BY IRISH ‘ICON’

IF Martin O’Neill was seeking a positive vibe on his first day of work as Republic of Ireland manager, the setting of the Stratocaster Suite in Dublin’s Gibson Hotel for his grand unveiling on Saturday provided it.

For it was there, 13 months ago, that a steely- eyed Jim Gavin plucked the heart strings of Dublin’s football legions as began his managerial watch. Should O’Neill’s flight path follow the Gavin jet- stream, Irish football will be up, up and away once again.

When told of the Gavin link, O’Neill nodded approvingly before dipping into his own All-Ireland archives, of going to the 1958 final as a kid with brothers Leo and Gerry; of 77 when Gerry co-managed Armagh; of 2011 when Kerry, he felt, threw an All-Ireland away, against the Dubs.

Of his ’77 Croker trip, O’Neill recalled scoring for Nottingham Forest in a win at Leicester the day before and how Brian Clough gave him generous time off. Improbably, Forest again won at Leicester on Saturday.

O’Neill’s nuggets lightened up a lengthy afternoon of engagements which began in rather starched, poppy-free tones and ended in an informal huddle, over tea and

It was all a far cry from Wycombe

toast, as a daily journalists gathered around O’Neill as if he was a seanachai.

He grinned at the tale of how he ended up with Eusebio’s shorts after a European Championship qualifier against Portugal in neutral Coventry and how he still treasures Clodoaldo’s jersey from t he t i me he pl ayed i n an All-Ireland XI against Brazil in Dublin 1973.

‘Clodoaldo initiated the move for Brazil’s fourth goal in the 1970 World Cup final,’ he said, eyes alight. ‘I still have that jersey, with many others, in a chest at home.’

Each anecdote unlocked a little window into the sporting soul of a complex, cerebral, character who was at his most engaging when he departed from the script about his plans and ambitions as Ireland manager — the gig will be over unless he delivers Ireland to the finals of Euro 2016.

Pleasantly unaware that Ireland were on the verge of a second seeding in the qualifiers, O’Neill joked of his number two, Roy Keane, that a little ‘ volatility’ might not be such a bad thing.

His humour was deadpan, so much so that some of his one-liners were missed, yet he could be deathly serious too, as in the case of Paolo Di Canio, his successor at Sunderland, whom he lampooned as a ‘managerial charlatan’ and filleted not only his character, but his capabilities too.

Had Di Canio been in the dock