Читать книгу The Boys of '93. Derry’s All-Ireland Kings онлайн

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On the surface, gruff and closed, he has ‘no truck’ with introspection and is famously a terror with sports journalists across Ireland. But, the more abuse he gives them the more their copy purrs. ‘The High Priest of Irreverence’ is ‘roguish’, ‘charismatic’ and ‘shrewd’. But Christ he can give them a lick – and anyone else should they rouse his ire. He’s not bad tempered by any means, full of fun and craic and chat, but his passion for the game is messianic and there’s no mercy – no mercy – for blasphemers.

‘Youse boys knows nathin’ about futball’, he crowed to three unlucky scribes after his team hammered Down on the way to the Ulster Final, the crucial provincial landmark on their All-Ireland championship charge. Against the conquering Mournemen of ’91, the nearly men of Derry hadn’t a chance. ‘Look at the scoreboard, boys. How could yis get it so wrong? Youse can’t know anything about football, youse can’t.’ I know this – the country knows this – as they report their roasting post-match. Out of the sports pages the following day I can hear his voice rising on the ‘can’t’, his South Derry brogue crackling in fury and triumph.