THE MORE we hear about Giovanni Trapattoni, the more interesting his tenure as Irish soccer manager promises to be. His enthusiasm is infectious. His personal stretching routine is highly impressive. And now comes the exciting news that he believes football players can improve their skills by listening to Mozart, which he regrets so few of them do, writes Frank McNally
In Salzburg for the European Championships, he told the newspaper Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung that Mozart was a "god" whose work had inspired him both as player and manager. The music taught lessons about "tempo, rhythm, build-up" and also about the "logic" needed to read a match, he said. Unfortunately, modern footballers thought they lived "exclusively on the playing field" and did not see how their game could profit from exposure to cultural activity.
I wonder if the FAI knew what it was letting itself in for when it turned to Italy for a manager. Certainly I don't remember the three-man interview panel mentioning Mozart. Not that the idea of Irish soccer teams using music - per se - as a motivational tool is entirely new.
Jack Charlton reportedly played rebel songs such as Sean South from Garryowen on the team bus. But the only logic apparent in that arrangement was that, on a nervous night in Belfast in 1993, the many English-born players in the Republic's squad may have had some clue as to why the home supporters were calling them "Fenian bastards". In any case, it's a steep progression from there to Mozart, whatever Wolfe Tones fans might think.
When I first heard of his passion for the composer, I thought it must the operas Trapattoni had in mind. He is Italian, after all, and was a friend of Pavarotti. Surely the key to understanding how Mozart inspired him was - what else? - Don Giovanni. This is the masterpiece that, according to critics, occupies an unusual place in the operatic canon, poised as it is - like many recent performances by the Irish soccer team - somewhere between comedy and drama.
Then I looked up the plot synopsis and discovered that Don Giovanni - Mozart's version of Don Juan - is a dissolute nobleman and serial seducer of women, who kills the father of one his attempted conquests but faces retribution when the victim's statue comes alive in the cemetery, visits his house for dinner, and drags the unrepentant Lothario straight to hell.
So, all things considered, it was a relief to find that Trapattoni seems to place more emphasis on Mozart's symphonic work. Which makes sense of something that I've often wondered about classical music: its obsession with pacing. No matter how complex or beautiful a piece of symphonic music is, the titles given to its component parts usually relate only to the speed at which each is to be played. This has always seemed to me a rather crude approach.
Now, at least, I can see where Trapattoni is headed. When his system is fully in place, Ireland games will begin with a slow movement — the "adagio". This will be followed by a higher-paced "allegro ma non troppo", during which we will probe the opposition's weaknesses, without over-committing. Then perhaps there will be a short-lived "prestissimo", during which we cause chaos in the opposition penalty box and grab the crucial goal. Then, finally, another slow movement, as we close out the game, running the ball into corners, requiring medical treatment, etc.
No doubt there will be turbulent moments during the transitional period, however. And already I'm looking forward to the post-match interviews. George Hamilton: "So, Richard, 2-0 down to the Germans at half-time, and you come back to win 3-2. What was said in the dressing room to turn things round so dramatically?" Richard Dunne: "Nothing, really. The gaffer just played one of his Mozart CDs again - symphony no 38 in D Major, I think it was." Hamilton: "Ah yes, the so-called 'Prague'?" Dunne: "That's the one. He said it contained the key to unlocking the German defence. Apart from that, he just told Damien Duff he needed to be 'molto allegro' when taking on the full-back."
Hamilton: "But - and excuse me while I don my part-time Lyric FM presenter's hat here - the Prague Symphony is 25 minutes long." Dunne: "Yeah, the ref was bangin' the door down by the end of it, tellin' us to get back on the pitch. I believe there'll be a fine." Hamilton: "Of course, on the plus side, it meant you missed that freak 10-minute snow blizzard that the Germans had to stand through?" Dunne: "Yeah. That would explain how they defended in the second half, all right."
Being a football manager is like being a conductor, Trapattoni told the Frankfurter. The big difference was that, in an orchestra, "the second fiddle doesn't demand to play first fiddle just before a concert". This at least is one problem he will not face much of here. But leaving aside the Republic's shortage of first-rank violin players, fans must not expect a fully orchestrated work from the squad too soon.
After the goal we conceded against Serbia, when the offside trap misfired badly, the immediate requirement is for a string quartet - a tightly strung one - at the back. Once that's sorted, we can get on with Trapattoni the conductor's stated aim of having players pass the ball, rather than just punting it forward, like we used to. Mozart will be a big help here, having been one of the great contrapuntalists, as we all know.
fmcnally@irish-times.ie