http://www.ireland.com/newspaper/spo...72SPS2TOM.html
Remember Jack Charlton? Big, blunt Geordie whose tactical sophistication ran no further than giving it a lash? Wouldn't have known a spin doctor from a witch doctor? Well, scorn not his simplicity. Charlton understood two very basic things about the media.
First. Managers get paid not to take media too seriously or too personally.
Second. Editors abhor a vacuum. When you give 60-second press conferences, when you send in fringe players to speak to the media, you create a vacuum. It gets filled with speculation and opinion and conjecture. If there's one thing soccer people hate, it's media opinion.
And in the Irish papers this week there has been much media opinion. Six points left to play for and everyone was reaching conclusions. The evidence is still not fully submitted but the jury was issuing verdicts.
Times have changed since Jack strode among us, but the truths are eternal. The media is easy to satisfy. The media is not like Oliver, constantly wanting more. The media asks for sufficient.
If 60 or 70 media people gather in a room on the week of a World Cup game for a press conference, they expect to be speaking to somebody who will actually play in the game.
This week, the media, who have paid through the nose to come to Cyprus, were allowed to speak to Paddy Kenny, Keith Doyle, Liam Miller, Andy O'Brien and Gary Doherty. The Expendables, insufficient to the point of being an insult.
If the media goes to a training session in the expectation of being given a five-minute, pitch-side briefing, as per the official media guide, they expect the briefing to happen. On Tuesday it didn't happen at all. On Wednesday it lasted just over 60 seconds. Again, insufficient.
So, in the most important week for Irish soccer since the last World Cup, the media and the Irish squad were engaged in a phoney war which need not have happened. It has been distracting, dispiriting and disappointing.
Why did it happen? Why has media professionalism in the FAI never advanced beyond the old McCarthyite view of the media either being "in the tent ****ing out or outside the tent ****ing in". Why? Because nobody wants it to change.
The FAI this week were letting the media do the dirty work, as usual. You would think that after Saipan, after Genesis, after the messy end to the McCarthy era that lessons would be learned? They have.
When it comes to ditching a manager, it takes the pressure off if you let the media soften him up a bit first.
Brian Kerr's team play football tonight. The kick-off in Nicosia will put an end to one of the more bizarre weeks in the already quite bizarre recent history of the Irish soccer team.
Playing football will be a welcome return to business as usual, but Kerr will feel the bruises on his body and the burns on his neck. He was left dangling from a tree this week and he was beaten with sticks like a pinata.
After the week he has had it is important to remember that, whatever happens on the pitch over the next few days, and whatever goes down in the bloodstained boardrooms of the FAI over the next few weeks, Brian Kerr will remain potentially a great Irish manager. Whether he gets the chance to realise that potential depends largely on the convergence of several sets of circumstances.
Lie down. Imagine you are Brian Kerr. Go back in time a little way. Picture yourself approaching the final three games of a tense World Cup qualifying group. France. Cyprus. Switzerland.
Could you please list in order of horror which of the following you would need like a hole in the head. Best player and leader suspended and injured? Only decent striker pictured on the razz at 4am? Other half-decent striker suspended? Half of your team not getting regular football? Employers leaving you dangling over the issue of a new contract? War with the media?
On Wednesday evening at Larnaca Airport a member of the Kerr backroom team could be found musing aloud as he stood near the baggage carousel. "Am I mad?" he said, "or are we six points away from a World Cup play-off? Do we have an away game against Cyprus and a home game against Switzerland to make the play-offs? Is it just me that thinks that?"
He had a point, but if the message has got lost this week, a time which demanded the relentless accentuation of the positive, then it is not, for once, the media who are entirely to blame.
Brian Kerr, the FAI and the players handled things badly, and the entire tone of the week has been negative and defensive. From Le Meridien Hotel in Limassol there issues the scent of fear and loathing. The odd thing is that, if it all goes wrong this week, only Kerr will be paying the price.
Perhaps it will all come good. If next Thursday morning transpires, though, to
be a time for reflection and regret, it
would be best to divide all the circumstances which got us there into those which could have been avoided and those which couldn't have been.
It's important to remember that there are things which Brian Kerr can do nothing about.
He can do nothing about who gets to play in English Premiership teams. The paucity of our resources, though, was never better highlighted than during the ludicrous fuss which followed young Stephen Ireland having a good debut for Manchester City last week.
If a 19-year-old who seems already to have a record of placing petulance above patriotism (Ireland has apparently announced he will never play for Kerr) is hailed as a solution, well, then the problem is more crippling than we thought.
Brian Kerr can do nothing about the past. We have somehow arrived at a state of mind where we assume we have the right to be at every major soccer tournament. We don't have the right and we don't have the players.
Brian Kerr can do nothing about the psychological make-up of his players. He has some technically gifted footballers at his disposal. He has few leaders. He has few big men. He doesn't have anybody who will grab a game by the scruff of the neck and win it on his own.
That's the hand Brian Kerr has been dealt. Fintan Drury alluded to as much on the radio this week. Kerr was quick to point out that Drury wasn't speaking on his behalf at the time, but what Drury said wasn't nearly as big a deal as the space it occupied suggested.
Obviously, the wisdom of the manager's agent commenting on team affairs is moot, but taken as a contribution to the debate the point itself bears argument.
None of these guys are leaders. None of them are of the quality which persuades one that collectively they should grace any tournament of world-class players. We get to tournaments by punching above our weight.
To the list of things about which Brian Kerr can do nothing (at this stage) could be added Roy Keane's absence, the structure of his contractual arrangements with the FAI and the re-emergence of a clatter of world-class French players. He could add to his list of untimely misfortunes the recent regime change at the Irish Independent, which has seen a notable stiffening of the line on his stewardship.
Will all this be taken into account by Kerr's employers, or are they already rushing girlishly after some big man in a suit and looking to ditch Kerr regardless? How did the Irish manager come to be engaging in the sideshow of a major media bunfight in the most important working week of his life? How did he get to Cyprus with a World Cup play-off spot beckoning (the very route by which Mick McCarthy's long reign was redeemed) and find the clouds gathering over him, the mood sour and the Cypriots chuckling to themselves?
As Brian Kerr bumbled through his media engagements this week, the spotlight on him served only to emphasise the isolation he must feel.
Those who know Brian Kerr will say the job hasn't changed him much, that behind the tight public face he is still essentially the same likeable, genial character who took the job three years ago and was welcomed into the Shelbourne Hotel for his firstpress conference with garlands and palm leaves.
Those who know him lament, though, that he can't bring himself to perform for the media as if nothing has happened to alter that happy relationship. It's not, they say, that Kerr didn't expect criticism and pressure when he took the job, he just didn't realise it would hurt so much.
Kerr suffers a disadvantage not felt by an Irish manager since Eoin Hand's days: he lives in Dublin. He can pretend to ignore what is said and what is written, but it is all around him. He lives in and breathes the same atmosphere.
Much of what is written is penned by people he knows personally and has known for a long time. Kerr can't bring himself to pretend he doesn't notice.
Early in his reign, the first hint that his media hand would be less steady than other aspects of his talents came when he steadfastly refused to meet the group of English journalists who cover the Irish team for a get-to-know-you lunch.
His argument that they hadn't wanted to get to know him before he became Irish manager was dubious, at best, but if he decided to tread gingerly with the English media it was the home-based contingent he was failing to cater for.