Updated at 15.51
AHEAD OF THEIR game with Ireland last June, one Scottish journalist noted how “morose” Irish boss Martin O’Neill had become compared with those effervescent days when he routinely prowled the touchline and guided Celtic to victories over Juventus, Barcelona and Liverpool among others.
However, anyone wondering why O’Neill is often a little grumpy and guarded in his dealings with the media nowadays might recall Steve Staunton’s tenure, and the increasingly difficult time he had when it came to public relations. Unlike O’Neill, Staunton tended to be too honest and open at times — an approach that didn’t do the then-Ireland manager any favours in the long run.
At the time it was announced, the appointment didn’t necessarily seem destined to fail. Staunton was an Irish legend who had distinguished himself by earning 102 caps during a glittering career at international level.
Jurgen Klinsmann, another former great player with no managerial pedigree, would guide Germany to the 2006 World Cup semi-finals. The hiring of Staunton was likened to that of Klinsmann at the time and the vastly experienced Bobby Robson was also on board to help guide his younger colleague (although Robson’s involvement in the Irish team became increasingly limited owing to his failing health).
Ireland were coming off the Brian Kerr era. Their final two matches under the Dubliner had been a 1-0 win over Cyprus and a 0-0 draw with Switzerland. Both performances were heavily criticised, with star player Damien Duff reportedly suggesting Ireland had played like “a pub team” in the latter game.
Kerr had also made a big gamble in the Swiss match that they needed to win to retain hopes of qualification, replacing Robbie Keane and Clinton Morrison with Gary Doherty and Stephen Elliot in the final 25 minutes.
Consequently, despite having only lost one match in the group, the FAI decided against renewing Kerr’s contract, amid claims in the media that the former Ireland youth coach’s tactics were too conservative.
Staunton, therefore, was supposed to be a breath of fresh air. The inexperienced coach was overseeing a transitional period, with young players like Stephen Ireland, Kevin Doyle and Paul McShane being introduced into the set up.
The former defender aimed to bring the spirit of the Charlton era back to the Irish side, as epitomised by the return of popular physio Mick Byrne to the fold. The positive, freewheeling, put-em-under pressure mentality — in comparison with Kerr’s more cerebral, tactically-oriented, professional-but-fun-free approach — became the philosophy Staunton tried to instill.
As an article in The Irish Independent at the start of Staunton’s reign put it: “During his tenure, Kerr did everything from a scientific standpoint but Steve Staunton is unashamedly pursuing a holistic approach.”
The Staunton era began promisingly with a 3-0 friendly win over Sweden, but quickly descended into farce. After a disappointing but respectable 1-0 qualifying loss in Germany, the team suffered a humiliation on a par with the worst results in the national side’s history — the 5-2 loss to Cyprus. That side certainly had no look of Kerr-style conservatism or negativity, with Clinton Morrison and Robbie Keane up front, alongside an extremely attacking midfield of Damien Duff, Aiden McGeady, Kevin Kilbane and Stephen Ireland.
Staunton’s successor, Giovanni Trapattoni, who favoured the decidedly less adventurous midfield duo of Glenn Whelan and Keith Andrews, would routinely cite the Cyprus game more or less as justification for his overtly negative tactics.
Almost as bad, in its own way, during Stan’s ill-fated tenure, was the 2-1 win over San Marino away, when Ireland needed a last-gasp Stephen Ireland goal to get out of jail. In a moment of unintentional comedy that was quickly becoming a hallmark of the campaign, Staunton tried to defend this shambolic performance with the reasoning that the result is all that matters.
And granted, Staunton’s tenure was not devoid of positivity — Ireland did earn a rare win over a higher ranked nation (Slovakia) as well as drawing with a Germany team that would go on to reach the Euro 2008 final, only to lose 1-0 to an extraordinarily talented Spanish team.
But by and large, watching Ireland under Staunton was car-crash viewing, as they were invariably a team with an obvious lack of organisation and confidence.
Worse than watching Ireland, however, was watching Staunton himself. The legendary defender looked out of his depth in management — a suspicion that was backed up by his similarly catastrophic 23-game stint in charge of Darlington in the 2009-10 season.
What made Staunton’s reign so unforgettable, aside from the odd disastrous performance, were his post-match interviews and general dealings with the media.
The air of ineptitude he carried was epitomised by RTÉ pundit Eamon Dunphy memorably asking “would you trust him to drive the train to Cork?”
But the Staunton saga felt more like a tragedy than a comedy. A loyal and passionate servant to his country since making his debut under Jack Charlton in 1988, it was clear that no one wanted to succeed in the job more than him.
Yet the beleaguered manager’s interview after his final match in charge was a sad sight. He admitted “the standard was a long way off” and the performance “wasn’t good enough,” pointing the blame at himself and his players. Even the coach’s fiercest critics would likely have felt a tinge of sympathy for the man who had captained Ireland inspirationally in the absence of Roy Keane just over five years previously at the 2002 World Cup.
Staunton, it should be pointed out, had accepted the Ireland job after an extremely difficult year personally. His marriage had ended and his father had undergone treatment for lung cancer. He spoke with genuine pride of what it meant to manage his country.
Nevertheless, it soon became apparent that the ex-Aston Villa defender was out of his depth and plainly ill-equipped to deal with the media. After the Cyprus debacle, he revealed that he had intended to start Paul McShane but Bobby Robson had talked him out of it. Following the San Marino embarrassment, he reassured journalists by pointing out that Ireland normally play well in the month of March.
It was clear that Staunton was uncomfortable in the role. The sadness in his eyes became increasingly apparent as the dismal performances continued. After just three friendly matches in charge, one of which was the aforementioned Sweden win, Eamon Dunphy was already calling for a change of manager. The pressure was instantaneously relentless, and it didn’t get much better from thereon in.
Yet despite the torrent of abuse and ridicule that came his way from fans and the media, the Louth man managed to stay relatively calm and dignified throughout. But of course, he knew not to take these harsh criticisms too seriously. The youngest member of the Liverpool side on that tragic day at Hillsborough — an experience the then-20-year-old finds difficult to talk about to this day — he would have gained some perspective into the relative triviality of winning and losing football matches in comparison to larger events in society early on in his career.
More than anything else, though, the Staunton saga illustrated how difficult management can be in the modern era for those who aren’t PR savvy or gifted in the art of public speaking.
In many ways, Staunton was of a different era, when football management was a less complex and political business. An emerging star in a great Liverpool team that was still picking up big trophies, he was one of the last of a dying breed — the old-fashioned footballer ill-at-ease with razzmatazz of the Sky-driven money-oriented modern game.
“When Jack Charlton first took over I think there were four or five journalists. Maybe one TV crew. And now look at this today,” he quipped during one of his press conferences, ostensibly unimpressed at what the game had become.
You get the sense that Staunton might have had a better chance of succeeding as a manager in Charlton’s era, when ill-conceived quotes weren’t endlessly dissected and mercilessly picked apart, while football in general was a simpler game, with managers not having the burden of persuading multi-millionaires to perform to the top level.
Ultimately, Staunton was a man out of time that the modern game was leaving behind, living in a world far removed from the data analysis and the ultra-sophisticated iPad-wielding tacticians that football was moving towards. And his failure to adapt appears to have been fatal, in a sense. Since leaving the Ireland job with effectively the opposite reputation of that which he enjoyed as a player, Staunton has kept a relatively low profile, working in scouting jobs and most recently setting up a football academy in Britain.
And while his management career may have failed, Staunton still deserves to be remembered as a legendary figure for his playing days. After all, how many other Irish players have won a league, FA Cup and League Cup (twice), while earning over 100 international caps and appearing in three World Cups? His management career therefore should be considered as just a small, unfortunate footnote in the life of one of the most successful and best players this country has ever produced.
