Gavin Cummiskeyis part of the audience as the Ireland manager answers the questions that no one has asked
AN INTERESTING morning lecture. The day after the night before, when it appeared, from the pressbox at least, Ireland have grown comfortable with their new, albeit ultra-conservative, formation.
However, the 1-0 win over Cyprus had the students who loitered around the National College of Ireland on Mayor Street in the IFSC grumbling about a poor performance. The fickleness of the Irish supporter should infuriate Giovanni Trapattoni but, you see, the Italian maestro doesn't appear to care what people say. He's too old. He's nurtured too many teams back to health to be bothered by the public or its mouthpiece, the media.
Within moments of Trapattoni's arrival the packed audience was straining to hear his every word. He is charismatic, no doubt, but his broken English forces everyone to lean in a little closer. Even then it can prove futile.
Fair play to Newstalk FM journalist Ger Gilroy for keeping the QA session afloat.
Of course, Trapattoni's charming translator, Manuela Spinelli (no pun intended by abbreviating her surname), was on hand when the Ireland manager lapsed into his native tongue.
Entitled Legends in Your Lunchtime, this leadership lecture series is a joint venture by Newstalk, Metroand the NUI.
It was not so much a case of lost in translation but rather, as any Ireland football reporter can now attest, lost in Trapattoni's pigeon English. There were still a few gems to be garnered, but a now familiar pattern emerged. Trapattoni is asked a question, Manuela translates, he supplies an answer alien to the actual question.
Or he starts what promises to be a great yarn only for the punchline to be so garbled everyone is left scratching their heads.
We move on quickly to avoid embarrassment. And yet, he makes more sense than Steve Staunton. He gets the important points across. He is also getting results.
Speaking in the third person, he says: "Trapattoni don't speak the language but (ironically dropping into Italian) . . . but people understand him!" Manuela explains.
Gilroy, or "Gerry" as Trapattoni christened him, has dealt with far worse interviewees, and he managed to keep the leadership subject on the agenda.
"The situation comes naturally to me because I love to teach the young. It pleases me to teach other people," said Trapattoni, before adding a note of caution on inflated expectations. "Many times I say I'm not God. I don't have answers for everything. You learn what I teach you . . . (sentence ends with hand gestures and silence)."
We moved on and sure enough, a great line follows: "I like messing around with the press. When I use a sentence I use a lot of metaphors and they don't understand. In Germany I used to say it's just 90 minutes of football, it is not a war!" The room explodes in laughter.
At 69, he talked about constantly keeping the mind active and how nothing in life comes for free. "Everything you get there is a price. That is life."
He is asked about managing the modern player. "True, the growth of money and media hype has made it more difficult because the players are money-making machines, like a business. They are labelled. Beckham! In the past you play (or) you don't play."
Questions were opened to the floor. It doesn't go well.
Over the next few weeks a string of chief executives and Bill Cullen will follow Trapattoni. And George Hook will go toe-to-toe with British Airways boss Willie Walsh next Monday.
Miles outside the realm of sport, so we'll leave it to the students.