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"Brady admits defeat and resigns at Celtic"
The Times (London, England) (Oct 8, 1993)
Brady, who later described his players as “having been asleep for the first 20 minutes'', realised that they were unlikely to make up the deficit. So it proved. Shortly after Celtic left the field, beaten 2-1 by their unfancied opponents, Brady advised the Celtic chairman, Kevin Kelly, that he wished to resign and would clear his desk at Celtic Park the following morning.
It was a decision that brought to a close Brady's 27- month tenure in charge of Celtic, who had gambled that the knowledge gleaned during his playing career at Arsenal, Juventus, Internazionale, Ascoli, West Ham United and, at international level, Ireland, with whom he won 72 caps, could outweigh his absence of managerial experience. As it turned out, Brady could not exorcise the spectre of Rangers, who won their first Scottish league and cup double for 11 years and their first treble for 15 years as Celtic's inability to secure a trophy extended to four seasons.
Given as much money as the impoverished club could spare, he saw his investments fail. Stuart Slater, bought from West Ham for Pounds 1.5 million, was sold to Ipswich Town last week for half that sum. Gary Gillespie's notorious record of injury did not deter Brady from paying almost Pounds 1 million to Liverpool only to find that the player continued to spend half his time on the treatment table beside another risky purchase, Tony Mowbray. Andy Payton, bought for Pounds 600,000, will shortly follow Slater back to England.
Dressing-room morale deteriorated when Brady could not agree terms with such squad players as Peter Grant and Mike Galloway, both highly regarded by the supporters because of their unquestioned commitment to the club. Grant was kept on monthly contracts for the best part of a year before Brady abruptly reversed his position and re-signed the player on a two-year contract.
Having said, on his appointment in July 1991, that his priority was to win a trophy during his first year, Brady found the promise impossible to fulfil and he admitted this summer that he was deeply disappointed in Celtic's inability to rival the increasingly dominant Rangers.
The appointment of Joe Jordan as assistant to Brady during the summer was widely seen as insurance against further failure to make progress. It became evident that the two did not agree on strategy, and some players took to referring sarcastically to Jordan as “the boss'', although out of Brady's hearing.
This season's statistics have been dismal. Celtic have only two wins from ten league fixtures, none of them at Parkhead, where they were booed off the field on Saturday after a goalless draw against promoted Kilmarnock. Nor was there any comfort in the Scottish League Cup, where Celtic lost in the semi-finals to a Rangers team reduced to ten men.
In Brady's defence, it can fairly be said that Celtic's problems may be beyond the scope of any manager to solve, at least for the foreseeable future. The board has yet to decide whether to seat the enormous covered terracings at Parkhead or move to the proposed new stadium at Cambuslang, and there has been endless talk of takeover attempts by disaffected supporters for more than a year.
This explains the reference made by Brady in a short statement released yesterday in which he said: “A tremendous pressure surrounds the club at present the management, players and supporters alike. It is my responsibility as manager that this should not affect the players. I have not been able to do this. For this reason, I have taken the decision to stand down.''
INTERVIEW / Preaching to the faithful from an Italian translation: Liam Brady was a hero in Dublin. He was a hero in London and a hero in Turin. Now he is in Glasgow, where success may lead to sainthood
HUNTER DAVIES
Tuesday, 20 October 1992
Independent Newspaper, source: link
Sitting in silence in the boardroom at Celtic Football Club in Glasgow, waiting for the manager, trying to rest my eyes, wishing I'd brought sun specs. Green as far as the eye can see, a harsh, horrible green that makes every leather chair, sofa and carpet look phoney. Emerald green, of course. From the club's Irish origins in 1888.
Every 10 minutes a guide comes through, ushering another group, come to worship in front of showcases filled with trophies, draped in green and white ribbons. The same speak-your-weight spiel, the same intakes of breath at the same stories. How Celtic won a World Champions cup in 1895. Nivver. That's Patsy Gallacher's medal. Charlie Tully's personal ring. Tales of long-gone 7-1 and 7-2 victories over Rangers. Then the great team of 1967, who won everything, including the European Cup. Aye, that was something. Then a hesitant request to take photographs of each other, in front of the altars.
There's a passion about football in Glasgow not equalled elsewhere in Britain, not even in Liverpool or Newcastle. And if you follow Celtic, it becomes an act of faith. You feel the rest of the world is against you. A Catholic club, surrounded by a sea of Protestants, with the dreaded Rangers, number one enemy.
Ah, a flash of pink. I can rearrange the old eyes. It is the manager, now at his desk, reading La Gazetta dello Sport, one of two Italian football newspapers he gets every day. A British football manager reading Italian? And at Celtic? A club obsessed by its own history? Since 1888, every manager has been a former Celtic player. Liam Brady is the first outsider. In more ways than three. How he came to be here covers the story of British football these past 20 years.
He's 36, born in Dublin, the last of seven children, son of a dockyard worker who played a bit of Gaelic football. By the age of eight, Liam wanted to be a professional footballer, corny ambition, for any eight-year-old, but not so fanciful in his case. Big brother Ray had gone to London, aged 17, uninvited, knocked on Millwall's door, asked for a trial and was taken on. He then said: I've got a brother Paddy, he's not bad, have a look at him. Later came Frank. All three became professionals. (Pat is now a lecturer in economics in London. Frank has his own design business in Dublin. Ray has a pub in Kent).
No need to give little Liam a leg up when his time came. The world beat its own way to his door. He was Ireland's schoolboy wonder. At 13, Arsenal had nabbed him. At 15, he left for London. Were there, er, any special inducements? 'Nothing. My parents were brought over and treated, that was about all. My mother always talked a lot and she told Arsenal's chief scout that I'd be OK as long as I was given lots of chips, so the chief scout said: 'We'll call him Chippy'. In that one second, I was given a nickname which lasted throughout my eight years at Arsenal. Strange. I was never called that in Ireland, or anywhere else.'
He felt homesick in the first few months, in digs with strangers, but he didn't run away like George Best or Graeme Souness. He managed to stick it out till Christmas, when he went home to Dublin. And stayed there. 'The chief scout kept ringing me, wanting me to come back, but he handled it well, never bullying me. After three weeks, I began to miss Arsenal, so I decided to go back. I was never homesick again. Ever.'
At 17, he was in the first team, loved by the North Bank, winner of a Cup Final medal. Then at 24, he told them he was going abroad when his contract ended. 'I wanted to be up front with the club and the fans. I'd seen how well Kevin Keegan had done in Germany, so I fancied going there. I'll admit the money was a big attraction, but it wasn't the number one reason. I just wanted to live and play football abroad.'
He was about to get married to an English girl called Sarah, whom he'd met in Dublin. She'd been working at the theatre festival. Together, they started learning German. Bayern Munich was after him, so he was told. Then nothing.
'My contract came up, and I was left with egg on my face. I'd told everyone I was going to Germany. Man United came for me and I had discussions with them, but to be honest, I didn't want to leave Arsenal for another British club. I only wanted abroad.'He'd never thought of Italy. The history of British players in Italy was poor – Greaves, Law and Baker all doing badly. Only John Charles had been a huge success. There had also been a ban on foreign players, but that was suddenly lifted – and Juventus made an offer. 'I presume they had a shopping list of players. I suddenly came top of it.'
His Juventus salary with bonuses was pounds 200,000 a year, plus car, flights home and other perks. At Arsenal, he was on pounds 40,000 a year – before tax. This was 1980, but the figures are still worth pondering. They explain a lot, such as the exodus of Paul Gascoigne and David Platt. He says that the Italian salaries and benefits are still five times greater. The club presidents in Italy, usually wealthy industrial or media tycoons, are prepared to pay any salary, any inducement. Not even Germany, Europe's richest country, can compete. Most of their World Cup stars played in Italy.
The first culture shock was the Ritiro. This is Italy's pre-season system, a monastic retreat, three weeks in the mountains, away from all fleshpots. In Britain, players knock off training at one o'clock, go home, free to turn on children's television, or wait till the pubs open.'We all had breakfast together, trained together. After lunch, we were sent to our beds, then wakened at five o'clock for more training. We talked football all day. I did miss my wife, as I'd just got married, and it was a bit lonely, sleeping on my own, but I loved it. It was exciting. If you told the normal British player there would be no sex or booze for three weeks, he'd be knocking the doors down.'
Back in Turin, with his wife, they got a flat, decorated it, bought Italian furniture, bought Italian clothes, ate Italian food. 'It was smashing. I loved everything about Italy.' Except their drinking habits. 'After one match, I said to Marco Tardelli, let's go for a beer. I was ordering my third glass, and he said he'd have to go, he'd finished. I was amazed. I was just getting warmed up. I soon learnt that in Italy, they don't go out drinking for the evening, not the way we do.'
He took Italian lessons and in six months could understand the dressing-room talk. In a year, he could make himself understood. 'The biggest problem was the press. Even in the Ritiro, there were 20 press there every day, looking for stories. They print a lot of trivia, as they have so many pages to fill, but they are more serious, more clued up than British reporters. You are not allowed an indifferent game. As a foreign player, you have a harder time if you're not playing well.'
But he did play well. In his first season, Juventus won the league. Towards the end of the second season, the president called him in. 'I thought it was strange when I saw these press men hanging about. I didn't know then, but I know now, that the president in Italy decides everything. He told me he was replacing me with Platini. It was totally unexpected. Looking back, perhaps I hadn't played the second season as well as the first – but we did win the title again, with me in the team. My first reaction was that's it, I'm going back, but Sarah said don't rule out the possibility of staying. A few weeks later, at the end of the season, Roma wanted me, but the president wouldn't allow it. He didn't want me going to a rival. In the end he agreed I could go to Sampdoria, who had just been promoted.'
As a creative midfield player, with an ever- so-educated left foot, he had always been a playmaker. Now he was told he would be running the team, making it function on the pitch. He and his wife had a seaside home at Nervi, just outside Genoa. Trevor Francis joined the club, so there was English company. 'I played my best football in those two years – and they were very happy.'
When his contract ended, he joined Inter Milan. 'It was exciting playing in the San Siro in front of 90,000, but I began to feel the pressure. I didn't get on as well with the coach. The team was in transition.'
He then made his first mistake. He went to Ascoli. 'I rushed myself into it. I should have waited for a better club. It was the money that did it, which was stupid of me. The town was small and provincial and we didn't like living there. I was soon at loggerheads with the president. I had a bust-up and refused to play. It was a very unpleasant time.'
He returned to England, after seven years in Italy, as a millionaire. 'You say that, I don't say that.' Considering he negotiated every contract without an agent, and got more each time he moved, he must have done pretty well. Unless it went on gambling – and he's still a fan of the horses – or on the stock market, where he still dabbles.
'It's not just the money but the football in Italy which is miles better. They score better goals, individual goals you don't see here. It's not as physical. You don't get the terrible injuries you get in British football. The Italian player is more skilful, more single-minded, more serious.
'We do have something the Italians lack – we can always generate a team spirit. The Danes won the European Nations Cup – not with the best players, but with team spirit. The Italians didn't even qualify – perhaps thanks to the Latin temperament. I think you can generalise. The Italians are . . . superficial, vain, temperamental, very generous, but fickle.'
That last sentence seemed to take him hours, picking each word carefully. Does he think Gazza will survive?
'To succeed, he'll have to learn the language, adapt to their culture, be open minded, not expect things to be the same as at home, not to be rash, to stay calm, not to say, 'I've had enough, I'm going home'. Italians take their football very very seriously. People expect a certain standard, on and off the pitch. But he's an exceptional player, so I'm sure they'll like him.' But will he succeed, given his personality? He looked thoughtful but refused to speculate further.
He finished his own career with West Ham, at the same time reaching a record 72 caps for the Republic of Ireland. They gave him an international testimonial when he retired that made pounds 350,000 – part of which he gave to a drugs charity. He had no intention of becoming a manager. He didn't need the money, or the aggravation. 'I doubted if I had the right personality. I am rather reserved, at least in public. I didn't know if had the knowledge, or the ability to spot players.'
Instead, he set himself up as agent and consultant, handling other footballers. He did that for a year, then began to miss football. 'I didn't like being on the outside, working on the phone putting propositions to people.'
Just over a year ago, a Scottish journalist rang to say his name was being mentioned as a possible manager of Celtic. 'I said it was news to me, and hung up. I then thought about it, and wondered why not, so I rang their chief executive. I went for an interview. Ten days later, I started.'
The culture shock was not quite as great as arriving in Italy. No need to buy the clothes or learn the language, but his geography was hazy. He thought Motherwell would mean an overnight stop, not realising it's just 20 minutes from Glasgow, nor did he know where St Johnstone played (Perth). As for the food, well, he's always liked chips.
'I did have an affinity with Celtic, like any little Catholic boy in Ireland. When their great '67 team came to Dublin, I got their autographs.'It can't be denied we are still a Catholic club. I should think over 90 per cent of our supporters have an Irish Catholic background, but we have always chosen players irrespective of race or religion. I suppose a lot of Catholic players have always been drawn to Celtic. If I wanted to count up, I could tell by their names, but I've no interest.
'I was told when I joined about 'Celtic's paranoia'. Now I know it's true. We are hard done by. Religiously and politically, there are people against us. I meet people who hate me, just because I'm the manager of Celtic. I've had to grow mentally stronger.'
Usually, the press give new managers their biggest headaches. 'After the pressures of the Italian press, I can cope.' What he hasn't got used to is the office work. 'People ask me what time I want the team coach , which hotel are we staying in, the sort of decisions I never realised had to be made. As a player, everything is done for you.'
His wife and two children, Ella, aged nine, born in Turin; and Michael, aged four, born in London, have settled well. They have what he says is an ordinary, four-bedroom detached house near Hamilton, nothing flash, and live an ordinary life. Ella is at a private Catholic school. 'I always believed in the state system, but in England the Tories have ruined it. Up here, the education is better, but I had to send her to a Catholic school. Her life would be pretty miserable otherwise, with her Da the manager of Celtic.'
It could not have been all that easy when recently her dad was banned for drink-driving, which all Rangers fans loved. 'I wasn't drunk, just over the limit, but I was ashamed. I'd let myself down, and the club.'
It will be interesting to see if he succeeds. British managers come in two models: flash, fluent, loud mouth, aggressive, jewellery an optional extra; or tight-lipped, surly, saying nothing. Liam Brady is neither. He speaks openly, honestly, but very slowly, thoughtfully. On the pitch, he has two instructions: give your all, but go out there and express yourself.
So far, he enjoys managing. 'When you lose as a player, you have a few drinks on Saturday night, and by training on Monday morning, you've got over it. A manager doesn't get over it. It hangs over you all week. On the other hand, the pleasure of winning is greater for a manager.'
FREE KICK – Interview with Liam Brady 1998
Magazine which was published in October 1998 and was dedicated to the Tartan Army.
The BIG interview in this short-lived magazine was with Liam Brady as he looked back on his time as Celtic manager. I was given permission by the author to run parts of this interview in a feature on Brady in CQN Magazine…
Brady’s final game as Celtic manager was on 6th October 1993 when we lost 2-1 at St Johnstone. This was the last ever game I ever went to with my late dad and I had never seen him so angry with a Celtic team. Awful does not describe how bad we were that night.
Brady describes Glasgow as an “intense and aggressive place – unless you are prepared for it, it can overwhelm you.”
Looking back at his time at Celtic he admits he made mistakes. “Yes I admit I made mistakes. I was new to football management and Celtic were one heck of a club to start off with. There were things that didn’t go right immediately and I made an error of judgement in the transfer market.
“I bought Tony Cascarino for £1.1 million and unfortunately, he couldn’t cope with the pressure that is always on Celtic players.”
Brady maintained that he was trying to play football the Glasgow Celtic way, aiming to maintain the Celtic tradition of performing with exciting excellence!
“Yes, that was my ambition. The Celtic support deserved that sort of team, that is what I wanted to give them. I’ll never forget my first game in charge – we won 4-3 against Dundee United at Tannadice. Scorelines like that would have kept those wonderful fans happy, I’m sure.”
So what went wrong? Brady had this to say:
“There were so many divisions at Parkhead and, of course, it was a well known fact that the old board didn’t have a lot of money to spend in the transfer market.
“There was friction around the place and that gets through to the players – of course it does. Anyone who says it doesn’t has got it wrong. You name me one club who has performed well out on the park when there has been trouble at boardroom level.
“It was all so frustrating. The Celtic fans were so unhappy and disillusioned with the old board that they refused to back the team. That affected us too.
“In my days, money was tight and I had to get it right with every player. There was no room for manoeuvre, no way of going out and buying another player if one purchase didn’t work out.
“Stuart Slater was like Cascarino. There can be no doubting his class, anyone at West Ham would tell you how good he was when he played at Upton Park. He was a born entertainer, a typical Celtic player, if you like. However, it just didn’t work for him on Glasgow.
“Once more the strain showed and he never displayed the talents we all knew he possessed and that was a pity. But Glasgow and playing for Celtic can do that to you.
“I’ve got to hold up my hands and say the pressure, without doubt, got to me too. Of course it did. You’ve got to ride the storm and, sadly, I couldn’t manage it. That was why I had to resign.”
Brady, speaking in 1998, had some sympathy with Wim Jansen in his dealing with Fergus McCann the previous season. He remembers his experiences dealing with a Celtic Chief Executive.
“I had to cope with Terry Cassidy during my time and that was not a very pleasant experience, I can assure you. The trouble with Cassidy was that he was not a football man and, as such, did not understand football people.
“We had some stand up rows, Cassidy and I. It did little for the morale of the place with things like that going on. I wanted to manage the team and do my level best to put out a team that deserved to wear the green and white hoops. Simple as that, but there was interference from every corner.
“When Cassidy eventually left, Celtic put in Michael Kelly to handle the club’s Press Relations department and things didn’t get any better. It all became a bit intense and it got to the stage that you had to continually look over your shoulder. So much for team harmony and pulling together! Yes it was quite an experience managing Celtic Football Club!”
Brady reckoned that the luck of the Irish deserted him while managing Celtic.
“We didn’t get much luck when I was there. We seemed to keep tripping over when it came to important hurdles. We played three semi finals in my time and lost them all.
“I’m not going to start making excuses at this late stage, but a rub of the green would have helped us on all three occasions. We didn’t get it and the results – all 1-0 defeats – are now in the history books.
I would dearly have loved to have given the Celtic fans a trophy in my time there. The reason I moved out was to give someone else a crack at providing the goods. When it got near the end for me it was a very, very difficult time. I was aware of what the Celtic fans wanted. I knew about their desires for the club because they matched my own. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out.”
Brady had had enough after that dreadful night in Perth – two weeks earlier Celtic had lost to Rangers in one of those semi finals he lost as manager. As the team made its way back from Perth in the driving rain, Brady made up his mind. That night probably was second in terms of my all time low, watching Celtic.
Just don’t start me on Black Sunday.
“Cascarino couldn’t cope with the pressure,” Liam Brady on managing Celtic
By Editor 27 March, 2018 No Comments
https://thecelticstar.com/cascarino-couldnt-cope-pressure-liam-brady-managing-celtic/
Looking back that dreadful night in Perth signalled the end of Liam Brady’s time as Celtic manager. Recently I came across a copy of a long gone Scottish football magazine which was published in October 1998 and was dedicated to the Tartan Army. It had an interview with Liam Brady as he looked back on his time as Celtic manager.
Brady’s final game as Celtic manager was on 6 October 1993 when we lost 2-1 at St Johnstone. This was the last ever game I ever went to with my late dad and I had never seen him so angry with a Celtic team. Awful does not describe how bad we were that night.
Brady describes Glasgow as an “intense and aggressive place – unless you are prepared for it, it can overwhelm you,” and looking back at his time at Celtic he admits he made mistakes.
“Yes I admit I made mistakes. I was new to football management and Celtic were one heck of a club to start off with. There were things that didn’t go right immediately and I made an error of judgement in the transfer market.
“I bought Tony Cascarino for £1.1 million and unfortunately, he couldn’t cope with the pressure that is always on Celtic players.”
Brady maintained that he was trying to play football the Celtic way, aiming to maintain the club’s tradition of performing with attacking flair.
“Yes, that was my ambition. The Celtic support deserved that sort of team, that is what I wanted to give them. I’ll never forget my first game in charge – we won 4-3 against Dundee United at Tannadice. Scorelines like that would have kept those wonderful fans happy, I’m sure.”
So what went wrong? Brady tried to explain.
“There were so many divisions at Parkhead and, of course, it was a well known fact that the old board didn’t have a lot of money to spend in the transfer market.
“There was friction around the place and that gets through to the players – of course it does. Anyone who says it doesn’t has got it wrong. You name me one club who has performed well out on the park when there has been trouble at boardroom level.
“It was all so frustrating. The Celtic fans were so unhappy and disillusioned with the old board that they refused to back the team. That affected us too. In my days, money was tight and I had to get it right with every player. There was no room for manoeuvre, no way of going out and buying another player if one purchase didn’t work out.
“Stuart Slater was like Cascarino. There can be no doubting his class, anyone at West Ham would tell you how good he was when he played at Upton Park. He was a born entertainer, a typical Celtic player, if you like. However, it just didn’t work for him on Glasgow.
“Once more the strain showed and he never displayed the talents we all knew he possessed and that was a pity. But Glasgow and playing for Celtic can do that to you.
“I’ve got to hold up my hands and say the pressure, without doubt, got to me too. Of course it did. You’ve got to ride the storm and, sadly, I couldn’t manage it. That was why I had to resign.”
Brady, speaking in 1998, had some sympathy with Wim Jansen in his dealing with Fergus McCann the previous season. He remembers his experiences dealing with a Celtic Chief Executive.
“I had to cope with Terry Cassidy during my time and that was not a very pleasant experience, I can assure you. The trouble with Cassidy was that he was not a football man and, as such, did not understand football people.
“We had some stand up rows, Cassidy and I. It did little for the morale of the place with things like that going on. I wanted to manage the team and do my level best to put out a team that deserved to wear the green and white hoops. Simple as that, but there was interference from every corner.
“When Cassidy eventually left, Celtic put in Michael Kelly to handle the club’s Press Relations department and things didn’t get any better. It all became a bit intense and it got to the stage that you had to continually look over your shoulder. So much for team harmony and pulling together! Yes it was quite an experience managing Celtic Football Club!”
And Brady reckoned that the luck of the Irish deserted him while managing Celtic.
“We didn’t get much luck when I was there. We seemed to keep tripping over when it came to important hurdles. We played three semi finals in my time and lost them all. I’m not going to start making excuses at this late stage, but a rub of the green would have helped us on all three occasions. We didn’t get it and the results – all 1-0 defeats – are now in the history books.
“I would dearly have loved to have given the Celtic fans a trophy in my time there. The reason I moved out was to give someone else a crack at providing the goods. When it got near the end for me it was a very, very difficult time. I was aware of what the Celtic fans wanted. I knew about their desires for the club because they matched my own. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out.”
Brady had had enough after that dreadful night in Perth – two weeks earlier Celtic had lost to Rangers in one of those semi finals. As the team made its way back from Perth in the driving rain, Brady made up his mind to resign.