Rooting for the Irish Blades... a ‘second team’ cut from green cloth

WATCHING Billy Sharp joyously launch himself into the knot of Sheffield United supporters after his late equaliser on Saturday was a reminder why football folk love football. Sharp is 33 and a Blade to the hilt. He couldn’t have a better name as a son of the Steel City, and it was fitting he should score the first goal of United’s first season back in the Premier League since 2007. The travelling support went berserk at Bournemouth and, as I warmed to them, it got me thinking about how many Sheffield United fans I knew. I was stumped. I ticked off Sheffield Wednesday immediately through Kieran Rooney, a former colleague in Independent Newspapers, an Owl devotee for whom the 1966 FA Cup final loss to Everton still needles. Other comrades in the Fourth Estate follow such diverse clubs as Bristol Rovers, Coventry City, Birmingham City, QPR and Wolves. Another supports his hometown club, Hartlepool, which hasn’t been easy of late. For some, Saturdays at 4.55pm have been a time of torment, rather than a thrill, yet they have never faltered in their loyalty. Many friends of a certain vintage are Leeds United lifers since the Don Revie days, although one I know has jumped ship to Arsenal, an act of treason in anyone’s book. Your team chooses you, irrespective of league or land, and you don’t desert it, whether they are champs or chumps. Standing by the blue side of Manchester 20 years ago in the old Third Division (now League One) was a challenge when City lost to the might of Lincoln, Wycombe and York City inside eight weeks, but it’s what you do. Along the half century of highs, lows and now highs with City, there has always been time to root for another team. Because my late father worked in RTÉ, I looked out for the Montrose result from the lower reaches of Scottish football on Saturdays — the news was invariably grim. Later, when John Aldridge was flying as playermanager at Tranmere in the mid-90s, tiny ‘Tranny’ became second to City in my affections for a spell. More recently, I checked on Alloa’s results because of their rookie Irish manager Jim Goodwin, a wonderful character who sold chocolate bars in his day job as a rep for Cadbury’s. Goodwin’s feat in leading the little club to the Scottish Championship didn’t go unnoticed and he is now ‘gaffer’ at St Mirren in the SPL. A shadowy allegiance to a second team was often explained by the presence of a cluster of Irish internationals. In the 1970s, Arsenal were backboned by Dave (never David) O’Leary, Liam Brady and Frank Stapleton. In the 80s Liverpool leaned on Mark Lawrenson, Ronnie Whelan and Jim Beglin, while Aston Villa went one better in the early 90s with four Irish musketeers, Paul McGrath, Ray Houghton, Andy Townsend and Steve Staunton. Not all that long ago, Preston’s ranks were stuffed with Irishmen, but today that ‘honour’ goes to Sheffield United. At Bournemouth on Saturday, Ireland internationals John Egan, Enda Stevens (above), Callum Robinson and David McGoldrick all started, eager to seize their moment in the world’s highest profile league. Staying up will require a huge collective effort but I will be in their corner — except when they play City.