Trading places
NEXT time you’re going to watch Galway United in the eircom League, pay particular attention to the man at the turnstile. If it’s a busy evening, it could be the club’s chief executive, Nick Leeson. No job’s too small for the energetic man from Watford; if there’s a shortage of people to take tickets at the gate on the first of August, when Galway take on Sunderland, then he’ll pitch in.
“I’m involved in every aspect of the club,” says Leeson.
“You can ask a lot of the Cork fans we had here a few weeks ago — many of them bought their tickets from me. There was a good crowd at it, over 3,000, and because we didn’t have enough people to man the turnstiles I went down and lent a hand.
“That’s variety, and it’s variety — in any job — that keeps me interested. Learning new things, dealing with new situations — I couldn’t do the same job every day, and in saying that I don’t want to disparage any other industry.”
Given that Galway United is not a multinational concern along the lines of Manchester United, Leeson’s commitment might be unusual but hardly remarkable.
However, he has a pretty unique employment history. He’s the man who finished Barings Bank by running up roughly $1.3 billion in debts by early 1995. A genuine international man of mystery, he spent some time on the run from the authorities before being nabbed in Frankfurt and shipped back to spend years in a Singapore jail. He then survived cancer. And divorce.
It’s hard to see exactly where being portrayed by Ewan McGregor in the movie of his life — Rogue Trade — ranks in that list of reversals, mind. Eventually Leeson fetched up on the west coast of Ireland.
Given how much supporters of any sport like to slag off the opposition, surely a CV like that must be a source of unending verbal strife.
“No, it’s not brought up, and to be honest I wouldn’t mind if it was — I’d encourage it. I probably get more from our own playing staff than opposing fans. Assistant manager Alan Goff is a particularly bad offender …
“Every team has a joker, that’s what football is about. You have to have a good sense of humour, and I think I have. I can give as good as I get, and if someone’s prepared to dish it out they’ve got to be prepared to take it as well. I’m fairly sharp!
“I welcome all of that. I don’t deny any of what happened. If I couldn’t have a laugh and a joke in work I wouldn’t go in.”
Leeson wound up in Galway by accident rather than design. When he met Leona, now his second wife, she was already living there, and after he spent a few months commuting back and forth they decided it was easier for one of them to move (“For me to move,” says Leeson).
His day wasn’t packed at first — Leeson’s primary source of income is after-dinner speaking, which continues to be the case. He had his eye out for something to occupy his time, but until he saw the Galway United commercial manager job advertised, nothing appealed.
“To get out from under Leona’s feet, and to keep my brain active, I applied for the job. There wasn’t much else that appealed to me.”
Leeson had always been interested in sport — representing his school at football and playing professionally while working in Singapore — so football and business was a good mix. Since the beginning of April he’s also been chief executive of the club. When he talks about Galway United it’s with an odd mix of evangelical fervour and hard-nosed business sense.
“The aim of the club is to create something that’s sustainable and has a degree of longevity. I don’t believe you can do that by injecting short-term cash into a club to buy success. That’s why clubs like Shelbourne and Dublin City have had problems.
“You need a good business model, and Dublin City probably didn’t have that; they were probably paying too many people. On the other hand, St Pat’s have appointed a chief executive and a new secretary, Cork have a new chief executive — what you’re seeing is that there are clubs building on a solid base, not depending on the benevolence of one or two people. That’s the way forward. Derry have always been geared towards that, while Cork and Pat’s are also taking steps in that direction.
“We’re not going down that route — the money we have for players every year is the cash we’re able to raise. Nobody is pumping cash into our club, it’s all through sponsorship and fundraising. If you’re going through a cycle of boom and bust, then eventually other clubs will pass you by. You only have to look at Shelbourne and Dublin City to see that. I think the clubs that don’t move in the direction of a sound business model, like the clubs I’ve mentioned, may fade away.”
Part of that business model is rooting the club in the community. Is he happy with his club’s status in Galway?
“The direct answer is no, but we’re going in the right direction. We had 3,000 out on a Tuesday evening against Cork — a night we don’t normally play on — and we have a very good club promotions officer, probably the best in the country. We have to hold up our end of the bargain, though, or they’ll disappear. Managing a club by committee doesn’t work. You need people with financial acumen. I know it’s a sport, and everyone wants success — we want that as well — but you need an infrastructure behind the club to drive it.”
It’s clear that Leeson sees Galway as a chance to put the lessons he’s learned to good effect — and not just his business nous.
“I only ever look forward,” he says, “I’ve spent a lot of time talking about the past, it’s been exciting, it’s been difficult, it’s been frustrating — but that’s what life is all about. You have one opportunity to live it and you do the best you can.
“Hopefully you are the sum of all your experiences, and you can use those experiences to make yourself a better person. In my after-dinner speaking a big point I make is that you can learn as much from your mistakes as you can from your successes. I’m a big believer in that — ignoring your failures is a blinkered way to act.
“A lot of my previous experiences were associated with risk, and whatever business you’re in there’s an element of risk. Nowhere is that more obvious than in a professional sporting environment, where you’re heavily dependent on fans coming to support you, generating revenue through the gate. We all have aspirations and hopes about what we can do, but if you don’t look after your fans and engage with the community then every week there’s the potential for that revenue to disappear.”
So: when the time comes to make Rogue Trader: The Galway Years, who’ll play Leeson?
For the first time in the afternoon he’s stuck for words.
“I don’t know, I haven’t thought about that!”



