Johnny Giles – a great player and an even greater analyst

Gerry Buckley

I am sure that many readers can relate to watching countless reruns of old matches in a variety of sports during the first ‘lockdown’ earlier this year.

Of course, there is no substitute for live action. For example, I found the Cork v Kerry game last Sunday to be absolutely riveting viewing despite the paucity of quality football on offer. Watching games where you know the outcome can be quite monotonous, even if the game has been a classic.

Personally, my target was to watch old matches where the result was obviously known and had been entered into the record books (has President Trump conceded yet?), but which took place before my memory kicked in (the early 1960s). The problem with that line of thinking was that television coverage was in its infancy then and a few minutes’ highlights via Pathé News, with its crowing bird logo, was often as much as fans would get to see of big sporting spectacles.

In this regard, I was delighted to get my hands on the full match from the 1963 FA Cup final, English soccer’s biggest showpiece at the time (and for a few decades thereafter, but no longer the case – sadly). It was a mere five years after the Munich disaster and Manchester United’s popularity across the Irish Sea was growing steadily due to the tragic death of Liam (Billy) Whelan on February 6, 1958 in that most horrendous of freak accidents.

The ‘Red Devils’ had three Irishmen in their ranks, skipper Noel Cantwell (still remembered for his risky post-match antics in throwing the lid of the prestigious cup up in the air), recently-deceased full back par excellence Tony Dunne, and a right winger/inside forward called Johnny Giles. United, after a poor Division 1 campaign, rescued their season with a 3-1 win against regular cup bridesmaids, Leicester City.

In truth, the diminutive Giles did not overly stand out that day. Indeed, it seems that he only started because his eventual brother-in-law, Nobby Stiles RIP, was injured. How sad it is that the man immortalised for his toothless jig in Wembley three years later passed away in recent weeks, and after a lengthy and dreadful illness with no financial security to ease the pain.

However, when Giles moved to unfashionable Leeds Utd the following season, he quickly became the more skilful half of a now-immortalised midfield duo alongside Scotland’s Billy Bremner RIP. A bitter Giles vowed to haunt Matt Busby after his £33,000 transfer to Elland Road (a mere £583,440 if index-linked to 2020 – you’d get Lionel Messi’s little toe for it!) and he probably did, with the team in all-white (progressive manager Don Revie’s idea to emulate Real Madrid) at least matching their richer and more illustrious rivals during Giles’ 12 years as midfield general at Leeds.

When he joined West Brom as player/manager in 1975, Giles made huge strides with the midlands club. Indeed, the suspicion will always be that if the Leeds board had heeded Revie’s advice prior to his ill-fated move to take over the English reins that Giles should succeed him in the bainisteoir’s bib at Elland Road, the Yorkshire club would have remained as a major power rather than the up-and-down period they have endured in the intervening 45 years.

Astonishingly, Giles was the Republic of Ireland player/manager at the same time. I vividly recall the legendary Kevin Keegan opining at the time in his must-read weekly column in ‘Shoot’ that “Giles is Superman” for undertaking all four roles.

Appalling refereeing decisions and downright bad luck deprived him of the distinction which his former Leeds colleague, Jack Charlton RIP, somewhat luckily garnered in 1987 when Ireland eventually qualified for a major competition.

Giles was truly a world-class player, and we have had less than a handful since in the green jersey (only Liam Brady, Mark Lawrenson, Paul McGrath and Roy Keane – in my opinion). Of course, it is not Stephen Kenny’s fault that we have nobody even remotely close to that tag just now. (I just hope that in two days’ time James McClean, a player widely considered to be one of our more important performers in recent years – I don’t agree, incidentally – does not spend his likely time on the Wembley surface exacting revenge on former ‘Oirishmen’, Declan Rice and Jack Grealish. Well, maybe I do, just a little!)

However, brilliant and all as he was on the pitch, Giles’ off-field contributions as the shrewdest analyst in the British Isles have endeared him to a generation of sports-lovers who were not even born before he finished as a player. Clearly, not one to suffer fools gladly – if at all – his razor-sharp knowledge of the ‘beautiful game’ educated us all as we sat at home on our sofas.

Irritating as Eamon Dunphy could be, and boring as the aforementioned Brady could be, the threesome was a must-watch act. In recent years, only Brady survived the dual axe of RTÉ’s Dee Forbes, and our biggest mutual enemy, Father Time.

Maybe some Saturday night, listen to Match of the Day and the ‘contribution’ of Alan Shearer (a great striker, in fairness) and compare it with Giles. Even what is, at best, good play is labelled as “absolutely magnificent”. Conversely, the maestro never resorted to hyperbole, and it is still a joy listening to him on Newstalk on a weekly basis.

I felt weak at the knees when meeting one of my biggest boyhood heroes in Blackhall Place as part of the team of celebrities who opened the new Westmeath Examiner offices over a decade ago.

We all hope and pray that Michael John Giles, who turned 80 last Friday, has the same longevity and durability as a person that he had as a footballer of the very highest standard.