Full Time by Paul Kimmage

Author:Paul Kimmage [Kimmage, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK

Chapter Ten

Scent of a Winner

Look at the Irish. They sing and none of them know the words. Jack sings, and all he knows is ‘Blaydon Races’ and ‘Cushy Butterfield.’ But look at the pride they have in those green shirts.

– Lawrie McMenemy

The logic of worldly success rests on a fallacy: the strange error that our perfection depends on the thoughts and opinions and applause of other men! A weird life it is, indeed, to be living always in somebody else’s imagination, as if that were the only place in which one could at last become real!

– Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain

A few months before we left for Birmingham and Aston Villa, John Docherty, my manager at Millwall, called me into his office one afternoon, in foul mood. The team was struggling and he was starting to feel the strain.

‘We’re giving you a green shirt on Saturday,’ he spat.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘We’re going to send you out on Saturday in fucking green.’

‘I’m sorry, boss,’ I said. ‘I’m not with you.’

‘I watched the game last Wednesday and saw the running you did for Ireland and then you play for us on Saturday and you’re a lump of fucking shit! So we’re sending you out in green this week. I want you to play for us like you played for them.’

‘No, boss, you’re wrong,’ I argued. ‘The shirt has nothing to do with it.’

But later, when I gave it some thought, I had to concede that he was right: all my best performances that season had been for Ireland. But was that really so unusual? I mean, what was Docherty’s problem? Wasn’t it the most natural thing in the world to raise your game for your country? Except that Ireland wasn’t my country. I wasn’t Irish, as I’ll explain later. It wasn’t patriotism. I wasn’t doing it for the flag. Was there something about Jack Charlton that was bringing out the best in me?

My relationship with Jack got off to a shaky start, that summer in ’88. By shadow boxing with Kevin Sheedy (Jack had a thing about him) in my first training session, I hadn’t exactly taken the express route to his heart. However my goal against Poland soon redressed the balance and I was delighted to secure the last remaining place in the squad for the European Championships in Germany. We prepared for the finals at a training camp in Dublin and though I wasn’t centrally involved, I used my time on the periphery of the team to observe the manager and how he worked. The key to a harmonious relationship with Jack, I quickly learned, was to understand a few basic principles. Well, actually, there was just one basic principle. The manager’s instructions weren’t open to interpretation. The dressing room wasn’t a forum for debate. Jack never pretended he was running a democracy. When he said, ‘Jump,’ you asked, ‘How high?’

I remember a World Cup qualifying game against Spain once, when he ordered John Sheridan, who was

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.