football dealt.
“When I was 11, I just wanted to play for England,” Carney has said. “I didn’t know when it would happen, how it would happen. I picked that dream and I wanted that dream. I didn’t know how to process it.
“Since then, I’ve travelled the world. I went to university. I’ve got a degree. I’ve got a master’s. I’ve met some amazing people, I’ve lived my dream. I’ve picked up so many skill sets that I never would have. I haven’t made a lot of money but I’m comfortable. I have food, clothes on my back and my family. For me, I’ll never be bitter.”
It is an attitude befitting the humble, softly spoken player. Her lack of self-promotion is perhaps born of her working-class background. Her first job was in Sainsbury’s alongside her mum, and it is where she thinks she would still be without football.
Yet although she was quiet, her quality on the pitch was loud. Because Carney was one of those rare players, like Kelly Smith, whose natural talent helped power arguments about the potential of the game when training and coaching barely existed. She made you say “wow” in the absence of her ability being nurtured to its full extent.
The trust of Emma Hayes in the winger meant that where she coached Carney went. As Hayes moved from assistant at Arsenal to Chicago Red Stars, so did Carney; after a return to Birmingham, Carney was recruited by Hayes to help power her Chelsea revolution. Hayes told the BBC: “I’ve got to be honest, I’m absolutely devastated that she’s retiring but I’m so proud of her for all of her achievements throughout her career.
“I’ll personally feel like I’ve lost a limb when I go back to pre-season. I’m going to miss her terribly. She is a fabulous role model. She’s achieved everything she wanted to in her game and I’m thankful for that.”
Only England’s most-capped player – male or female – Fara Williams, has more appearances for the country than Carney’s 143. When her retirement was announced, many felt the same pang as Hayes. At 31 it just feels too soon to say goodbye. Kaz was, and is, a trailblazer.
