One of the chapters in Andy Moran’s recently published autobiography might provide the best insight into the style of manager he intends to be over the next few seasons.
ased around two footballers Moran played with in Mayo, the chapter is called ‘Don’t Be Afraid Of The Maverick’.
One of those players the title refers to is Ciarán McDonald. The other is Aidan O’Shea.
“Two guys,” he wrote, “who once you saw them play, you got immediately excited at the prospect of playing with them, testing yourself against them, and learning off them.”
Moran doesn’t quite go so far as to say that Mayo failed McDonald and O’Shea.
But he does consider the question of whether the football culture in Mayo prevented them – both the players and the county – from realising their potential and salted the soil for growth of more of this style of player.
In Mayo, Moran posits, there is an underlying suspicion of the maverick. The individualist. Someone who doesn’t naturally espouse the virtues of tough graft and hard running in every waking second.
Rather than embracing and nurturing these players for what they have, the tendency is more often to point out what they don’t do. Or at least, don’t do well or by habit.
In contemporary inter-county culture, the player that doesn’t work like a Siberian husky is often observed as failing to get the best out of themselves.
Generally, that’s interpreted as a graver defect than the player who runs endlessly but doesn’t have the same skillset or inherent talent.
In Mayo over the past decade, the proliferation of athletic, hard-grafting half-backs against the relative lack of high-spec creative players would seem to go some way to proving Moran’s point.
Lee Keegan. Colm Boyle. Donie Vaughan. These are players the Mayo footballing public can set their watches to. Their value can be measured in yards and tackles. They can be trusted.
McDonald and O’Shea? There’s no GPS reading for sprinklings of magic dust.
Moran’s theory is that the alchemy required for a successful team blends the personalities of each of its elements, rather than forcing them all to conform to the same behaviour, to adhere to a trusted, non-negotiable set of values.
“My aim now,” he explained in a recent interview, “moving into coaching, is let’s see what their personality and agenda is and then try to go after that, because it’s probably something we have failed at in Mayo.
“I have seen numerous inside forwards with high quality that we probably called a tiny bit lazy at the time, but they weren’t.
“They were just different. They just wanted to score, so just let them score.”
Whatever else at his disposal in Leitrim now, Moran has a blank sheet.
Last year, when asked the desired profile for their next manager, Leitrim’s players were quickly able to agree on and relate to the county board what they didn’t want.
No journey men.
A broad request, their sentiment was clear and it ruled out a few automatic candidates.
Leitrim, the players felt strongly, couldn’t just be another step for an experienced figure with grander designs, a CV that needed filling out, or – whisper it – a quick buck.
They craved something different.
On July 15, Terry Hyland stepped down after three years in charge.
On October 7, Moran, whose name had also been linked with the vacant Longford job, was ratified by the Leitrim county board.
That it took three months to make their appointment says more about Leitrim’s thoroughness and their regard for the players’ wishes than any lack of urgency.
A sub-committee, headed by former Dublin county board chairman Seán Shanley, led the process. In that time, figures such as Declan Darcy and Kevin Walsh were sounded out.
But Moran was always foremost in their thoughts and for both parties, it felt a snug fit once he conquered the initial apprehension.
“When you are first rang for one of these jobs, and you haven’t done one before, you’re thinking, ‘Am I good enough? Can I do it?’ You go away, assess yourself and then come back,” Moran explained two weeks after his appointment, when he made his first official appearance in Carrick-On-Shannon for the Leitrim SFC final, a brilliant contest between Ballinamore and Mohill.
Inevitably, one of those he sought council from was John O’Mahony.
When Moran and some clubmates first went to trials for Mayo at underage level, they did so equipped with a prepared excuse.
They were from Ballaghadereen. A border town. In the minds of some Mayo people, they were ‘Rossies’.
O’Mahony told them that that was nonsense. If they wanted something, it would be there for them if they went after it.
If they had any further questions, he had a Connacht title with Leitrim and two All-Irelands as Galway manager to prove it.
Spinning the sort of miracles O’Mahony managed in Leitrim might be above Moran’s abilities here. It’s 11 years since they beat someone other than New York or London in Connacht.
But in a county badly needing a vision to harness famously scant playing resources, the application of his manifesto will make for interesting viewing.