Space, but no room for compromise. He's had difficulties but few regrets and, as Justin Fashanu tells Allan Laing, he's now a stronger man

''Phone call last week,'' I reply. ''Told you I was from The Herald and

that I wanted to arrange an interview. We settled on 3pm, Thursday . .

.''

''Oh yes,'' he says, not entirely convinced. ''And we didn't discuss

money?''

''Nope.''

''Mmm.''

''There's a problem?''

''No. No problem. It's just unlike me not to ask for money.''

Clearly an oversight on the part of a young man whose words are

precious and, it seems, sometimes expensive. He is joking. At least I

think he is joking. But Fashanu is not just a footballer. He is also a

business. As if to prove it, a slender portable telephone is ever

present by his side. Incoming calls are frequent.

''So what do you want to talk about?'' he asks in a friendly manner,

resigned to the fact that there is nothing to be gained financially from

our conversation.

Well, not football. There is more, much more, to Justin Fashanu than

hoofing a ball about a park. There is an uncommon depth to the man. And

he knows it. In terms of the game, he is atypical -- intelligent,

erudite, acutely sensitive, and disarmingly honest.

He is also gay. By his very nature, and by virtue of his occupation,

he makes people confront the mysteries of human sexuality. By publicly

embracing the truth of his own sexual ambiguity, he forces the football

fan -- the punter with prejudice -- to make a potentially uncomfortable

judgment on gender. He is the exception in a sport for Real Men,

''regular guys'' who spit and swear and get married to beauty queens.

Justin Fashanu, at 31, has had more clubs than Arnold Palmer. He is a

footballing gypsy. His track record reads like a Littlewoods' pools line

-- Norwich City, Newcastle, Sunderland, Nottingham Forest, Notts County,

Brighton, Manchester City, West Ham, Leyton Orient, Brighton. You name

it, he's been there. A couple of months ago he was playing for Torquay

United then something happened. Or perhaps something didn't happen.

Whatever the case, Fashanu packed his kit bag and headed north -- from

one extreme to the other -- and landed last month in Airdrie.

By so doing, he became just about the most surprising signing ever

made by a Scottish club.

''So what do you think of Scotland, Justin?'' you ask, somewhat

inanely.

''Scottish people are very black and white, if you will excuse the

pun,'' he replies. ''They are a very selfless people. If they like you,

then there is absolutely nothing they will not do for you. People have

gone out of their way to help me since I arrived.''

Justin Fashanu is a striker who needs space -- and not just on the

football field. He is his own master. He dictates. He determines. He

decides the ground rules. It is a confidence developed through a long

and painful process of trial and error. He has learned, not just how to

cope with the pressures of celebrity, but how to actually enjoy them.

Now he is proud and fearless, attributes which can make him appear

slightly conceited in the course of a conversation. To be fair to him,

it is probably a false impression.

''I am not a typical footballer. I am not someone who is frightened of

saying what I believe or doing what I think is right. In this, I could

not have come to a better club than Airdrie. The manager and the coach

understand exactly what I need and where I am coming from.

''The players have been absolutely superb in their approach to me when

dealing with the media circus. They've been able to cut through the crap

and looked at what I am like as a person,'' he remarks.

Fashanu demands the facility -- ''the manoeuvrability'' -- to be able

to express himself honestly. This manifests itself in various ways; in

the expensive clothes he wears, in the forceful actions he take, and in

the carefully considered things he says. Unlike many clubs he has worked

with, the Airdrie staff and players are not intimidated by him.

''You are always under pressure. I demand high standards of my

employers and they then demand high standards of me,'' he explains.

Fashanu genuinely believes that he is not constrained by the normal

parameters which restrict other people in the football business. He does

not allow fear to prevent him doing what he thinks is right.

''We can be dangerous people because we are ruled by our own

consciences and our own beliefs,'' he says.

That is why, as a Nottingham Forest player, he came out and publicly

declared his homosexuality. He did so because he felt it was right at

the time.

''The problem was that it alienated me from people who could

potentially employ me. Suddenly I was judged for what I did off the

field rather than what I did on the field. I had spent three years

getting my body and my spiritual life right and I felt it was time to

make a clean start. I am a very honest person and I didn't see the

pitfalls of my action,'' he explains.

THE newspapers thought they'd won a watch. Here was a football player

who, not only was black and outspoken, but was also gay. What

self-respecting tabloid editor could ask for anything more? Just a shame

he didn't have a drink problem or cry like a baby in an England jersey.

Nevertheless, the experience, according to Fashanu, has made him ''a

very powerful person''.

''No one can get at me now. No one can hold me to ransom. I no longer

have to compromise myself. I have no fear of saying what I think. No

fear for my job, my reputation, or my standing,'' he says.

Fashanu argues strongly that being gay does not place a question mark

over a man's masculinity. Certainly there is nothing wimpish or

effeminate about him.

He asks: ''Does masculinity mean making love to several women a night

and drinking 15 pints of beer? Or does it mean standing up and being

true to what you are? Some of the roughest, toughest men in history had

a sensitive and gentle side. You have to make people reconsider their

views on what makes a man a man. And it is important that you do so from

a position of strength rather than from a position of dishonesty.''

Justin Fashanu's sexual honesty has, at times, made him a target for

the more prurient sections of the popular press. It is something with

which he has learned to live. ''I am a little brighter than when I first

started out. I have learned not to hang myself out to dry as much as I

used to. You become more intuitive, you become wiser, and the thing you

don't do is allow the press to manipulate you.

''You dictate a lot more what you do and don't do; what you say and

don't say. Personalities sometimes allow the press to become their

'friends' and they lull you into a false sense of security.

''The secret is not to take yourself too seriously. If a football

player believes what is written about him, then he can suddenly take

himself too seriously. And he forgets where he has come from, gets

caught up in the media hype and a sense of his own importance. He

becomes not such a nice person. And when you start to lose the ability

to be nice and genuine to people you are on that slippery slope. Because

then you have to work so hard to keep being loved by the press,'' he

explains.

Fashanu is a busy man. The phone rings again. He is anxious to find a

temporary home in Scotland which is not a hotel. So I decide that I have

taken up enough of his valuable time and I leave him to it. After all,

as he so subtly pointed out, we are not paying him. But he was joking,

wasn't he?