Mills is no boon

It's astonishing to discover that Danny Mills is still on Manchester City's books. He hasn't played a League game for them since August 2006, when Stuart Pearce was manager. Since then, he has had loan spells at Charlton Athletic, Derby County and, of course, Hull City.

My word, what a rum old time we've had with Danny Mills, particularly since his loan ended prematurely through a foot injury. He is one of those characters who is easy to dislike until he plays for your club, then he becomes one of yours, irrespective of past reputation or misdemeanours.

Mills had been a Leeds United player during his peak period as a combative and mouthy right back. This combination of unlikeable man at hateable club was hardly going to endear him to Hull City fans. Yet when he arrived on loan at the KC, shortly after that final games for Manchester City, he was accepted straightaway by the Tiger Nation - because he was good.

His debut was on television and immediately a pair of ducks were broken. One, we got our first home win under Phil Parkinson thanks to a Jon Parkin brace, both of which were scored before half time and after our opponents, Sheffield Wednesday, had scored a very early penalty. Two, we won on television, something the Tigers had been notoriously unable to do over the years.

Mills had played his whole career at right back. It had got him his big-money moves to Leeds United and Manchester City and suitably whopping wages. It also got him into the England team at an optimum time, with the 2002 World Cup imminent and Gary Neville ruled out with injury. He had a good, disciplined tournament as England exited in the quarter final.

So what did Parkinson do? He stuck him in at centre back.

Immediately, it was wagered that Mills had broken the record, not that one had previously existed, for the smallest central defender ever to play for Hull City. He was no Peter Skipper, no Rob Dewhurst, no Leon Cort. The method in Parkinson's madness seemed to be that Mills' leadership qualities within a dishevelled squad would be easier to convey from a central position; that as an international defender, he should be able to adapt to any back four role, especially in a lower division, and that Sam Ricketts was doing fine at right back and further upheaval was unnecessary.

Mills was instantly involved against Wednesday. A set-piece, up goes a hand and a penalty is given. It was a clear handball. Mills was the City player making the challenge. The crowd were despondent but it seemed open and shut, yet the City players were notably ferocious in their protest. As the penalty hit the net, texts came through from television viewers that the hand was that of a Sheffield Wednesday player, not Mills.

Parkin's pair of goals - a glancing header and a smart volley on the turn - gave City the win. Mills, however, was not in a forgiving mood afterwards, using his post-match interview live on television to call for the referee to apologise for making the wrong decision in the City box. He did so in a matter-of-fact yet sinister tone, clearly wanting to stir up trouble, even though the game had been won and the penalty decision, while wrong, was not crucial.

For the remaining spell of Mills' stay at the KC Stadium, it was obvious that something did not quite ring true. In a City shirt, he was obviously still a splendid defender and demonic competitor, the kind which makes opposing fans despise him and lesser characters on the pitch react, stupidly, to his chatter and tricks. QPR fans, in particular, gave me hell.

But he lapped it up. He played the game required of him, irrespective of whether he was in the centre or in his familiar role on the right. He rarely played badly in a City side which was, at times, as disjointed and clueless as it had ever been.

Mills was on a fortune at Manchester City (and presumably still is) and his loan spell at City came through the club chairman's personal friendship with the player. Adam Pearson was commercial manager at Leeds when Mills was on the playing staff, and the two had a rapport and lived close to one another. In the same way that rumours persisted that Nick Barmby was Pearson's signing, there was little doubt that Mills definitely was, and Parkinson had either agreed with his chairman that it was a worthwhile option, or gone along with it because he felt he had to. The one piece of pleasant irony was that a chunk of his wages were still coming from Leeds United, even though he'd long split for Manchester City. The short-term jollity such information prompted was soon forgotten, however, as City continued to underwhelm.

Nine games for the Tigers in total came Mills' way. City won three of them and he picked up five yellow cards, so during his short spell with the club he served a one-match ban. A broken foot in training curtailed the loan, mere weeks before Parkinson followed him out of the door. For the rest of the season, under Phil Brown, regular rumblings were heard regarding the possible return, predicted return, rumoured return, of Mills, this time for good. It would never happen, and was never on the agenda for one crucial reason...

The players hated him.

The truth came out eventually, but it was obvious that Mills was a dictatorial, arrogant, critical and divisive figure in the dressing room. Team spirit was already low, relationships were already being frayed, and then along comes a high-calibre but high-maintenance personality with gob to match. Ian Ashbee, back from his career-threatening, mobility-threatening injury just a fortnight before Mills' arrival, was especially nonplussed with the attitude of this figure. Other senior pros despaired and objected. The injury to Mills - in training, remember - disappointed the fans who saw a performer of grit and character. Yet his premature departure from the KC to have his treatment administered by his parent club probably did as much to aid City's eventual recovery as anything Dean Windass (still at Bradford at this time) would come to do.

Fast forward roughly a year, and City are playing Charlton Athletic at the KC Stadium. Parkinson was back as assistant manager to Alan Pardew, but so was Mills, signed on loan again from Manchester City, this time by the club where he had truly established himself as a top flight player a decade or so earlier.

The 90 minutes were ugly, brutish, infantile and riddled with gamesmanship, arguments and spoiling tactics. Ashbee and Mills were picking at each other, mainly verbally, all evening. Well, not quite all evening, as Ashbee took delivery of a red card after a a knee-high challenge on Lloyd Sam, followed by a horizontal scuffle with the same player. Numerous others then joined in, either as mediators, protectors or manipulators. Sam's retaliation earned him instant red. The referee then gave Ashbee a long lecture but it appeared that the Tigers skipper had earned a yellow-coloured reprieve - until Mills walked over, opened his mouth and then withdrew. Ashbee was sent from the field, exchanging insults with the Charlton bench as he disappeared down the tunnel.

The return fixture at the Valley was just before Christmas and it was here that Mills finally succumbed to his own self-importance. His lip and his conduct seemed to frustrate the home fans as much as it infuriated the Tiger Nation, and his comeuppance came when a display of cynicism, petulance and general juvenility was crowned by a piece of play-acting which, when spotted and admonished by the referee, was followed by a barbed comment. Although he'd been booked, the red card was a straight one. And a joyous one too. One suspects that Ashbee, and numerous other players, felt a spot of redemption that afternoon, even though City couldn't gain revenge for the 2-1 defeat at the KC, drawing the match 1-1.

Mills, notably, didn't play for Charlton again. The loan was terminated and he went to Derby County. Perhaps introducing a destructive personality into a dressing room already devoid of life and confidence wasn't the wisest move made by Paul Jewell in that woebegone season for the Rams. Poetically, Mills lasted just three games - two of which were Premier League matches ending in the inevitable defeat - before an injury ended his season and sent him back, again, to Manchester City.

Mills hasn't played a competitive game of football for any club since January and even the mega-rich new owners of Manchester City must regard his large wage packet as rather profligate. All fans who have suffered through this cretinous, nasty, lordly, supercilious character have an image of him sitting in his luxurious Harrogate property telling himself that he is right and everyone else is wrong. It's gratifying and fitting that when Manchester City come to the KC Stadium for a Premier League game this weekend, the name of Danny Mills will be as far, far away from the teamsheet as possible.