Jack Charlton Passes Away

CatullusV

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LMFAO .. You must have been bloody quick ..

Here, are you 100% sure you weren't the ref :unsure: :confused: 😂
I was very quick. I had to be. Once I started playing adult football I was sunk. Any decent experienced defender had the measure of me pretty quickly and I didn't have the same supply that I needed.

I'm not sure whether or not I'm getting this across correctly. I did point all of this out, though. I was not good with the ball at my feet; I needed to run onto it; I was quick and a very good finisher; I had no physical game whatsoever and was utterly awful in the air. The one trick pony I described. A crap footballer in almost every sense. But the one trick worked for a while. There is no point whatever in having someone who can't be disruptive up front or is ineffective when tracking back and cannot win the ball back in midfield. No team can afford that. They're playing with ten in that case. Still, I was enthusiastic.
 


AhNowStop

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I was very quick. I had to be. Once I started playing adult football I was sunk. Any decent experienced defender had the measure of me pretty quickly and I didn't have the same supply that I needed.

I'm not sure whether or not I'm getting this across correctly. I did point all of this out, though. I was not good with the ball at my feet; I needed to run onto it; I was quick and a very good finisher; I had no physical game whatsoever and was utterly awful in the air. The one trick pony I described. A crap footballer in almost every sense. But the one trick worked for a while. There is no point whatever in having someone who can't be disruptive up front or is ineffective when tracking back and cannot win the ball back in midfield. No team can afford that. They're playing with ten in that case. Still, I was enthusiastic.
lmfao .. Ah man you're deadly craic 😂😂

btw did ye ever give Rugby or Hurling a go? :unsure: :confused: :oops:
 

CatullusV

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lmfao .. Ah man you're deadly craic 😂😂

btw did ye ever give Rugby or Hurling a go? :unsure: :confused: :oops:
I played hurling at school. Again, because of my early development I wasn't bad at it. Maybe that early development meant that I never had to learn the basic skill of remaining vertical. As I say, everyone caught up with, and exceeded, my early physical edge. Suddenly I had no game to speak of.

I'm only slightly exaggerating here. You can't expect to walk on the pitch without being able to resist and defend against some physicality. It's in the lifeblood of soccer, and an essential part of it. I had some capacity to resist it, but only some.

Where I am not exaggerating is as to my "power" in the air. In my time I scored one goal with my head and that was from a deflected corner. Noone was more surprised than myself. My last game was a game against a team of thugs who played in Finglas. This was way down the league structure. In the first few minutes a long ball came in my direction. I went up forlornly for it, hoping to least be able to not it back to the midfield which was chasing it. Their full-back didn't challenge for the ball in the least. Instead he took the opportunity to nut me on my ear. There was blood involved. I was patched up and played on.

After the match he bought me a pint as his teammates explained that one of his tactics was to impose himself immediately on any opponent in sight. He was an affable guy and we got on well. That was his game and he loved it and they loved him. We parted in the usual good terms. He was no Paul McGrath, but he was playing his way, and he loved the game.

That week I headed to Africa for a few months and I never picked up the threads of my game on my sporadic returns. That was, what, '87? The only soccer I ever played since then was indoor 5-a-side, which was far more suitable to me. I still miss those days. There is no routine quite like washing your gear, ready for the weekend.
 

AhNowStop

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I played hurling at school. Again, because of my early development I wasn't bad at it. Maybe that early development meant that I never had to learn the basic skill of remaining vertical. As I say, everyone caught up with, and exceeded, my early physical edge. Suddenly I had no game to speak of.

I'm only slightly exaggerating here. You can't expect to walk on the pitch without being able to resist and defend against some physicality. It's in the lifeblood of soccer, and an essential part of it. I had some capacity to resist it, but only some.

Where I am not exaggerating is as to my "power" in the air. In my time I scored one goal with my head and that was from a deflected corner. Noone was more surprised than myself. My last game was a game against a team of thugs who played in Finglas. This was way down the league structure. In the first few minutes a long ball came in my direction. I went up forlornly for it, hoping to least be able to not it back to the midfield which was chasing it. Their full-back didn't challenge for the ball in the least. Instead he took the opportunity to nut me on my ear. There was blood involved. I was patched up and played on.

After the match he bought me a pint as his teammates explained that one of his tactics was to impose himself immediately on any opponent in sight. He was an affable guy and we got on well. That was his game and he loved it and they loved him. We parted in the usual good terms. He was no Paul McGrath, but he was playing his way, and he loved the game.

That week I headed to Africa for a few months and I never picked up the threads of my game on my sporadic returns. That was, what, '87? The only soccer I ever played since then was indoor 5-a-side, which was far more suitable to me. I still miss those days. There is no routine quite like washing your gear, ready for the weekend.
Yeah there are always a few early springers who get caught up to at around 16-18 and lose that edge they once had .. That's a good point you make about maybe not having the skills for the rough & tumble because you maybe never developed them as you didnt really need them early on .. good point! .. I'd say that could happen a lot


But yeah sport is great, of any sort really .. I've always been a Gaelic man and although ok I was no big shake myself ... always was a batter spectator than player :cool:

I do believe you need something to scare the sh1te outta ya every once in a while and horse riding does that for me .. and I dont have to try and act the big fella as Im always sitting on the big fella :oops:

edit - that last lines just doesn't sound right at all :oops: .. please read in context :confused:
 
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Round tower

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I played hurling at school. Again, because of my early development I wasn't bad at it. Maybe that early development meant that I never had to learn the basic skill of remaining vertical. As I say, everyone caught up with, and exceeded, my early physical edge. Suddenly I had no game to speak of.

I'm only slightly exaggerating here. You can't expect to walk on the pitch without being able to resist and defend against some physicality. It's in the lifeblood of soccer, and an essential part of it. I had some capacity to resist it, but only some.

Where I am not exaggerating is as to my "power" in the air. In my time I scored one goal with my head and that was from a deflected corner. Noone was more surprised than myself. My last game was a game against a team of thugs who played in Finglas. This was way down the league structure. In the first few minutes a long ball came in my direction. I went up forlornly for it, hoping to least be able to not it back to the midfield which was chasing it. Their full-back didn't challenge for the ball in the least. Instead he took the opportunity to nut me on my ear. There was blood involved. I was patched up and played on.

After the match he bought me a pint as his teammates explained that one of his tactics was to impose himself immediately on any opponent in sight. He was an affable guy and we got on well. That was his game and he loved it and they loved him. We parted in the usual good terms. He was no Paul McGrath, but he was playing his way, and he loved the game.

That week I headed to Africa for a few months and I never picked up the threads of my game on my sporadic returns. That was, what, '87? The only soccer I ever played since then was indoor 5-a-side, which was far more suitable to me. I still miss those days. There is no routine quite like washing your gear, ready for the weekend.
He was probably around for a while and one who liked to get a good tough tackle i eearly, that in the PL would probably be a foul but at ameteur level legal.
 

CatullusV

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He was probably around for a while and one who liked to get a good tough tackle i eearly, that in the PL would probably be a foul but at ameteur level legal.
Exactly. Get in a good clatter early on. The thing was that off the pitch he was a really nice guy and we had a good natter. He was also one of those players of a type I'd seen frequently at that level. Patently unfit and relying on his reading of the game - probably an experience gained from earlier glory days. He read the game like a book. He had two yards on me before I reacted. In tight situations that completely nullified any advantage I had in pace.

I recall him and his type with some affection. Every team at club level needs someone like him.
 

Round tower

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Exactly. Get in a good clatter early on. The thing was that off the pitch he was a really nice guy and we had a good natter. He was also one of those players of a type I'd seen frequently at that level. Patently unfit and relying on his reading of the game - probably an experience gained from earlier glory days. He read the game like a book. He had two yards on me before I reacted. In tight situations that completely nullified any advantage I had in pace.

I recall him and his type with some affection. Every team at club level needs someone like him.
Most fellas are once a game is over it's all forgotten. That was something u don't see anymore definetaly here in the Mayo league and summer soccer is the going back to the pub of the club u were playing. Often for a couple of pints +, i remember back in 010, we won the league and the team we beat would have still being in contention if they won. They spent 4 or 5 hours celebrating our league title.
 

CatullusV

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Most fellas are once a game is over it's all forgotten. That was something u don't see anymore definetaly here in the Mayo league and summer soccer is the going back to the pub of the club u were playing. Often for a couple of pints +, i remember back in 010, we won the league and the team we beat would have still being in contention if they won. They spent 4 or 5 hours celebrating our league title.
Yup. I've had some great experiences after the match. Most players leave it behind them on the pitch.

I remember one particular hockey match where our captain basically spent the match knocking lumps off the player he was marking. His opponent was engaged in the same activity. The match was played on a beautiful September day, i.e. on a pristine dry pitch. As we left the pitch all of us were untainted by clay. Maybe a little bit sweaty. Those two looked liked like they had been mud wrestling in a pit with doberman dogs.

After I had showered I went to the bar. The two of them were thick as thieves in a corner, beering and having a grand time.

As it should be.
 

Dorris

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I was on O'Connell St in 88 and 90 for the homecomings, it sure made up for being deserted during the matches on those two afternoons.....
Charlton was a great guy, and a great manager. Sure we had good players, but he went to the 1986 World Cup as a pundit, observed that every team played pretty much the same way in playing it out from the back and giving it to a No.10 who'd come deep and start the play from there, and correctly reasoned that if everyone did that then the team with the best players would come through every time. So he did it differently. And it wasn't actually long-ball football in the crudest sense, where you thumped it up to the centre-forward who flicked it on and hoped it fell for someone - the long balls were generally played from our full backs in behind the opposing full backs, who then had to play when under pressure and facing their own goal. Invariably they either gave it away or put it out for a throw, and from there we played proper football. Also, whenever you hear those who imply that football basically began in 1992 with the Premier League, saying that Guardiola or Klopp invented pressing up to win the ball back in the few seconds immediately after losing it, just take a look at those Euro 88 or Italia 90 games, or indeed any of the qualifiers at Lansdowne.
He was clever about more than football though - every pub in Ireland that he went into (and there were many), he'd always buy drinks for the house, and pay by cheque. Invariably the landlord would be so chuffed that he'd had Jack in that he'd frame the cheque and put it on the wall - meaning it never got cashed.....

The cheque story is not true!!
 


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