‘I love the innocence of seeing my son play’
Humble Liam appreciated the life that football provided him
In the week building up to the 2015 Irish Daily Mail FAI Cup final between Cork City and Dundalk, The Irish Mail on Sunday was granted a rare one-on-one interview with Liam Miller. The returning local hero was coming towards the end of a gruelling season at Turner’s Cross and he would soon depart for the United States. David Sneyd spoke to him then and reflects on the poignancy of Miller’s words following his tragic passing at the age of 36 and the controversy surrounding his memorial game.
THINGS did not start well. The wind was howling and the rain scatty. Still, Liam Miller insisted on sitting on a prickly wooden bench in one of the dugouts at Cork City’s Bishopstown training ground rather than go inside where it was only marginally more comfortable.
The boy from Ballincollig had been back for the guts of a year after a few seasons in Australia’s A-League, where he lived in Perth, Brisbane and Sydney, and the bad weather seemed like an easy place to ease into conversation.
‘I’m well used to it, to be fair. It’s no big deal,’ Miller replied.
A couple of seconds of silence which felt like hours led to a second question about adapting to Friday night football rather than Saturday afternoons. ‘It’s different, but it’s just nice to be back and playing ball again,’ he replied.
Scrambling, somewhat, a fumbled follow up about whether it was strange to be back in Cork after two decades earning a living in Britain and further afield received a more generous reply than it probably deserved.
‘Not really, to be fair. We were always going to come back. A few things have changed but nothing major. You see a couple of familiar faces over time which is nice.
‘I still feel, what’s the saying? You’re only as old as you feel. I feel there’s a couple of more years left in me, definitely. Touch wood everything is alright with injury because overall I have really enjoyed this year,’ he added, before pausing briefly. ‘It’s been enjoyable to a certain point. It would have been a lot better had we won the league, of course.’
Rather than pick up on that caveat at the end and probe for more, it was the ice-pack he was clutching after the session which caught attention. Instead of placing it on the area of his body which required attention, Miller left it on the ground in front so as not to give away any injury news before the Cup final.
Always the consummate professional.
A gentle enquiry about it was politely batted away. ‘Ah, yeah. It’s fine. I carry one of these everywhere after training. You always get a kick.’
Small talk was of no interest, it was only when questions of substance were put to him that Miller seemed happy to open up. He wasn’t concerned about regaling a stranger with tales of the Celtic, Manchester United or Republic of Ireland dressing rooms he was a part of.
‘I’m very personally proud to be from Cork but at the same time you’ve got to do your stuff, you need to train hard and turn up in games. It’s nice to be back and playing for what I consider my local team.’
That provided the chance to ask about being back in a dressing room with childhood friends Colin Healy and Mark McNulty, which led to a story about the trio dyeing their hair peroxide blond for a youth cup final at Turner’s Cross in 1997.
‘Nults has been asking me about it [again]. ‘He’s keen [to do it again] but I think we’re getting too old for all that carry on. He wants us all to go the old red and green. That would certainly bring back some memories but anyways, I’m not sure.’
Miller was beginning to warm up and, thankfully, the chance to speak about his family roused something within – although he was adamant he wasn’t a pushy parent on the sidelines.
‘No, no, no. What I really enjoy is watching my little boy play. I just enjoy watching all the kids play ball, that’s quite a nice thing to see, the innocence of it all. They’re playing with a smile on their face which is how it should be. They all want to go out and be little Messis on the pitch. It’s fantastic, so let the kids play,’ he enthused.
It was that simplicity, as well as being home in Cork with his wife and three young children, which gave Miller most pleasure. Daughter Belle was five at the time and had just started primary school, while sons Kory (10) and Leo (seven) were ball boys for most matches at Turners Cross. ‘I’m doing what I love. I’ve been very fortunate,’ Miller continued.
‘There are certain games I would watch on television and there would be certain games I’d have no interest in. I think even though it is my job, I’ve sort of never labelled it like “oh, I’m doing my job”. I’ve never labelled it like that in my life. I’m fortunate that I’m doing something that I absolutely love, that I wouldn’t change for the world, and I just enjoy when my little fella scores a goal because it makes him happy.
‘It makes me very happy as well. He says to me the other day “Dad, when are you going to score a goal?” So it would be nice to get off the mark in the Cup final… But I’ll give it up all day long for a win.’
Cork lost the showpiece to an extra-time goal a few days later and Miller’s adventurous career later continued in the United States before he was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer.
In September a whole host of former team-mates will gather for a game in his memory, one which will benefit the family he cherished enormously, so once the controversy surrounding the venue is resolved that should hopefully come back into focus.
I just enjoy when my little fella scores a goal because it makes him happy