Mick McCarthy’s soundbites: Life on the bacon slicer

We’ve learned a lot about Mick McCarthy over the years in his press conferences and TV appearances...

Mick McCarthy’s soundbites: Life on the bacon slicer

We’ve learned a lot about Mick McCarthy over the years in his press conferences and TV appearances...

It won’t be straightforward for Ireland players to impress the manager:

“Halle Berry excites me, but I wouldn't play her.”

Bosses such as Unai Emery are active on Twitter, but Mick won’t be joining them:

“Am I fuck? Twitter? Not a chance. Can you imagine? I'd either have 700 billion followers or I'd be put in prison. Why would I want to do that? If someone came on giving me abuse, it would degenerate very quickly.”

Is his task with Ireland anything like the job he felt Chris Coleman had on at Sunderland?

“Like trying to turn around an oil tanker with a canoe paddle.”

Warning to the Lansdowne Road faithful: no Mexican waves:

“I hate them, it means the game’s rubbish, or we’re winning 3-0 at Molineux . . . although that doesn’t happen too often.”

If things go wrong, the boo-boys won’t be getting any credit for turning it around:

"Let's not give any of the dissenting voices, the mindless idiots that do it, any credit whether it's aimed at me, Karl Henry, Andy Keogh or Stephen Ward. Do not give them any credence or any credit for getting us playing well or getting a result. They don't deserve any of that."

Be careful he doesn’t take your eye out:

"If you open your legs it can flick anywhere."

He enjoys being denied a penalty as much as the next man:

“We’ve got the drug testers here today. They shouldn’t be going to see the players. They should go to see the officials instead.”

Don’t ask him what he thought if one of the centre halves sticks it in his own net:

“Fucking abysmal, that was what I fucking thought of it. C’mon, let’s get to it, I’m trying my best here. What did I make of it? I thought it was the best bit of fucking football I’ve seen in a long time. Do me a favour. It was a crap start to a game. There you have it, can you print all that? Fucking rubbish, absolute tosh. Drivel. Shite. Bullshit. That’s what I thought of it. Did that help? I’m quite pleased, apart from the fact that’s given them the poxy result, I’m fucking livid about it – of course I am. So, there you have it.”

He is a man of limited will power:

“I started [trying to give up alcohol] on Shrove Tuesday and then by Ash Wednesday something had happened and I’d had a bottle of beer.”

He has a nose for bullshit:

“Opinions are like backsides, we’ve all got them but it’s not wise to air them in public.”

He regrets nothing about World Cup 2002, almost nothing:

“No regrets, none at all. My only regret is that we went out on penalties. That’s my only regret. But no, no regrets.”

If John Delaney wants to give Stephen Kenny an early nod, there should be no problem:

“I told the Millwall chairman that if he ever wants to sack me, all he has to do is take me into town, buy me a meal, a few pints and a cigar and I’ll piss off.”

The Ireland camp should be flood proof:

“What I learned from Jack [Charlton] – ensure that you're all inside the tent pissing out and get rid of any fellow who's outside the tent pissing in."

Defeat hurts:

"I was feeling as sick as the proverbial donkey."

Don’t express surprise that his team didn’t pick up any yellow cards:

"No and I asked all the lads to go out there and knock seven bells out of everybody as well like I normally do. Shame that isn't it? They went out there and played free-flowing football and were rampant for 45 minutes. What were they playing at?"

Fickle fans are in his crosshairs:

“We play one bad half and we're all shit and we can't play. The manager doesn't care, get somebody who cares. I'm a boring c*nt, somebody called me that last week. I wish they would call me that to my face on my own, because his pint of lager, he would have been wearing it.

I heard the comments and let me tell you if that's what they think about me and my team they are sadly mistaken. I'm not having that. It really does hurt me that. Up and down like a bloody fiddler's elbow. I'm all right one week but I'm not the next.”

It’s always been a hot seat for Mick:

“You want to try sitting in that dug-out when your backside's on the bacon slicer.”

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