Paul McGrath: The Fall and Rise of the Irish Legend and Flawed Genius

I remember one day, not too long ago, receiving a phone call from my father. Expecting a very different outcome, I gingerly answered.

"Are you coming for a pint?" he asked.

"Ah I'm a fairly busy Dad, I might pop up in a while if I get the time."

"Believe me, come up now!" he exploded.

So I did, knowing my father does not excite so easily over having a drink with his son!

Entering the pub, I was met with the sound of laughter and the sight of a giant man sitting beside my father. Dark jeans, a big leather jacket, and a close-cropped haircut; I didn't quite know who he was until I stood beside the man once hailed "God" by Aston Villa fans.

I looked into the big brown eyes of one of the greatest players to grace the game.

Not only a “God” for Aston Villa, but for my beloved Manchester United and Republic of Ireland. A player who was typical of footballers back then, who played hard on the field and played hard off it; a game galaxies away from the standard nowadays containing metro-sexual males like Cristiano Ronaldo.

McGrath was part of an elite hard men contingent such as Bryan Robson, Steve Bruce, and Norman Whitside.

He and my father both turned and looked at me, a smile cracking on my dad's face knowing I was feeling the equivalent of shell shock. Paul McGrath turned and put a big arm round me saying, "Well mate".

And that’s how the night started. My dad, Paul McGrath, and me.

He talked of Alex Ferguson. Of Manchester United. Of Aston Villa. Of Ireland. Of his life...and this is what he told me.

Paul McGrath was born on the 4th of December, 1959 to an Irish mother and a Nigerian father. Soon after he was born, his father fled the scene, leaving his fearful mother to confide in her only option—putting Paul up for adoption. McGrath was raised in various tough orphanages throughout Dublin, the grim photos of which can still be seen today.

McGrath endured an even more tough time during his youth due to the fact that he was black, something so uncommon in Ireland at the time, that it caused heads to turn at the sight of such a rarity.

However, McGrath proved that he was more than just a rarity—being an ethnic minority—but also a very special talent on the football pitch, even as a youngster.

His first club, Pearse Rovers, were the first to experience his raw but still extraordinary talents. To put it simply, Paul McGrath was a behemoth on the pitch. At 16 years of age, he was unbelievably quick for a boy who was obviously quite large.

He was fearless in both the air and in the tackle. Not long after, and although Pearse had always treated Paul well, he moved onto Dalkey United in hope of career progression. Dalkey sourced him a place to stay and a job in which to help provide for himself. Throughout the club, he found great friends who stayed loyal to him for many years.

It was while McGrath was with Dalkey that he attracted the attention of Manchester United’s chief scout at the time, Billy Behan, who constantly sent back glowing reviews of the defender to then United manager, Ron Atkinson.

A trip with Dalkey to Germany opened a door in McGrath’s life that would forever change the course of his playing career and his general well-being. Dalkey were scheduled to play friendlies in Germany at the time; however, McGrath and a few other players, decided to have a few drinks while out of sight of the club's authorities.

A teenage McGrath placed his lips over a bottle of Southern Comfort and from that day forth, the warm, burning feeling that filled the troubled man’s body would always seek to be renewed. That was the day Paul McGrath found the alcoholic within him and fuelled it.

The problem would continue to become worse and worse. Two months after returning from the Germany tour, McGrath suffered a severe mental breakdown, rendering him speechless and seemingly unaware of where he was.

He was admitted to a hospital for several months before he was reunited with his mother and finally came round, and slowly but surely found his feet back on the football pitch where he was born to be.

Finding his form for Dalkey once again, he secured a move to St. Patrick's Athletic, becoming a full time professional in 1981. It was at St. Pat’s that McGrath finally showed why Manchester United were interested in securing the services of the titan-like Irish man.

Throughout the season, McGrath performed perfectly, receiving the PFAI Player of the Season award and scoring four goals in his 31 appearances, before finally earning his move to the English giants that had watched him so closely over the years—Man United.

Now before I tell you anymore of Paul McGrath’s story, let me shed some light on his character, which is so essential in understanding why the paths of his life turned the directions that they did.

Paul McGrath was born to play football. He was graceful, yet tough. Skillful, yet not over-indulgent in his style of play. He was quicker than most strikers and wingers, and contained what team-mate Kevin Moran called an overdrive, or “the ability to be running at high pace with someone and, all of a sudden, it's like a fifth gear kicks in".

Yes, along with his fantastic aerial ability, it’s true to say that McGrath was one of the best defenders to grace the game.

However, McGrath’s problems only surfaced off the pitch. Like George Best, McGrath’s troubles echoed the Northen Irishman's. He suffered from a shyness that only increased as his fame did.

A prime example is when he was at the top of his game at Manchester United. Asked to man-mark Alan Shearer for the game (arguably one of the best strikers to grace the English game), McGrath merely shrugged, choosing to see it as just another job that had to be done.

That game he dominated Shearer, receiving yet another man of the match vote. However, when asked to present medals to a local schoolboys' team, McGrath could not physically do it.

That’s how bad the shyness or paranoia stretched, which in turn leads us to our solution, or rather McGrath’s form of solution, that again echoed Best and in today’s times, Adriano. McGrath used alcohol to find his way through periods of his life that a sober McGrath could not possibly face.

Anyway, I digress.

At Manchester United, his legend grew. Under Ron Atkinson, McGrath was deployed as both a defender and midfielder, but performed both to the highest level.

In the 85/86 season, he pushed Gary Lineker for the PFA Player of the Year award but did grab his one and only honour at Man United, the FA cup, when they defeated Everton in a one-nil win—McGrath being named man of the match.

At this time however, the demon within Paul was starting to rise again as a result of both his childhood and of course (and more importantly), the significant drinking culture that dominated football in those days, before nutritionists and fitness experts entered the beautiful game on a more important basis.

McGrath would often be spotted in the pub after a game with his favourite drinking comrade and equally talented, Norman Whiteside. However, the drinking situation was to become worse.

McGrath, with his ever increasing fear of the limelight, consumed more and more alcohol on a more regular basis, often turning up training drunk or even at his lowest point—playing important matches while under the influence of alcohol.

McGrath often attended the team meals etc. drunk, or refused to leave the hotel unless he had a strong drink, more often than not leading to one of his team-mates finding McGrath blinded drunk. One of his lowest points while playing drunk was, while about to take a free kick, he totally missed the ball.

But guess what? Manchester United manager, Ron Atkinson, let it slide. Why? For two amazing yet very real reasons.

One, it was tolerated because as long as a player turned up on a Saturday afternoon and played, all else was tolerated outside life on the pitch.

Reason No. 2 however, was equally disturbing even for the footballing culture back then. McGrath, even under the influence, was often still the best player on the pitch.

Frank Stapleton once said of him “People tolerated what Paul did because they were getting something out when he played football which was the wrong thing to do. Maybe the problem was that he was too good a player. Probably was.”

However, this trend was to but end at Manchester United, when Alex Ferguson replaced Ron Atkinson. As soon as entering the fray as boss of the Red Devils, Ferguson sought to weed the club of those who thought drinking was as much a part of football as the grass on which it was played. At the top of that list was Paul McGrath.

Alex Ferguson however, knew the Irishman’s worth and sought to give him a few chances to show Fergie that he could be relied on.

McGrath, as would happen to become a pattern within his life, let the gaffer down by refusing to adapt to the new manager's ethos. This, along with a string of knee injuries and multiple surgeries, led the boss to offloading McGrath to Aston Villa in 1989.

Ferguson did offer a pay-off of £100,000 and a testimonial, but the divide between the two had grown too deep, and McGrath refused, before packing his bags and joining the Villains.

Not many players leave Manchester United unwanted, only to become an instant success elsewhere. In fact, I can't think of any apart from McGrath.

In short, the Irishman earned his nickname “God” in front of the Villa crowd, becoming the cornerstone of a defence that was to strike fear into every striker in the league. In his first season with Villa, they came close to winning the league, finishing second to the then dominant Liverpool.

The following season was to prove disappointing, fighting relegation throughout, after their infamous manger Graham Taylor chose to manage the English national side. The next season, reunited with Ron Atkinson, Villa again finished second in the league, to former club, Manchester United.

In this year, McGrath won his first English PFA Player of the Year trophy, but was also the club's player of the year for four consecutive seasons. The icing on the cake I’m sure came in 1994, as he collected his first trophy as a Villa player, helping his side beat Manchester United in the League Cup final.

He moved from Villa in 1996 to Derby, where age and those infamous knees started to trouble him. He was not as impressive as he once was. He finished his career at Sheffield Wednesday before retiring.

McGrath of course, was also an established player at international level throughout his career, making 89 appearances for the Republic of Ireland.

There too, he became a “God,” with those who watched him from the stands becoming his heavenly choir that sung the infamous “Ooh Ahh Paul McGrath” long before it was adapted for the enigmatic Frenchman Eric Cantona.

McGrath’s most famous moment (I won't need to tell the Irish contingent of Bleacher Report) came in the 1994 World Cup when McGrath, who had decided to play regardless of a niggling shoulder injury, was stuck with what would be a daunting task to most defenders back then—marking Roberto Baggio.

Tracking Baggio backwards, McGrath slid across Baggio's front and tackled the ball straight off his toes, knocking it back to the feet of an Italian player, who immediately chipped the ball into the air, to try and set Baggio up for a half-volley.

As the ball was dropping, McGrath got off the ground, leapt up and headed the ball away, beating Baggio in the air. McGrath landed on all fours, facing out from the goal. The ball landed on the half-volley right in front of an opponent who shot for goal, with McGrath taking the shot straight in the face and immediately beginning to chase the ball.

Thrice the big man had thwarted the Italians. For the rest of the game, Baggio never got a sniff.

What was so amazing throughout McGrath’s life was the fact that he was a severe alcoholic. Four times during his spell at Villa he attempted to take his life, the worst happening in (as often was) a drunk stupor as his son, who was very young at the time, witnessed his father slash his wrists.

He was later rescued, but wait 'til you hear this...He played for Villa a few days later, using wrist bands to conceal his wounds. He led the Villians to a resounding 6-2 over Everton, in which McGrath starred brightly and went on to play 35 consecutive games afterward.

McGrath reached other unimaginable lows in his life. The worst he mentions in his autobiography “Back from the Brink” as being when, so desperate for a drink, he decided to drink Domestos. Harrowing stuff I know, but a world that unless we have experienced, we surely can't and have no right to understand.

McGrath enjoyed a lot of success in his playing days, but it is often wondered what sort of player he may have been if he was not an alcoholic or had not been severely depressed.

Ferguson said of him once, “It's incredible that he could play to the level he played at, given what was going on in his life...I can understand why he is still so popular, like George Best, people like flawed Geniuses because they see something of themselves. They're ordinary people who became great.”

I still see him around my hometown these days, but do not trouble him for handshakes or autographs. I know all too well, that although he appreciates the gesture, a part of him just wants to be left alone to enjoy his family and be what a lot of us are—normal.

McGrath, I’m sure, has seen enough limelight in his life. I just kindly nod these days and note that when I see him sitting at a bar, that it's mineral water he is sipping and that his road to rehabilitation continues.

McGrath’s flaws were never strong enough to outrun him anyway.