South Mimms U

Who is the Irish football player who saved Barcelona from extinction?

February 26, 2022 Vincent / Polaine Season 6 Episode 8
South Mimms U
Who is the Irish football player who saved Barcelona from extinction?
Show Notes Transcript

Our Soccer Studies experts, Jerry and Marty, delive into the little known but significant story of Paddy O'Connell, an Irish football player and manager, who helped set up La Liga in Spain, and saved Barcelona from certain extinction over 80 years ago. Without him there'd be no Nou Camp or Messi in a Barca shirt or multiple trophies on the world stage. 

The only university that makes you chuckle AND learn at the same time.

THE EMERALD SAVIOUR OF BARCA!

 

J:

Welcome to Jerry and Marty Talk Footy – But not in ways that you’d expect, the podcast from the world famous Soccer Studies School here at South Mimms U. I’m Jerry…

 

M:

And I’m Marty…

 

J: I understand we’re going to travel to the Emerald Isle in this episode, Marty…

 

M:

Yes, The Republic of Ireland, the land of Guinness and… a certain Daniel O’Donnell!

 

J:

Right… I know Guinness… I LIKE the odd pint of that nourishing stout… but I don’t know who Daniel O’Donnell is.

 

M:

Daniel O’Donnell is a rather wonderful Irish songsmith. He created melodies which have, in fact, shaped many lives!

 

J:

Well, they might have shaped yours, but they certainly haven’t made an impact on mine. At least, not to my knowledge. 

 

M:

You’ve led a sheltered life, Jerry… 

 

J:

Or maybe I’ve got better taste in music than you have. I certainly have better taste in clothes… those purple trousers DO NOT go with that pink tie, Marty. Anyway, let’s get to the point – Who is Daniel O’Donnell and why is her important? 

 

M:

Daniel O’Donnell is a Gaelic Giant; in terms of music. I love his ballads. They’re so evocative. And they would make a great soundtrack for a film about the true subject of this podcast who is also a Celtic giant… as well as… a Catalonian colossus!

 

J:

I’m still none the wiser, Marty. And that green shirt is starting to make me feel queasy…

 

 

M:

In some circles my dress sense is revered, Jerry. 

 

J:

The clash of colours is making my eyes move in circles, Marty. Just get to the point!

 

M:

Simply, Jerry, Daniel O’Donnell is the man who saved Barcelona from extinction; the man without whom there might have been no Messi; the man who helped to give us La Liga.

 

J:

I’m struggling here. Are we, then, in fact in Spain rather than Ireland?

 

M:

We are in both actually. The man is Patrick O’Connell. A fascinating character as we’ll see.

 

J:

But what’s the connection with Barca?

 

M:

Well, in 1937, in the wake of the Spanish Civil War, he took over as manager of Barcelona. They were on the verge of going out of business and he took them on a money-spinning tour of Mexico, Cuba and the US and in the process raised enough, I think it was about £10,000 – which was a lot of money in those days, and it kept them in business. No O’Connell, no Barca, simple as that.

 

J:

Money-making tours? Nothing much has changed then! 

 

M:

Very good, yes, you’re right of course. But our boy Paddy, is fascinating for a variety of reasons as will see.

 

J:

The breath is bated!

 

M:

He started off as a player for Belfast Celtic.

 

J:

Belfast Celtic? Now that’s a great story in itself!

 

M:

Of course, I forgot, that was your dissertation subject, wasn’t it?

 

J:

Indeed, it was. Now there’s romance for you…well, almost an epic of Zhivago proportions. A Catholic and Republican fanbase, probably the best supported club in Ireland and one of the most successful too. Then, come 1949, it ends up pulling out of the Irish League permanently after its players and fans get attacked by a mob when it plays its main rivals, Linfield, which is a Protestant club traditionally, of course. Interestingly, they went on a tour of the US after they withdrew and famously were seen marching behind the Irish tricolour in St Patrick’s Day parades. Keeping politics out of sport has always been a vexing proposition.

 

M:

Indeed, it’s something that still vexes us. Anyway, you’ve set the scene rather nicely. Well, Patrick goes pretty swiftly from Belfast to the UK mainland. Plays for Sheffield Wednesday, Hull City, Manchester United, Dumbarton and Ashington, in that order, before hanging up his boots.

 

J:

Ah, Ashington. Another plot within a plot. The home of the Charlton’s and Wor Jackie, Jackie Wilburn.

 

M:

And he was the cousin of Bobby’s and Jackie’s mum!

 

J:

And Wor Jackie spent 4 of his playing years turning out for Linfield!

 

M:

So, we’re back to Belfast!

 

J:

Six degrees of separation with the Irish sea in between, indeed.

 

M:

The circle of life! 

 

 

J:

Now, don’t get carried away, Marty… are those digital cufflinks you’re wearing?

 

M:

They’re NFTs – but that’s a subject for another podcast. So, now, I should say that Patrick was a pretty good player in his own right. A wing half, well, a midfielder as far as our young students here at SMU are concerned, and he played for Ireland and was a member of the 1914 Home International team that won what was affectionately called the British Home Championship.

 

J:

And that’s another one for our youthful students to think about! There was, indeed, an annual mini-competition in which England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland – this was after the Republic of Ireland was formed, played each other. Usually, England would win it. 

 

M:

I remember those tournaments. The England -Scotland match was always a riot – sometimes literally. It certainly makes me feel old.

 

J:

But you are old, Marty. Ah, and that reminds me, I must have a word with you about your retirement… we’re planning some faculty restructuring.

 

M:

What do you mean?!!

 

J:

Nothing, nothing. Shouldn’t have mentioned it. Forget I said it. We’ll talk.

 

M:

I’m getting worried! I’m still a young man, you know.

 

J:

Age is relative. But I can assure you, Marty, that I and the academic board have every confidence in you.

 

M:

But that’s what they say about managers and then…you know what happens after the dreaded expression of confidence…

 

 

J:

Now come on, don’t disappoint our listener.

 

M:

As long as I have your word…

 

J:

Undoubtably, unquestionably. Full confidence. No plans to replace you. Definitely not. Urhm.

 

M:

OK, well, Patrick goes into management. But not any old management. Not for him, Doncaster, Tranmere or Scunthorpe. Oh no. It was straight off to Spain.

 

J:

In fact, to the Basque country. To Racing Santander. Nothing to do with the bank, by the way. Same city, of course, though. But before we go all Iberian, you’ve jogged my memory. Of course, it was your man O’Connell who was captain of Man united in the notorious Good Friday 1915 game against Liverpool, the famous betting scandal game that led to our beloved Tottenham being relegated.

 

M:

Hmmm, yes, well, I didn’t really want to dwell on that. Don’t want the hero of our story to have feet of clay, do we?

 

J:

On this point, yes, I do. It’s all coming back to me now. It’s the 2 April 1915 and the meeting of arch-rivals Manchester United and Liverpool at Old Trafford. United, led by O’Connell need to win to avoid relegation. Rumours abound, even before kick-off, that the match has been fixed. Eyewitnesses talk of the two sets of players meeting up in Manchester pubs to decide on the outcome and bookmakers are suddenly swamped with bets on a 2-0 victory for United at 8/1 or 7/1.

 

M:

Yes, OK, but you’re saying this with a bit too much venom for my liking. I never took you for a bitter man! Anyway, in case you haven’t forgotten, Tottenham would have been back in the topflight in 1918 if it hadn’t been for the dubious dealings of the boys from Woolwich.

 

J:

Yes, yes, blame lies there too, but now you’re side-tracking me. I was painting a picture, remember?

 

M:

OK, back to you and your canvas.

 

J:

Thank you. Now, as I was saying, a strange atmosphere pervades the match and United go 1-0 up and then win a penalty. Who steps up to take it? None other than dear old Patrick, the captain, of course.  And what does he do? He kicks it so far wide it nearly hit the corner flag and then walked back up the pitch laughing! My theory, by the way, on that is that he just knew United could get their second whenever they wanted to score it.

 

M:

Yes, it didn’t really cover anyone in glory.

 

J:

Did you know that some accounts describe a furious argument going o at half-time in the Liverpool dressing room as not all the players were in on it? In fact, Fred Pagnam, the Liverpool forward, nearly went and scored and apparently got terrible stick as he’d come close to ruining the bet.

 

M:

I should point out that because the penalty miss was so egregious, the referee stopped the game for a while and clearly thought something was seriously amiss. In Patrick’s defence, yes, he was a known gambler, but he was found not guilty by the FA, although 3 United and 4 Liverpool players got banned for life.

 

J:

You’re looking a little downcast now. Come on, cheer up and take us back to sunny Spain.

 

M:

Alright, then. Patrick had his foibles, I’ll grant you. Even when he went across to Spain, he didn’t tell anyone! It’s 1922 and he suddenly disappears. Abandons his wife and four children, leaving them in dire poverty. They haven’t got a clue what’s happened until, literally months later, envelopes full of Spanish Pesetas start landing through their letterbox, postmarked Santander.

 

J:

Not what you might call a new man!

 

 

 

M:

A man of his time, I’d say. But, yes, I won’t hold him up as a domestic role model! But what he did achieve was five regional titles.as coach of Racing de Santander. Then, given that success, come 1928, he’s very much involved in the discussions to create La Liga, he was one of the architects, in fact, and Racing are invited to be one of its founding members. Now that’s a legacy in itself.

 

J:

You’re beginning to hook me now. He certainly made his mark there. But then he moves on, doesn’t he? I seem to recall him going to Real Oviedo for a couple of fallow years, where he did nothing much at all.

 

M:

I like to think of that as a time of consolidation. A bit like Tottenham in the 1990s…and the early 2000s.

 

J:

And the middle 2010’s and, save a brief sojourn in the sunny uplands… we’re back in the doldrums.

 

M:

That’s why Spurs fans are all, by necessity, Stoics, Jerry. Anyway, back to matters Espanol! Patrick finds glory again when he moves to Seville. But not to glam boys Sevilla. No, it’s off to Real Betis. A proudly working-class club whose fans really disliked what they saw as the pretensions of the glamour clubs.

 

J:

So, a sort of Seville version of St Pauli or Atletico Madrid?

 

M:

Spot on! On top of that, Betis were in the Second Division when he went there, and he was truly a football revolutionary. It was 1931 when he arrived, and he was a sort of 1930s Arsene Wenger. He banned the players from smoking, he introduced a healthy diet and even controlled how long they slept. The team loved him and called him ‘Don Patricio’.

 

J:

A man ahead of his time. It reminds me of some of those other English and Scottish coaches we’ve talked about previously. Men like Jimmy Hogan, who really took their soccer philosophy across Europe and beyond.

 

 

M:

Yes, true pioneers and yet so many of them are long forgotten at home, though still very much remembered in Europe and, indeed, in South America.

 

J:

O’Connell did a bit of a Leicester with Betis, didn’t he?

 

M:

Yes, he gets them into the top division and by 1935 the title is about to be theirs. As fate would have it, the last game of the season is against his old club, Racing. Betis are a point ahead of Real Madrid and need only a draw.

 

J:

Tell me they did it! 

 

M:

Relax! Patrick was nothing if not wily! The night before the game, he visits the players and staff of Racing, and they tell him that the Racing chairman loves Madrid and has offered them a massive bonus if they beat Betis. He goes back and tells his players all this, really gets them in the zone and they go out and win 5-0. And do you know what? It’s still the only time that Betis have landed the title.

 

J:

It's some story! But we still haven’t got to Barcelona.

 

M:

Patience is a virtue! Before we get to that, I’ve got to say that Patrick was simply a tactical genius. He was years ahead of his time. He was, for instance, the pioneer of the offside trap. That Betis team conceded only 19 goals in 22 games. But wait no longer, Barca here we come!

 

J:

I thought we’d never get there!

 

M:

It’s all about build-up, you know. 

 

J:

I imagine that O’Connell gets to Barcelona just as the winds of civil war are beginning to blow?

 

M:

Yes, he’s appointed for season 1935-6. He inherits a good team, but Barca is a bit of a mess financially!

 

J:

Plus ca Change!

 

M:

Wrong country, but right sentiment! As we said, the circle of life! But, yes, things were in a very bad way. The political unrest had meant that crowds had dropped dramatically and there was little revenue coming in. 

 

J:

How did they do on the pitch?

 

M:

Well, that first season, they reach the final of what we now call the Copa del Rey, and they win the Catalan Championship. 

 

J:

Then war actually breaks out, I assume?

 

M:

Yes, but Patrick pops back to Ireland. Oh, and he’s got a new wife; not surprising, I suppose, after how he’d treated the first Mrs O’C. He didn’t annul his first marriage, neither did they divorce. And both wives were called Ellen!

 

J:

I’m still not feeling drawn to him on the human level!

 

M:

Point taken! But let me now show you that he was a hero, albeit a flawed one…I suppose in the Greek, rather than the Irish, tradition!

 

J:

That classical education sometimes stands you in good stead.

 

M:

Certainly useful for knowing what club mottoes mean! But that’s for another day.

 

 

J:

I do hope not!

 

M:

We’ll see! Anyway, Patrick is sitting at home in Ireland and gets a message that the club president, the man who recruited him, has been kidnapped and murdered by Franco’s troops. The message goes onto say that it’s too dangerous to return. But Patrick instead insists: ‘I have a contract and it will be honoured.’

 

J:

Not so bad after all? 

 

M:

He gets back to Catalonia to find La Liga suspended and Barça playing in a regional Mediterranean league. The club is now being seen as an expression of Catalan power against Franco and this puts both the club and Patrick in the General’s sights.

 

J:

I can feel a movie coming on!

 

M:

Yes and it should be! The stadium has by now been partially destroyed in the bombing of Barcelona and the general feeling is that the club won’t survive. Then, a Mexican businessman comes along and offers the team an all-expenses paid tour of Mexico. The Mexican government was a socialist one and obviously no friend of Franco. So, the offer’s accepted and 16 players and 4 members of staff sail to Mexico, with Patrick himself, during the voyage, personally training the club’s groundsman to be a physiotherapist.

 

J:

So, the tour of Mexico was a great success, and they took in Cuba too. Didn’t I read that they won four games out of six and raised about $15,000?

 

M:

That’s right. Then they headed to New York, where they played a further three matches against local teams representing the migrant communities in the city. Mind you, when they returned to Spain, there was only Patrick and four players left. The rest had stayed in Mexico or disembarked in France when the ship docked there. Understandably, they were afraid of reprisals by Franco.

 

 

 

J:

What did they do with the money they’d collected? I hope O’Connell didn’t go and gamble it away!

 

M:

A particularly unworthy thought, even for you!  When they stopped in France, O’Connell and the club secretary went off to Paris and set up a secret bank account, depositing in it the money they’d got from the tour. That laid the foundations for everything that the club have become since.

 

J:

It’s an incredible story. I can see a theme emerging: O’Connell ultimately achieving salvation!

 

M:

Yes, in many ways I think he did.

 

J:

What become of him afterwards?

 

M:

He retired from management in 1958 after further spells at Real Betis, Sevilla and Racing de Santander. He then returned to England but was completely estranged from his family. He struggled to find a job and struggled without football in his life. He turned to alcohol and even begging, finally dying of pneumonia in a street in St Pancras, London. Then he was simply buried in an unmarked pauper's grave. There was one mourner at his funeral: his brother. 

 

His Spanish contacts had tried to help him, and Real Betis held a testimonial for him in 1954, but his financial difficulties continued. Betis have never forgotten Patrick O’Connell, in fact they tracked down and invited family members, including Patrick’s grandson, when they celebrated the 75th anniversary of their title win. There’s even a bust of him at Betis’s ground. Meanwhile, Barcelona inaugurated him into their hall of fame and a fund was established to give him a proper gravestone at his resting place at St Mary’s Catholic Cemetery, in Kensal Green, North London.

 

J:

That would make a great movie…

 

M;

With ballads by Daniel O’Donnell. 

 

J:

Perhaps… anyway, thanks Marty, that's been a fascinating journey and it’s hard not to be in awe of what Patrick O’Connell achieved. A worthy figure for the faculty’s focus! And that brings us to the end of this episode of Jerry and Marty Talk Footy – But not in ways you’d expect. Check out the other Soccer Studies podcasts where you found this one and please come again when we have another strange but interesting story to tell you. And, Marty, a quick visit to the Fashion Industry Department might help you with your dress sense. 

 

M:

That’s where I got these white brogues with diamonte inlays…

 

J: 

Oh… OK. It’s time to go. Goodbye.