🍞 The Sourdough Diaries, by Steven Naismith

Since I was sacked as Hearts manager I've decided to say yes to everything: including shifts at a local bakery

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By Steven Naismith

Sunday, September 22, 2024. I woke up that morning – the day after my Hearts team had lost to St Mirren – and watched the game back. We were actually playing St Mirren again in a bounce game at the training ground on the Monday, so I started to go through what I wanted to show in the team meeting, and to work out the team we were going to put out.

Phone call. The Hearts chief executive. You have been relieved of your duties.

Before that call, my mind was at 100mph and my calendar was full – then everything was just wiped off my desk. One moment I had everything to do, then I had nothing to do. For the first time since I was 15 years old, I wasn’t employed in professional football.

After that phone call, I just sat for 20 minutes, taking it in. Then I went through to the office, picked up all my stuff, and headed home.

That afternoon I thought, “What am I going to do now?” It was winter, so there was no golf. I thought, “I like cooking.” In Ayrshire, where I live, there’s a place with a brilliant reputation called Lesley’s Kitchen, and they run courses. I made a booking and said to my wife, “Right, we’re going on a sourdough bread-making class for the day.” And that was the start of it…

The class was from 9am until 3.30pm. There were only three students: another woman, myself and my wife, with Lesley in her kitchen in a lovely, converted church. It was intense. You’d arrive home buzzing, thinking, “I can’t remember any of that.” But over the course, you would pick things up: you’ve got your sourdough starter, and you’ve got to maintain it daily – it’s all about having a structure.

Over the next few months, I made bread regularly, wasting loads of flour, feeding the starter and making loads of mistakes. But I loved it.

My wife’s friend’s brother, Ian, owns Big Bear Bakery in Glasgow. I asked if I could get his number because I needed to pick his brain on all things sourdough. I sent him a video of what I was doing. “What does this mean? Why is it like that?”

Ian was buzzing that somebody was interested. He came over and spent three-and-a-half hours with me, showing me different things. Then he invited me to his bakery. So, I visited.

The part of the process that requires the whole team is when you’re balling up and shaping your dough. That takes from 9am until 1pm. I got to see it all happen. Then is the part when you’re folding the dough and making it into a loaf that will sit in a basket to be baked. The team gave me so many pointers. The difference in the quality of bread I produced after that shift was unbelievable. I still pop into the bakery now and then.

Fresh from the oven: A Naisy sourdough special

I’ve always tried to find new hobbies away from football. The first thing was reading. At school, I hated reading. I’m dyslexic and I’d panic in English class whenever the teacher asked me to read a paragraph. I’d be stuttering, and she’d be correcting every word. Then there would be a snigger from the back of the class. Brutal. But when I moved to Rangers – and then later at Everton and Norwich – one of the things that I found relaxed me was sitting reading a book with a coffee.

That was the first time I properly focused on a challenge. I thought, “Right, I really enjoy this – I’m going to get better at it.”

When I moved to Norwich, my wife was pregnant with our second child, so we decided that she’d stay in Scotland and I’d be based in Norwich. Therefore I had loads of free time, and I started to get into coffee. There’s a place called Stranger’s Coffee in Norwich – a young guy had started a roastery with a coffee shop. I got pally with him and one day I asked, ‘Do you do barista lessons?’ He did, so I started going in on a Monday after they had shut for the day. I’d train, then go into the city centre for 6pm, learn about coffee for two hours, then go home and watch Monday Night Football. That was my Mondays for the six-month period that I was in Norwich alone.

I bought a small machine and a second-hand grinder. Then, by the summer I was back in Scotland. I was at a Glasgow coffee festival, and a guy recognised me. He worked for La Marzocco, who make top-of-the-range coffee machines. I told him about my interest in coffee and how I loved La Marzocco. It’s the best machine you can have at home – small businesses have them. We ended up doing a deal, and I was all-in by that point.

In my house, I’ve got a cupboard that looks like a miniature coffee shop. I’ve got my sink and knock box built into the counter. I know a good coffee from a bad coffee, and I’d travel up to half an hour for a good one. The industry has boomed over the last ten years, and more and more footballers are into it. When I went to Hearts, John Souttar got into it and he’s now got a roastery company with cafes.

Magic Coffee Cupboard: Naismith has taken his passion for coffee home with him

I always had a reason not to try new things because of football. So, after I was sacked, I thought, “I’m just going to say yes to everything.”

At this point in my life, I don’t know where I want to go. I’m co-presenting The Warm-up with Gordon Duncan and really enjoying it. I’ve got a wealth of knowledge and I loved the intensity of management, so I might return to it. The biggest sense of achievement I got as a coach was developing players. Seeing someone like James Wilson – who I worked with at Hearts – in the Scotland team is fulfilling, and I love teaching players something on the training pitch that six months later has become second nature to them. I think that comes from the fact that I wasn’t the best player at academy level but worked harder than everyone else, and was a sponge for information, asking hundreds of questions. In turn, that maybe comes from the dyslexia – breaking things down and asking why something worked or did not work, and how I could do things better.

That approach worked for me in football – and it’s improving my sourdough loaves!