The infamous pen incident involving Eamon Dunphy during a television broadcast in the summer of 1990 caught the attention of nearly half of Ireland. The outburst took place while RTÉ was airing the World Cup match of Ireland against Egypt, which ended with no goals scored by either team. Dunphy launched into a heated critique of Jack Charlton’s aggressive tactics, which ultimately led to him throwing a pen across the studio.
The drama unfolded over the following days, drawing as much notice as the football match itself. For some time after, mere mention of Dunphy’s name was enough to rankle supporters of the Irish team. Reflecting upon the incident, Dunphy believes he had a narrow escape; he feels that the same event in the current social media dominated age would have spelled the end of his career.
Despite the controversy, Dunphy’s influence in the Irish broadcasting scene remains intact, even as he celebrates his 79th birthday. His podcast, ‘The Stand,’ which he launched in 2016, commands a large following. It allows Dunphy to delve into various issues, from the Gazan conflict to payment disparities at RTÉ, and the presidential race in the US.
‘The Stand’ is far from the sensationalised journalism that marked Dunphy’s career in the late 20th century. Yet he sees a continuity in his role as a check on ‘official Ireland’ – a group of public figures he believes the media is hesitant to depict unfavourably. One example he provides is President Michael D Higgins, who has faced criticism from some sections for congratulating the newly elected president of Iran.
“I believe the concept of ‘official Ireland’, which I had previously coined to describe the state, is still present, albeit featuring different individuals at the helm. Currently, we have the President, Michael D, against whom not a single word of criticism can be said. The same was true for Mary Robinson, John Hume, and others. This ‘nonspeaking’ policy is detrimental and hazardous for the field of journalism.”
In my opinion, President Higgins has allowed too much of his political inclinations to influence his role at the Áras. He should maintain an image of neutrality and avoid meddling in politics. It’s common knowledge that he leans towards the left; similarly, we knew Mary Robinson’s political orientation. The president should be visible but quiet, in line with the Constitution’s principles. If one wishes to be a zealous political player, then they ought to venture into political barracks.”
While in a Zoom conversation from my residence in Ranelagh, Dublin, it becomes evident that being the grumpy character I was on the RTÉ soccer panel doesn’t encompass my personality entirety. The same holds for the confrontational journalist that I was for the Sunday Independent newspaper, one of Ireland’s influential platforms.
While working for the Sindo, I joined other journalists in slamming John Hume for conducting negotiations with the Provisional IRA during some of the Troubles’ most violent years. Over time, the consensus is that those who chastised Hume were on the detracting side of history. However, during that period, public hostility towards the Provisionals was intense, and my criticism of the IRA and their horrific acts was not undertaken in isolation but voiced the repugnance of many. These acts were a reflection of the grotesque, possibly disturbed, faith that compacting over a million unionists into a united Ireland was attainable by violent means.
Dunphy recalls, “A young boy’s life was taken in Warrington,” referencing the 1993 incident where Jonathan Ball, three years old and Tim Parry, twelve years old, fell victim to an IRA operation.
The blast that rocked a McDonald’s in Warrington had many people on the scene, with John Hume among them. At that crucial juncture, Hume was engaged in critical dialogues with Gerry Adams and the IRA, aimed at brokering a ceasefire. These negotiations, broached by Hume, were undisputedly significant. There were debates suggesting the IRA should have been asked to surrender their weapons prior to discussions or abstain from atrocities. Observing a child’s murder and subsequently watching the culprits negotiating with an individual like Hume is a thought-provoking predicament.
Dunphy, despite his contrasting viewpoints, claims that his encounter with Hume was cordial. He appreciates that all perspectives ought to be respectfully acknowledged.
In his long tenure as an RTÉ commentator, Dunphy confesses he wasn’t shocked when last year’s secret payments given to Tubridy scandal erupted, sparking a crisis within the organisation. He stresses that directing outrage at a single presenter is fallacious, as ultimate culpability rests with the higher-ups. “The people’s anger goes deep, that’s why they refuse to pay the licence,” he declares, expressing his disgust at the scandal that is ripping through RTÉ’s bureaucracy.
In Dunphy’s view, Tubridy was merely a fall guy while the underlying issues at RTÉ extend beyond a single host. “It was dubbed the Tubridy Scandal, but he’s just a symptom,” he explains, underscoring that covert payments were an integral part of the prevailing system. The astronomical salaries earned by the top brass drew his ire, raising questions over their contributions to warrant such remuneration.
Outlets external to RTÉ, be it newspapers or commercial broadcasters, Dunphy believes, are frustrated by the seemingly free cash coming RTÉ’s way and how they squander it. He criticises the reckless dispensing of podcasts, highlighting the struggle to compete with this profusion. In Dunphy’s words, RTÉ represents an enormous, avaricious entity in the broadcasting industry, failing to take responsibility for its actions.
Prior to our discussion, news surfaces about a forthcoming film focused on the feud between Roy Keane and Mick McCarthy during the build-up to the 2002 World Cup. Dunphy, who shared a close bond with Keane, and was the ghostwriter for his autobiography ‘Keane: The Autobiography’, released a few months after their argument at Ireland’s Saipan training facility. Dunphy is uncertain about the worldwide interest in a film depicting such a uniquely Irish narrative, but he clearly recollects the epoch.
“When I was penning Keane’s book, my two good friends, Liam Brady and John Giles, believed I sided with Keane because of my involvement in the book. A fair assumption, I reckon. In their eyes, Keane was at fault. He might have been, but from my perspective, Mick McCarthy was the team’s manager, bearing the chief responsibility. There was an issue that Keane instigated… They always had ill feelings for each other, dating back to their playing days.”
Internationally, Keane never seemed to have a good relationship with his managers. “Keane shared a mutual despise for Mick, just like Jack. Although Jack was more lenient with Keane when he was a young player. One could argue Keane should’ve persevered, which is likely true, but one could equally argue that Mick ought to have handled the situation more appropriately. Keane was a significant figure in getting us there. He was amongst the world’s top players. By failing to manage this situation, we were essentially sabotaging ourselves. I later discussed the matter with Mick, who asserted it’s either his way or no way at all. I believe if Keane had stayed, we might’ve easily reached the semi-finals.”
In his post-playing career, Keane has transformed himself into a somewhat endearing grouch in his television appearances on ITV and Sky. So, what is Dunphy’s take on his transformation?
He’s transitioned into a full-time provocateur, a label that used to be associated with me – regardless of its inaccuracy. As a football commentator he is spectacle; both Sky and ITV are fond of him due to the viewers he attracts. He’s ever ready to speak his mind, unafraid to call out prominent figures and critique their actions. He sought me out to author his memoir, a request I granted. It was during his tenure with Manchester United, a factor that restricted his commentary. Post-retirement, Roddy Doyle was able to better articulate Keane’s thoughts in their book, ‘The Second Half,’ because Keane had fewer restrictions on his statements. I accepted the task because of my respect for him and I felt it was a timely book to write.
Keane is a commendable person, yet Dunphy feels there is one significant pitfall in his character. “He’s a loving father of five, a wonderful husband, and a hospitable man. He was very family-oriented when he was at the peak of his earning potential. Notably, he actively contributes to a guide dog charity. Despite his many virtues, he demonstrates one fault, that is intolerance; he is an uncompromising man. It’s unlikely that he’ll develop tolerance or forgiveness at this point in his life.”
The Stand is operating on a limited schedule for summer, but Dunphy is eager to delve back into the hubbub in the upcoming months. Approaching his 80s, he feels physically well and has no retirement plans.
“I delight in my work and strive to perform to the best of my abilities. Why a podcast? I contemplated the idea following my departure from RTÉ. I couldn’t bear the thought of passively sitting at home, indulging in leisure activities like golf. Working brings me joy. I’m grateful for my health that enables me to continue working.
“Our podcast has been quite successful. We’ve built an audience. They’re a fine audience and we are able to monetise our ads. We’re content. I’m grateful to have reached this age. The thought of idling away my days is unappealing. A vast majority despise their jobs and count down to their 65th birthday. I’m fortunate not to share that sentiment. My work gratifies me and I intend to continue.”
The Stand can be accessed through any podcast platforms.