THE drink culture in Irish soccer is woven into the fabric of our players -- and successive Irish managers have had to deal with it.

Every boss from Liam Tuohy, the first man to be granted sole selection powers by the FAI, knew the value of letting the boys off the leash -- at the right time.

And that was repeated through the reigns of John Giles, Eoin Hand, Jack Charlton, Mick McCarthy, Brian Kerr and Steve Staunton.

Tuohy took over from Mick Meagan in 1971, and used his native Dublin wit and football nous to bring consistency and unity to a squad which previously depended on the whims of a selection committee.

In those days, players featured in English League games on Saturday, and for home matches, travelled overnight to play a match in Dublin on the Sunday.

Managers of League clubs were reluctant to release their star players to the Republic, and Tuohy did his best to arrange for international games to be played as often as possible on a Wednesday.

Post match, it was time for songs, pints, and craic, and for the Irish players to enjoy themselves before returning to their clubs on a Thursday.

But Giles brought a new measure of organisation to the team on the pitch, and during his years -- '73-'79 -- in charge, the emergence of rising stars such as Liam Brady, Frank Stapleton and Dave O'Leary helped weld the Irish team into a side that could genuinely contend in qualifying series.

Off the field, when the final whistle blew, there was a scramble to get to Dublin's Central Hotel or the Green Isle where, as former international Ray Treacy recalls, some of the finest Irish musical talent would join the players and their friends for memorable boozy nights.

"Amongst some of the greats were Luke Kelly, Ronnie Drew, the Wolfe Tones, particularly Tommy Byrne, Patsy Watchorn, Paddy Reilly, Danny Doyle, the Furey Brothers, Joe Dolan and later, Mary Black.

"I remember the late Jim Aiken, the showbiz promoter stopping me after a match and saying 'Treacy, I heard about a concert that you lads put on. Do you realise it would cost me half a million quid to get that gang on stage at one venue, and you have them there for nothing!"

He added: "Luke Kelly taught me three chords and I played the banjo. I had my repertoire, and most of the lads had their song.

"Mick Martin would sing 'Step it out Mary' and Gilesy's tune was 'Don't Cry for me Argentina'.

"But the point was we were professional with it. There was no messing before the game.

"Once the match was over it was time to get together and give it a lash and that definitely helped to bond a team that was always underdogs.

"If someone overdid it, or got a bit out of order, they'd be looked after and brought back into line.

"The way it was you couldn't wait to get over to join the squad for an international week. And when the bus rolled up at Dalymount we'd have it timed so we'd be finished 'A Nation Once Again' just as the bus got to the bottom of the lane at the ground.

"You'd get out ready to take on anyone. The result didn't always work out but we gave it everything we had on the pitch."

Hand's team had a core of the same players inherited from Giles, but the songs and post-game craic remained on the agenda.

Charlton worked the players hard when they were preparing for the European Championships in 1988, but on a couple of occasions he let the lads enjoy a few pints in Germany -- then ran them into the ground the next day.

As one of the media people who was with the team for that memorable victory over England in Stuttgart, I will never forget the party that took place back at our base -- and Liam Brady danced and caroused with the best of them.

But Charlton ordered curfew at midnight -- and Brady, sadly denied a chance to play in the finals by injury and suspension, was the first to start ushering players up to their rooms.

On a later occasion, Charlton brought the squad to Harry Ramsdens chipper where they had a feed of the kind of grease-laden carbo-loading that would horrify current boss, Giovanni Trapattoni.

Mick McCarthy had been part of the Hand and Charlton era, and like Brian Kerr later and Staunton, appreciated the usefulness of post-match relaxation.

Unfortunately for McCarthy, his plan for Rest and Recuperation in Saipan didn't go the way he planned when the Roy Keane debacle blew up in 2002.

Kerr and the late Noel O'Reilly let the guitars strum and the songs ring out over a few pints for the players, and Staunton had the same attitude.

Trapattoni has tightened up on the food intake and will probably do the same with the beer now that the Wiesbaden event has caused such a furore.

The question is: can Trap find a balance that blends Italian organisation and durability with Irish fire and fury? Only time will tell.

- Liam Kelly