AGAINST THE ODDS:THERE WERE always newspapers scattered about the canteen in Clontarf Bus depot; mostly of the red-top variety, mostly left open on the sports pages.
Over the years, Vinny Fitzpatrick spent countless breaks in the “canner” flicking through the news of the day over a cup of char and a chat with whoever was passing through.
At noon on Tuesday morning, the place was heaving with drivers winding down from the early shift and others arriving for the afternoon stint behind the wheel. As always, it was a melting pot of gossip, agendas and intrigue.
As he pulled up a chair, armed with a mug of tea and two slices of toast smothered in butter, Vinny was greeted warmly, even though he was no longer a card-carrying member of the “road gang”. The canteen had never been a seat of great political debate.
There was never a deep discourse on the crippled economy, the HSE shambles or the utter crassness of Bertie in the cupboard.
And on this Tuesday, the talk revolved around a subject close to all drivers’ hearts: sport. The Liverpool shambles was getting an airing, which was not surprising as the team was the best supported in the garage by miles.
For some reason, which he couldn’t fathom, there were very few declared Manchester United fans among the lads, although Vinny suspected that Socket Twomey, the depot controller, was a closet Red Devil.
Tommo Mahon and Spider O’Leary, two manic Liverpool heads, were holding court. Between them, they ripped into Tom Hicks and George Gillett and how their only motivation for buying Liverpool was to make a fast buck.
“They have no sense of what Liverpool represents to the community of the city. It was always a club of the people. Now, it’s a just a plaything for corporate fat cats who don’t even know the words of You’ll Never Walk Alone,” hissed Tommo.
Spider, who wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, smacked his mug on the table, spilling its contents, and wailed: “It’s time to get rid of those damned Yanks and let someone in who can do a proper job.” That the proposed saviour of Liverpool was yet another American looking to cash in was conveniently overlooked by Spider, noted Vinny as he sipped his tea quietly.
As an Everton fan, Vinny was largely ambivalent to Liverpool’s plight. The only time they got under his flabby skin was on derby days. Then he’d dig out his old Everton top, with its Hafnia logo, and hold court in Foley’s, where he’d roar and urge his beloved Blues on.
As the debate raged Vinny flicked through the paper where an item caught his eye: Robbie Keane was about to lead Ireland for the 40th time against Slovakia, equalling the record of Andy Townsend.
Vinny put down his cup slowly and considered the implications of Keane’s achievement. Charlie Hurley, his first great Irish hero, won 40 caps in his entire career and here was Keane, an inferior player in his view, winning 40 as captain alone.
Much was made of the influence of a captain in soccer, perhaps too much. Unlike the cricket captains who direct operations in the field like an army general, or magnificent Monty in the Ryder Cup, the soccer skipper had less sway on the outcome of the event. He didn’t make any tactical plays during the game, or call the substitutions, he just did his own business. Even so, being Irish captain had a sense of considerable worth and this was where Robbie Keane was a worry.
In Vinny’s mind, a captain commanded respect and led by example. Keane did neither. He ran around, wagging fingers at referees who didn’t agree with him and he was also a diver, despite what anyone said.
Vinny had watched Keane in close-up against Russia the previous Friday at the Aviva Stadium where he’d cut an incongruous figure in among the Russian fans and the statuesque Lithuanian Petra, from Fran’s launderette. (Escaping her amorous clutches had proved tricky but he’d come through unscathed, unlike Ireland who should have lost 6-1.) Between gulps of Vilnius firewater, Vinny had been appalled by Keane’s constant nagging at officials, his Swan Lake impression. He was a good player, a fine goal scorer, but not a great captain.
Vinny thought back to legendary leaders in green, men like Hurley, Giles, Grealish, McCarthy, Roy Keane, all players of authority, all a rallying point in tough times, an inspiration to others. Was Robbie of that breed? Not in a million years, felt Vinny. He called the pre-match huddle, posed for a snap and went up for the toss. That was about it.
If Vinny was calling the shots, he’d have made Richard Dunne captain years ago.
There was a player who sweated everything for the cause, who lifted those around him, who led by example not by finger pointing and hand-waving. To Vinny, Richard was a lionheart in every sense.
It was time to lob in a grenade and spike the guns of the Liverpool debate. “Lads, who’s been the best Irish captain ever? As I have a few years on most of you, we’ll make the cut-off point Euro ’88?” The leaving of Liverpool was welcome by the non Kop crew around the table and Goggles Gorman was the first to put his cards on the table. “Mick McCarthy, by miles,” he said.
“In the World Cup in Italy, he was outstanding and represented everything you wanted in a captain. He was brave and he gave the lads a rollicking when it was needed. He was Big Jack’s enforcer on the park at a time when we were a top-10 team in the world,” said Goggles, who didn’t wear glasses but spent all his spare hours in the swimming pool.
Big Dave was next. “Keano had no equals and should have captained Ireland more. He would have too had McCarthy handled him better. Remember that tackle which nearly knocked Overmars over the East Stand? For 20 minutes, the crossfire on the merits of Irish captains continued in the canteen. Frank Stapleton, pointed out Spider, had led Ireland to Euro ’88 and did an outstanding job. “He was captain 30 times, the same as Giles. He has to be a candidate for being the best.”
Tommo felt the quiet leadership of Kenny Cunningham was never fully appreciated and made a case that Ray Houghton should have got the honour far more than once. “Razor was our best player in the three major finals we got to. He lifted teams up with his energy. Don’t forget, he almost got us to the finals in ’98 as well,” he said.
Vinny lobbed in Kevin Moran, whose finest hour as captain was at Wembley in 1991. “Moran was a players’ player. He had his head wrapped up in bandages against England that night and still put Gary Lineker in his pocket,” he said.
Curiously, the two players who hardly got a look-in were the ones who topped the list, Townsend and Keane. Between them, they had led Ireland 80 times, yet neither, it seemed, had left their imprint on the sporting conscience of the lads in Clontarf bus garage. It was a thought that Vinny found slightly disturbing as he pushed back his chair and returned to work.
Bets of the week
1pteach-way Alvaro Quiros in Portuguese Masters (16/1, Paddy Power)
3ptsNewcastle to beat Wigan in Premier League (10/11, general)
Vinny’s Bismarck
2ptsLay Leinster to top Heineken Cup group (6/4, Boylesports, liability 3pts)
