John Giles was born in Dublin in 1940. At only three years of age he discovered a gift that was to open doors to a career of international success. He realised, as he recalls himself, he could kick a ball properly. From then on, time spent not playing football was, he reckoned, time wasted.

Still not quite fifteen, Giles fulfilled a dream by being signed by Manchester United. Following the Munich air crash that devastated the United first team, he was promoted to play alongside the likes of Harry Gregg and Bobby Charlton. In his debut for the national squad in 1959 he scored, just one of the first in a string of heroic performances on the international stage. In 1963, he moved to Leeds United – then in Division 2 – to play a central role in their great successes of the 1960s and 70s. He switched to a player-manager role in later years with both West Bromwich Albion and Shamrock Rovers.
Currently, he’s best known as a key player on RTÉ’s team of football analysts, where his forthright views, uncanny ability to read a game and humorous interactions with Eamon Dunphy, Liam Brady, Bill O’Herlihy and Ronnie Whelan have earned him a reputation as one of the most astute commentators on the beautiful game.
Jackie Hayden: Your father Dickie was a huge encouragement to your obsession. Were you not under pressure from teachers to study or get a proper job?
John Giles: Well, I went to Brunner [Brunswick Street school) and I did ok in the primary school. But in the secondary level we got a lot of homework and I wasn’t very interested in that. But I was under no pressure from the teachers. It was up to yourself. The only pressure I had was that I was known as the soccer man. Some of them weren’t too pleased at that.
That was because the GAA had a ban on playing “foreign” games. So presumably the school had no soccer team?
That’s right. Those schools were very anti-soccer in those days. When I went into the secondary school my father had to sign a document saying that I would play for the school Gaelic team. I played Gaelic football for the school and enjoyed it.
How did growing up back then in a relatively poor Dublin family compare to the hard times we’re going through now?
I was brought up in the forties in Ormonde Square in Dublin and things have improved an awful lot since then. Back then there was a lot of poverty and unemployment, and I hope it doesn’t get to that stage now, with the current recession. But I was born into that environment, so I didn’t know any different. You just accepted that that was what life was. I wasn’t unhappy because I was playing football. There were no distractions from playing, no television, no computers, so you just went out on the street and played. Whether we had money or no money, that’s what I wanted to do anyway.
At what point did you feel you might make a living playing football?
That came later on. I’d been kicking a ball with my grandfather when I was three and I was kicking it correctly. It was for the enjoyment I was doing it. I knew nothing about professional football until much later on – maybe when I got to about nine or 10 I was following Manchester United from afar. Jackie Carey was a great Irish player with them then. Probably from around that time I wanted to be a professional footballer.

How did you feel leaving home at 14 to live in a strange country, when you were taken on by Manchester United?
I didn’t mind to tell you the truth. I was too excited about going to Manchester United to be fearful in any way. If you want to do something badly enough, the home comforts don’t really mean that much. Of course I missed home and the family. I don’t think anybody really likes living in digs, but I’d no intention of going home again just because of home-sickness.
Was Manchester United all you hoped it would be?
Yeah, but maybe not for the first year or two. My father thought it was a good idea for me to learn a trade so I worked for a year in a factory while doing my football training on Tuesday and Thursday nights. So I didn’t see much of Old Trafford. I was playing for the Juniors which was the lowest level. So it certainly wasn’t a glamorous life by any means.
Later, footballers got a reputation for hanging around nightclubs, drinking, girls and even drugs.
It was a much simpler life for us in my days. There were no drugs around at all. It wasn’t really a question of me not getting into drugs because of willpower or discipline. It just didn’t arise. Coming from Ireland I was quite an innocent lad, as most of us were. I wouldn’t have been drinking. I was only 15 anyway. Apart from that, nobody could really afford to drink. Even when I got older I wouldn’t have been into that at all.
So what did you do on days off or in the evenings?
Mostly we’d go to the pictures in the local cinemas. It was probably all most of us could afford. In those days, when you turned pro at 17 you got a pass that would get you into the pictures in town. I must have seen every picture that came out between 1956 and maybe ’61 or ’62.
Was this a pass you got from the club?
Yeah. It was a kind of a perk (laughs)!
Since then we’ve seen a string of players – Jimmy Greaves, Paul Gascoigne, our own Paul McGrath and George Best ­– all with serious drink problems.
To be honest, I didn’t actually like the taste of drink!
That’s a good start!
(laughs) And I still don’t like the taste of drink. Even these days, I might have a Bacardi now and then, but I’ll drown it with a bottle of coke. I was never into it. It didn’t interest me, and it wasn’t good for your football, as proven by the names you just mentioned.
You must have been tempted on occasion!
I wouldn’t want to take any great credit for willpower. I just wasn’t interested. I wanted to concentrate my energies on being a professional footballer. That’s all that mattered. Actually, being a professional footballer isn’t a glamorous life if you’re doing it the right way (laughs). But I played against Jimmy Greaves and he was a genius of a player. I never heard of him drinking at that time, whereas normally you’d hear it on the grapevine. I really only learned of his problems when he was finished playing. But obviously there were players in my time, just like today, who did like a drink.
I was in Dalymount Park when you made your debut and scored for Ireland against Sweden in 1959. What memories do you have of that occasion?
I have great memories of it because I used to go to the matches in Dalymount with my father when I was a kid, before I went to Manchester. I’d seen all my heroes playing there: Paddy Coad, Arthur Fitzsimons, Jackie Carey, Tommy Eglington, Peter Farrell. Of course I always wanted to play at Dalymount and to play for Ireland.
So you obviously enjoyed it?
What was good about it from my point of view was that it happened much quicker than I expected it to. I’d gone to United when I was 15 and I’d only played two matches for the first team when I was picked to play for Ireland when I was still only 18. I was playing with players I’d idolised, like Noel Cantwell, Charlie Hurley, Pat Saward, Georgie Cummins. We’d only met up on the Sunday morning at the Gresham Hotel in Dublin. The players would play in the English League on the Saturday and travel over on the Sunday. So here I am in the dressing room before the match with all these guys.
Would you be nervous before a big occasion like that?
You have to do your stuff no matter what age you are. It was like a dream come true for me. I would be more excited than nervous. When you’re a professional footballer you’re nervous before every match, but it’s what they call a good nervousness. You’re not trembling with fear. There’s an excitement that builds up and gets your adrenaline flowing and gets you in the right frame of mind, you know? I was conscious that day of not getting too excited or carried away with the occasion. That can happen, and then you don’t perform.
We used to talk about the celebrated Dalymount Roar in those days. Did it really have any effect on players on the pitch?
Oh it did, yeah. For that first game we went 2-0 down against a good Sweden team who’d just beaten England on the Wednesday. That had actually built the anticipation of the crowd for our game against them. We weren’t getting the Dalymount Roar when we were two down, we were getting the Dalymount Groan! But then I scored a good goal and we got the Dalymount Roar going! We went on to win 3-2, which was great.
How did the crowd have that effect?
The Dalymount crowd were so close to the pitch, they’d nearly be on top of you, maybe forty thousand of them, and that made it special.
Can Croke Park or the Aviva Stadium match that?
I don’t think they can. Because you don’t have the crowd so close to the pitch and so close to the players, it’s hard to create that same effect.
You were at Man U during the Munich air disaster. How did you first hear about it?
The youth team was in a big national competition at the time for players under 18. We were back training on the Thursday afternoon of the crash. When we were finished, old Bill English, the trainer there, told us the first team were in an accident. The first impression we all got was that it was a minor incident. There was no news initially of anyone being injured. It was only when I got back to my digs that the news was coming through on the radio and the full horror of it began to be felt. I knew it was serious then. Of course we didn’t have the rolling news services we have today, so it was mostly through the radio we learned the details as they trickled through, that this player or that player had passed away.
Was there any sense of despair among the players at the club?
No, I don’t think so. They told us to keep away from Old Trafford for at least a week. There was no point in going there. The atmosphere was so bad. It was dreadful. There were lots of funerals, so they just told us keep away altogether. There was no football being played anyway.
You played for United when Matt Busby was manager. How would his style compare with Alex Ferguson?
They’re totally different. Busby was a softer, very dignified man. But what they and all good managers have in common is their ability to get good players into the club and to get the best out of them. But all managers have different styles. In those days you had Bill Shankly at Liverpool, Bill Nicholson at Spurs. Lately you’ve had Wenger, Mourinho, Ferguson, Benitez. All of them have different ways of managing, but in my day you didn’t have the culture of the mind games of today.
Does that mean you’d have preferred to have played under Busby than under Ferguson?
I don’t know if I’d go that far. But we didn’t have the public spats between managers and the mind games we get today, which I don’t think does the game any good. But Ferguson has proven that he’s a great manager and I’d loved to have played under all the great managers because they can all bring out different aspects of your game.
What chance is there that Roy Keane will replace Ferguson when he finally goes?
The person who will take over from Ferguson will have to be somebody who has been successful elsewhere. Now twelve months can be a long time in football, but looking at the situation right now, Roy Keane hasn’t done that. Ipswich Town aren’t having the best of times, so if Ferguson decided to finish tomorrow it would be doubtful if Roy Keane would step into his shoes.
Back in your Leeds days I used to watch The Big Match on TV. I was surprised to hear later that Leeds were regarded as a dirty team when that hadn’t been obvious to me. What’s your take on that?
Leeds have been vilified over the last thirty years. The criticism got out of all proportion. In those days, games were a lot rougher than they are now. There’s more protection now from the referees for players. There’s more scrutiny through television. But Leeds were supposed to be the big villains who bullied everybody out of the way, which is total nonsense. Leeds were a rough team, but so was every other team! Chelsea had Chopper Harris, Eddie McCreadie, Peter Osgood. Everton had Jimmy Gabriel, Sandy Brown, Johnny Morrissey. All teams had three or four players who could get stuck in. I’ve read a bit of the book True Storey by Peter Storey of Arsenal. He was a real hard man, but he’s written in the book that when they played Leeds they had to get stuck in and that’s what made him a hard man. But they only played Leeds twice a year! What about when he was having a go at Bobby Charlton or Martin Peters or other players he kicked? It’s nonsense and it’s unfair. I can accept the criticism of Leeds being a rough team, which at times we were – like everybody else. But they never say we were a great team with great players. We don’t get the credit for that. The criticism isn’t balanced.
You objected to your portrayal in the book The Damned United by David Peace about Brian Clough’s short tenure at Leeds. What upset you most?
I thought the book was outrageous. I think a book should be either fact or fiction. What this guy did was he took the events of Clough’s 44 days at Leeds and wrote his interpretation of what happened. Anybody who does that is making it up. What I thought was wrong was that he portrayed myself, Don Revie, Brian Clough and others in conversations that never happened! He portrayed me as a scheming Irishman trying to get rid of Clough. That wasn’t true. He also portrayed Clough as a raving lunatic – which he wasn’t. I didn’t get on with him, but to my mind Clough was a genius of a manager. He was brilliant at Nottingham Forest and at Derby County. But this guy had him chopping up Don Revie’s desk, drinking, which he wasn’t at the time. It was an awful portrayal. I felt sorry for the Clough family because they couldn’t take any action, so I thought the book was very, very unfair on a lot of people. So I took action against it, maybe as a protest for people who couldn’t. Like Don Revie, Brian Clough, Billy Bremner and others who were dead by then.
What happened with your legal action?
Well, it never went to court because they removed from the book anything I objected to. Then they made the movie, which is even worse! The movie was based on misinterpretations of the misinterpretations that were in the book! It was factually all over the place.
Did you see the film?
I did. As a movie it was OK. But Dave Mackay took action against them. He was a great player but they portrayed him in the movie as not signing a petition to get Brian Clough back to the club, but Dave had left the club two years previous to these events happening! It had Leeds players getting out of the coach with the superstition that it had to be a hundred yards from the ground. But you couldn’t do that in those days! You could be killed!
So it must have been poorly researched.
It wasn’t researched at all. If the guy writing the book wanted to do research he could have spoken to people like myself who were involved at the time.
Why did it all collapse so quickly on Clough?
Well, it never got off to a start at all. He had been very, very critical of the Leeds team for years before he was appointed manager. In our approach to the game we were coming from different planets. In his first meeting with the players he said, “Right, you effin’ lot, as far as I’m concerned you can take your effin’ medals and throw them in that effin’ bin over there” (laughs). It’s hardly a great way to start a relationship or get players on your side. He never got off first base with the players.
So it was doomed from the start?
I think so, yeah. My take on it was that the directors could have kept Don Revie on as manager if they’d wanted to. The more successful a manager becomes on the pitch, the more power he gets in the dressing room, and Don was very successful on the pitch. In that situation, the directors become redundant. Don didn’t treat them very well and I don’t think they liked him and so they wanted him out when he was approached by England’s national team. I think they could have kept him but didn’t want to. They had control over his wages. He told me he was on £15,000 a year, which was buttons given the success he’d achieved. He actually recommended me for the job, but I knew that the last person who was going to get the job was the man Don recommended. It was more likely to go to the last person he’d recommend!
Would you have wanted the job?
Not particularly, no. I was only 33 at the time and I wanted to play football, not become a manager. I never had any regrets about that.
Do you regret not being around for the big salary days?
No. When I was playing, money was never the goal. We got reasonable money, but nothing like what the lads get today. You don’t think of the money when you’re playing. It’s only when you retire. But good luck to the lads today. I think it’s gone overboard on the players’ side as far as the money’s concerned. But in my day the clubs were mean with the players.
It’s like the players were at the bottom of the pyramid back then.
Oh yeah. There was no freedom of contract which is the big reason the players can make the big money today. In my day, if you signed for a team at 17 you could be tied to that club for life.
What did you make of the recent Rooney saga, the whole dithering over whether he wanted to leave United or stay?
It was a mess.
At one point he said he wanted to go and that there was no turning back.
Yeah, I thought he was gone at that stage. I think there was a big climb-down. He’s come out since and said he’d no intention of going but I don’t believe that.
You don’t?
No. I don’t believe that.
What do you think happened?
You see, in my day, I dealt with Don Revie, the manager, direct. There were no big deals anyway. What happens now... my take on the Rooney thing would be that Rooney made a statement months ago saying he loved the club and wanted to finish his career there. I think that was a bad move from a business point of view because the people at the club would think: that’s great, he wants to stay so we won’t have to offer him as much as we thought. I reckon Ferguson didn’t come into the negotiations, it would be Rooney’s people and David Gill, the CEO at United who would be in talks.
So there was a lot of game-playing going on?
Oh, definitely. Ferguson is the type who would say, “OK, I’ll leave it to you, Mr Gill to come to terms with this guy”. And Rooney would leave it to his people. So there’d be no contact between Rooney and Ferguson, the two men that mattered! That could give Rooney’s agents an opportunity to say, “we’re not signing” and look elsewhere. They could say to Rooney, “we can’t come to terms with this guy, but we have something lined up at Manchester City for X money and you have to tell him you want to go.” Ferguson would come into it then.
Would it be unfair to think that Rooney would have gone to wherever the biggest offer was?
I think he would have gone. Rooney would be an innocent guy in many ways, like most footballers are and like we all were. But he’d be under huge influence from the people around him.
So if Manchester City had made the biggest offer he would have taken it?
Oh yeah, I think he was on his way. He and his people were too adamant about moving without having something lined up. You see, the agents make the big money when the players move. Apparently, the move to Manchester City was potentially worth about five or six million to the agents. That’s what’s going on today.
Eamon Dunphy seems less volatile these days. Is that age or have you and Liam Brady had a calming influence on him?
It’s probably age (laughs). I don’t think myself or Liam have any influence on him like that.
Are you still mates?
Oh yeah. We enjoy the punditry and the skirmishes. We can have a bit of fun at times. It’s usually very enjoyable.
Are any of your exchanges on the TV set-up, like if you say that then I can say this?
No. No. No. If it was contrived in any way it wouldn’t work. It’s spontaneous. It has to be.
What about the referees strike in Scotland? Was that something that had to happen sooner or later?
I don’t blame them, with all the diving and feigning of injuries, the criticisms from the managers. Referees are the butt of every criticism. When a team loses, afterwards all you hear about from the manager are complaints about the referee. Nobody’s taking responsibility. Ferguson insisted that Ronaldo never dived. Mourinho had Drogba. Wenger had quite a few. Yet they all said we had to get rid of diving!
So the referee is just the scapegoat for the team not winning?
Oh, yeah. Lots of times.
What was the relationship with referees when you were playing?
It was different. Referees didn’t have to put up with feigning injury and diving. It used to be easier for referees in many ways in my day. We didn’t have the television coverage of a referee’s mistakes. Back then maybe only two matches would be covered on TV, whereas now they’re all covered.
So how can they stop this?
First of all, players will have to take responsibility. Managers will also have to take responsibility for disciplining their players. But they’re not.
Finally, I always thought of you as Johnny Giles but you seem to prefer John. What’s that about?
It might look like a bit of an affectation but it’s not. I’ve always called myself John and even to this day my family all call me John. It was only when I started playing football that people began to be called Johnny. My mother hated me being called Johnny! But it’s not something I think too much about one way or the other.

A Football Man - The Autobiography by John Giles is published by Hachette Books Ireland and retails at €22.99/£19.99.