MICK MCCARTHY
Mick Mccarthy knows he’ll be standing down as Republic of Ireland boss after Euro 2020 – but first he’s got to get them there. We sit down with the straight- talking Yorkshireman
Let’s play a game about perception.
The manager is wearing a lustrous blue suit, crisp white shirt and brown suede brogues. His hair is swept back and he is tanned. The brow is slightly furrowed: he has spent the morning with his analyst, poring over videos of his team’s next opponents. And he wears a confident smile. Later on, he will talk with relish about management and how, as if it really isn’t that hard, it’s all about showing love and empathy to his players.
Back when he was a player, this manager wanted to broaden his horizons; experience a new culture and learn a new language. He wanted his children to be bilingual. How did players approach their profession there? How did coaches work? And how could all of this help him to be the best coach he could be?
But this is not a member of the modern managerial cult; no disciple of Marcelo Bielsa, nor Pep Guardiola. This is Mick Mccarthy.
‘ Football people’ – that is, those who know the man who has largely succeeded across a 28- year career – are not surprised. But to fans who shout from bucket seats or scream at their smartphone every week, Mccarthy is a dour, old- fashioned coach whose methods are out of step with a modern game insistent on divide and rule. The Barnsley- born former centre- half is an easy target for those who indulge in convenient, lazy football narrative. The sport is more nuanced than that.
And so too is Mccarthy. He wouldn’t have lasted five minutes if he was the inflexible, no- nonsense Northerner that many portray him as being. He’s approaching 1,000 games as a manager – 78 of them spent across two spells with the Republic of Ireland – and very few coaches are in that esteemed bracket.
The 61- year- old is a pragmatist; a gaffer who will examine what he and his opposite number have at their disposal, then set up his team accordingly. That could be Wolves playing with two flying wingers during their Championship- winning season of 2008- 09, before reverting to a safety- first approach in the top tier when matches became tougher. Or it could be today with the Irish national team, as he prepares the Boys in Green for their nail- biting Euro 2020 play- off.
In their team’s quest for qualification, Irish supporters have seen Mccarthy switch from a side ceding the lion’s share of possession against Georgia to a swashbuckling outfit which passed from the back and overlapped against Denmark in their final, fruitless bid to qualify automatically in Dublin.
But they get to go again, and the Republic of Ireland’s win- at- all- costs play- off clash in Slovakia is all our taxi driver talks about as he transports FFT to the FAI’S headquarters, which happen to be a former government laboratory for testing on animals.
There’s a buzz about the capital, and why not? Conquer Slovakia and either Northern Ireland or Bosnia- Herzegovina will await in a final to decide who progresses into Group E with Spain, Poland and Sweden. Two home games in Dublin, and the rich benefits they afford, are tantalisingly close for Mccarthy.
“IF I WENT TO A GARAGE AND TOLD THE MECHANIC WHA T TO DO, HE’D ASK IF I HAD ANY QUALIFICA TIONS. BUT SPORT IS DIFFERENT”
Suave and suited, ‘ Big Mick’ flashes a warm smile when we meet inside the analysis suite. A giant screen shows a freeze- frame of one of Slovakia’s recent games. The Irish analyst, Ger Dunne, is tapping away at a laptop. “You carry on, don’t mind us,” says Mccarthy.
That surge of post- Denmark optimism – despite the 1- 1 draw denying the Republic of Ireland a fast route into the 2020 European Championship – seems like an easy opener. But it brings Mccarthy straight onto this idea of perception.
“All the matches that we’ve played, we’ve gradually got better,” he says. “We’ve lost one in 10. If you analyse it and try to explain it in the context of 10 games at a club, I’d like to think that everyone would notice an improvement. We’re getting better. In club football, we’d have picked up 19 points. Over the course of a season in the Championship, that’s 87 points. The Denmark match was good, and the players will be expectant. So, yes, we’re excited.”
Mccarthy rarely sees his players, though. Most of his squad will arrive on the Sunday before facing Slovakia, and those playing for their clubs that day will arrive another day later. Matchday is Thursday.
“The routine is strange – mostly scouting players,” says Mccarthy. “I was at Wycombe recently to watch Connor Ronan, as he’d just gone to Blackpool. But it was kind of bizarre because the Slovakia game was two months off. Ronan Curtis [ of Portsmouth] is scoring goals for fun now but could get injured in March. I hope he’s not. [ David] Mcgoldrick at Sheffield United is injured but he could be ripping it up; Shane Duffy’s not playing but could be back. Whatever they’re doing at the moment is kind of irrelevant for this game.”
With so little coaching time available, is he cut some slack by the fans?
“Am I heck!” he says, laughing as he rocks back in his chair. “There’s never any patience
“SHOUTING OBSCENITIES IN THE DRESSING ROOM ON MATCHDAY? THAT’S NOT GOOD MOTIVATION”
in football. You need to get results – that’s the end game. If you’ve gone into a job and it’s in disarray, selling players and bringing in bargains, then you get grace from the owner or chairman if that’s your remit. You’ve been told, ‘ Nothing to spend; this is the team, can’t do anything with it’. What’s your job? Keep them in the division? You might get a bit of patience from that angle, but otherwise you need to win football games. I’ve never been to a club where we’ve been losing matches and that’s all right.
“People underestimate us as coaches and managers. If you’re working in the financial markets, most have gone through a set of exams and a way of getting there. I’ve done all of the coaching courses, got my badges and I’m qualified. Lots of people fail that. If I go to a garage and the mechanic is under the bonnet of my car and I start telling him what he’s doing, he’d probably ask if I had any qualifications. But sport is different.”
Instead, analysis of the opposition takes on a double meaning. It is hugely important, trying to find that chink to expose, but it also helps to kill the time between games. He will know Slovakia inside- out.
“He will,” says Mccarthy, thumbing towards a smirking Dunne. “I will know exactly what I need to know: how they play, what they do and how they do it. Myself and TC [ long- time assistant Terry Connor] will have a look at it, as I always want him alongside me. All of our preparation will be done.
“I suppose you could look for too long and get a bit bogged down, but I don’t think we do. You keep coming back to see if anything has been missed; having a look at corners and saying, ‘ Can we do this?’ That’s just part of the process.”
Mccarthy has a glint in his eye and a story to tell. It’s about people’s impressions again, from the outside looking in.
“I’m going to tell you this because we’ve been having a good look at Slovakia and one of their players,” he starts. “It reminded me about Jack Charlton. At the 1990 World Cup, I was Big Jack’s captain. He was a far better coach than most people gave him credit for, because we would put teams under pressure – ‘ the press’, as they put on now. We were doing that in 1990 and teams hated playing us. We played in their half of the pitch. We got branded a direct team, but he was much better than that.
“He’d give you one nugget for every game. I remember Euro 88 against England – I was up against [ Peter] Beardsley. He said as soon as he gets the ball, run at him, divert him, do anything to stop him getting a head of steam – because as soon as he gets going, he’ll be in the 18- yard box and he’ll find a pass, get a shot in or win a penalty. It worked a treat. There was no big intellectual discussion. No kicking him off the pitch. Just make him go somewhere else.
“Jack always gave you something, even if it was written on the back of a fag packet. He was far cleverer than he was perceived to be. He worked out how European teams didn’t want us to play against them: ‘ Turn ’ em and make ’ em face their own goal – they won’t just kick it out because they think they’re all good players. They’ll try to pass it, but we’ll nick it and get at ’ em.’
“He transformed us from a team with good players into qualifying for major tournaments in 1988, ’ 90 and ’ 94 – still with good players, but ones who also understood the tactical approach. Like it or lump it was his approach: if you didn’t do it... ooof. He once took Liam Brady off at half- time for a game in Dublin and sent Andy Townsend on instead. It takes some gonads to do that.”
“IPSWICH JUST GOT BORED OF ME . TOO PRAGMATIC. IT HAPPENS”
In the past, Mccarthy has been irked by how he is perceived. He railed against the idea of ‘ football intelligence’ and the suggestion that managers like him – the grafters of decades’ standing – didn’t have as much of it as some so- called big- club managers.
Instead, he championed the idea that nous is figuring out how to play to your players’ strengths, making them gel as a group and treating them like human beings; the sort of smarts that won Championship titles for Sunderland in 2005 and Wolves in 2009, and which guided the Republic of Ireland to the last 16 of the 2002 World Cup while having to contend with Roy Keane’s explosion act.
Mccarthy’s playing spell at Lyon in 1989- 90 taught him the importance of players feeling that they’re part of a group. When he made his debut against a fine Marseille side that went on to win Ligue 1, Lyon were 3- 0 down after 14 minutes and L’equipe later called it “le debut catastrophique”. Mccarthy said he recognised the journalist of that report years later in an airport and quoted the headline at the scribe, adding: “You were right, though, you were right.”
“I felt a bit isolated there,” he admits now. “I just couldn’t get a game. Bruno N’gotty and Remi Garde were playing every week, and I was injured. I’m not stupid – I wasn’t shifting them. I was putting wallpaper up in our rented house and the Millwall chairman called to see if I would come on loan.”
In 1992, Mccarthy became the Londoners’ player- manager, before leaving to take over from Charlton as Republic of Ireland boss in February 1996. Big Jack was a big influence. There were also negative aspects, and they ultimately proved positive in the long run. After experiencing them, Mccarthy wanted to be a considered and thoughtful manager.
“I remember the boss screaming and we were all hanging our heads,” he tells FFT.
“If you were to look in, you’d think, ‘ They’re hanging their heads in shame’. We weren’t – we just didn’t want to catch his eye. We were thinking, ‘ Ah, shut up, will you, and get me out of this dressing room’. It was never constructive – ‘ You’re a f** king…’ You’d hear it all the time from other players as you went down the tunnel: ‘ I bet the dressing room walls were blistered.’
“You’ve got 10 minutes to get your points across at half- time to change a game. Maybe twice a season I’ll have a rant, but you can’t do that every week. Every day I’m shaking the players’ hands, asking how their families are, how they think they played on Saturday. That’s good motivation – having an interest in them, then putting on good sessions; ones they understand and enjoy. You make sure they like coming into the training ground. Standing in the dressing room, five minutes before kick- off, shouting obscenities? That’s not good motivation.”
Mccarthy believes that marginalisation of the ranting manager is one of the biggest changes in the modern game. Whether the supporters have caught up is another matter, though. It’s a less than positive segué into our next topic.
At Ipswich, he was arguably a victim of his own success. It was in November 2012 that Mccarthy took charge of a club destined for League One, the Suffolk outfit winless in 11 league games. Mccarthy performed a rescue act, then built a promotion- challenging side on the proverbial shoestring amid financial acrimony and players being asked to take 60 per cent pay cuts. The following season the Tractor Boys finished 9th, before coming 6th in 2014- 15 and securing a first play- off finish for 10 years.
“They just got bored of me,” says Mccarthy blithely. “Too pragmatic. It happens.”
“STRANGELY ENOUGH, KNOWING THAT I’M LEAVING AFTER THIS IS REFRESHING AND ENERGISING”
Certainly, the second half of his tenure at Portman Road was not as successful. When Championship finishes of 7th and 16th soon followed, a “small section” of fans turned on him. A once- exciting relationship between supporters and manager became bitter and loveless, and Mccarthy rejected the chance of a new contract as protests became ever more unpleasant. He recalls: “I said to Marcus [ Evans, Ipswich’s owner], ‘ What do you want me for, with all this going on?’”
Mccarthy said he would resign at the end of the 2017- 18 season, upon the expiration of his contract. But he departed earlier, after fans threatened to attack him with bottles after a 1- 0 defeat at Brentford.
“I wanted to go out and talk to them,” he tells FFT. “But the policewoman said, ‘ Others might get hurt’, so I went out the back door.”
His last match, four before the end of the season, was a 1- 0 home win over Barnsley. The following season, Ipswich went down having finished bottom of the Championship. Mccarthy admits, however, that he didn’t take any pleasure from it.
“Not for the majority of fans,” he says, “or the people who work there, all of whom were brilliant. It was a great, happy place. They all suffered because of relegation, so I felt sorry for them and for the good fans.”
Whatever happens in Ireland’s Euro 2020 campaign from here, Mccarthy will leave his role after the tournament. He has known that since agreeing to take the job last November and has guided his successor, the under- 21 coach, Stephen Kenny. It seems apt that the revolving door at FAI headquarters is out of order when we visit.
In the summer, Mccarthy will be looking for another job. He already knows that it won’t be one of the big ones.
“Maybe it’s because I didn’t play with those types of players,” he says. “But I’ve got more qualifications than some of those coaches [ in the Premier League]. I’m never going to get them, and it doesn’t frustrate me at all. I’ve had a great career – I’ve really enjoyed it. All my work has been done within the top 30 teams in England, when you look at it. I’ve done well in the Championship – I know that league – and I want to do 1,000 games as a manager [ he is currently on 977] and then keep going.
“Strangely enough, knowing I go after this is refreshing and energising. But for now, first and foremost, my thoughts are on Slovakia.” Mccarthy and fans alike will hope they aren’t his last as Republic of Ireland’s manager.