An Irishman's Diary

IT’S ONLY right that a Scotsman should be leading Liverpool Football Club’s latest revival. Scottish managers have been responsible for most of the reds’ greatest achievements, including the 1978 European Cup final when, under the guidance of Bob Paisley, the man now in charge scored the winning goal. But perhaps the Tartan Army will excuse me while I pull rank for a moment and point out that the manager who started it all was Irish, and from my own Co Monaghan to boot.

John McKenna his name was, or “Honest John McKenna” as he became known. And although he was officially a joint-manager with the designation of “secretary”, he was for several seasons the de facto boss of the team that emerged from a split with its older rival, Everton, in 1892. His nickname apart, it’s another measure of the respect he subsequently earned that when he died 75 years ago, in 1936, it caused a rare display of unity in that colour-divided city.

He was by then at least as well-known for his role in the administration of the game at English national level, so that tributes included a wreath from the German football federation to “a man we have always loved and respected”.

But clearly he had bridged even deeper rifts than the one between England and Germany. The Everton chairman – a lifelong friend – gave the oration at his funeral, describing McKenna as “the greatest man in football”. And to underline the sporting ecumenism, three players from each of the rival clubs carried his coffin.

McKenna is still well-remembered at Anfield, where a plaque records his role in the club’s founding years. He is, however, largely forgotten in the country and county of his birth, although not perhaps for much longer.

A Monaghan-born Liverpool diehard called David Moen had long been aware of the connection and taken passive pride in it. Then last year, he read about how Enniscorthy had erected a plaque to its own Liverpool great, Billy Lacey (sometimes described as the first Republic of Ireland player to wear the red shirt, although that distinction would involve pre-dating the Republic, and the Border, to 1912).

Since when, David has been on the case of having McKenna similarly honoured. Not only is he campaigning to see a plaque erected somewhere suitable, he would also like to have McKenna commemorated with that quintessential piece of managerial furniture: a bench. There’s one in memory of Bob Paisley in the Liverpool cemetery where he was buried. Moen would like to see a similar tribute in Glaslough Churchyard, where McKenna’s parents wed.

AMONGthe Monaghan man's achievements as manager, incidentally, is a record that survived even the Paisley era, when the club reached its greatest glories. During the 1895/96 season, en route to promotion from the old Division Two, a McKenna-led Liverpool beat Rotherham Town 10-1, still the club's biggest victory in domestic soccer.

Another of his achievements that, to my knowledge, none of his Scottish successors have emulated was fielding a team composed entirely of Scots. It included a “McVean”, a “McLean”, and more than one “McQueen”, although perhaps to prevent the entire side from rhyming, there were also a McBride, a McCartney, a McOwen, and a McQue. They were known, not surprisingly, as the “team of macs”. And curiously enough, not one was from McKenna’s home country.

But probably his greatest managerial achievement was taking the club into the Football League in the first place, and then twice winning promotion to Division One (with a relegation in between, made all the more ignominious by including a 3-0 defeat against Everton). Thereafter, like many great men, McKenna recognised his own limitations and acted accordingly. Having first secured the services of the greatest manager of his era – Sunderland’s Tom Watson – to replace him, he moved on to the administrative role that came to define his career: first with the club and later England.

It was in off-field management that McKenna oversaw the development of Anfield’s Walton Breck Road end into what became the famous Kop. And by the time he officially opened a now covered and extended Kop in 1928, he had risen to be a full-time president of the English football league – half a century after emigrating to Liverpool and starting work as a grocer’s assistant.

He was not, of course, unusual in leaving Monaghan for Merseyside in the 1870s. Around the same time, a near-namesake of David Moen’s – Owen Mohin (later Mohan) – left the same county for the same destination. A daughter of his would subsequently marry a McCartney and have a son called Paul, who would go on to make quite a contribution to Liverpool life.

Coincidentally, in later years, the same McCartney would also visit a Glaslough churchyard, to get married. So if the McKenna commemoration does come to pass, with perhaps Kenny Dalglish coming over to unveil it, it will not be the village’s first brush with Liverpool celebrity. Sadly, the McCartney-Mills union proved to be a match of two halves. It’s to be hoped that the results of the next opening ceremony will be more enduring.