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Champagne Football: The Rise and Fall of John Delaney and the Football Association of Ireland
Over the course of fifteen years, John Delaney ran the Football Association of Ireland as his own personal fiefdom. He had his critics, but his power was never seriously challenged until last year, when Mark Tighe and Paul Rowan published a sequence of stories in the Sunday Times containing damaging revelations about his personal compensation and the parlous financial situation of the FAI. Delaney's reputation as a great financial manager was left in tatters. He resigned under pressure, and the FAI was left hoping for a massive bail-out from the Irish taxpayer.
In Champagne Football, Tighe and Rowan dig deep into the story of Delaney's career and of the FAI's slide into ruin. They show how he surrounded himself with people whose personal loyalty he could count on, and a board that failed to notice that the association's finances were shot. They detail Delaney's skilful cultivation of opinion-formers outside the FAI. And they document the culture of excess that Delaney presided over and benefited from, to the detriment of the organization he led.
Champagne Football is a gripping, sometimes darkly hilarious and often enraging piece of reporting by the award-winning journalists who finally pulled back the curtain on the FAI's mismanagement.
In Champagne Football, Tighe and Rowan dig deep into the story of Delaney's career and of the FAI's slide into ruin. They show how he surrounded himself with people whose personal loyalty he could count on, and a board that failed to notice that the association's finances were shot. They detail Delaney's skilful cultivation of opinion-formers outside the FAI. And they document the culture of excess that Delaney presided over and benefited from, to the detriment of the organization he led.
Champagne Football is a gripping, sometimes darkly hilarious and often enraging piece of reporting by the award-winning journalists who finally pulled back the curtain on the FAI's mismanagement.
336 pages, Paperback
First published September 17, 2020
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 112 reviews
September 24, 2020
A high-end hitman would be impressed by the way the authors unemotionally and ruthlessly stake out and take down the protagonist and his supporting cast of orcs. The target reader will know a lot of the anecdotes, but to see them linked together so coherently makes the whole 20 year period seem like one great farcical play. To whoever dropped that envelope on Mark Tighe's desk, you are the masked hero of this story.
November 29, 2024
A very well run association nothing to see here
October 2, 2020
This is a really good read, trawling through the crimes and misdemeanours of the notorious former head of the FAI. The authors' access to detailed FAI documentation is obviously a core element of the book, and at it's best it's impossible to put down. However, a few small gripes. I think a few people get off lightly in the book, maybe because they operate (or operated) broadly in a journalistic sphere. I guess the climate of fear that Delaney and his henchmen created was partly to blame for that, but still. Also the cast of FAI gets a bit confusing at times. Some sort of a chart that showed who held what position from say 2000 until the bitter end might have saved me from going 'Who is this guy again?'... But the book is definitely worth a read, and any book that somehow manages to portray Shane Ross in a positive light is an achievement in itself.
December 20, 2020
Woah. He is an awful human being!
March 3, 2022
Great fun, written like a thriller, only without the massive pay-off at the end. No, wait a minute. There are lots of massive pay-offs. It's just that the villain doesn't die.
August 7, 2024
One of the few books where I couldn’t put it down and would read till late.
The story is amazing and the authors do a great job of condensing hundreds of interviews into a readable version.
The story is amazing and the authors do a great job of condensing hundreds of interviews into a readable version.
August 5, 2021
We all know the FAI has been a shambles for years, but this book lays out every infuriating detail.
I had to take to take regular breaks while reading it to groan and curse out loud.
Absolutely maddening stuff. Brilliant work 9/10
I had to take to take regular breaks while reading it to groan and curse out loud.
Absolutely maddening stuff. Brilliant work 9/10
December 20, 2023
The worst man
October 15, 2020
A friend asked me if it was a "hatchet job" on Delaney. To me it reads more like a flip book of a tyrant who rises to power, before eventually being ripped from his golden throne and dragged kicking (but not screaming) through the streets as his former subjects jeer and throw stones and rotten prawn sandwiches at him.
It's a book about corporate governance, but the fact that it keeps you attentive tells you these are storytellers you trust and want to hear more from. Anyone like me with even a passing interest or casual involvement in football in Ireland will be aware of at least some of the blackguarding already - but I found myself laughing and seething all over again at new details of old stories which are told forensically and expertly told.
I did want to know a little bit more about the motivations of the protagonist. In a book watertight about facts and keeping away from too much libellous speculation, it's understandable. Details such as how JD would usually spend a flight throwing stuff at one of his board members give you an image of a cheeky, almost immature "messer". I wanted to hear about one or two more snippets of this side of his character.
I look forward to reading a future addition in a couple of years detailing the final stages of the reckoning for the main character.
It's a book about corporate governance, but the fact that it keeps you attentive tells you these are storytellers you trust and want to hear more from. Anyone like me with even a passing interest or casual involvement in football in Ireland will be aware of at least some of the blackguarding already - but I found myself laughing and seething all over again at new details of old stories which are told forensically and expertly told.
I did want to know a little bit more about the motivations of the protagonist. In a book watertight about facts and keeping away from too much libellous speculation, it's understandable. Details such as how JD would usually spend a flight throwing stuff at one of his board members give you an image of a cheeky, almost immature "messer". I wanted to hear about one or two more snippets of this side of his character.
I look forward to reading a future addition in a couple of years detailing the final stages of the reckoning for the main character.
April 17, 2021
A Very Irish Scandal: Jobs for the Boyos (in Green)
A torrid tale of how, via the inaction and incompetence of a fawning board of directors (wax museum with a pulse vibes) and some seriously shoddy financial auditing, the Irish taxpayer essentially funded a middle-aged man's boring life o' luxury as he virtually bankrupted the national football association.
Like A Very English Scandal, this is the kind of book you don't want to end cause each new revelation of greed and malfeasance is tastier than the previous morsel. My personal favourite was the €500,000 paid to some wheeler dealer for the "concept" of a sponsored walkathon. Riveting, inconceivable sports administration action.
The lack of outrage when the shit properly hit the fan was kinda surprising tho. You have this cove making half a million Euros a year while slyly having his employer pay for his rent, car, phone, lager luncheons, five o'clocktails in the village pub, glitzy Ritz Carlton stays with his blade, personal legal expenses (pocketing any compensation without reimbursing his employer, obvs), and probably for an effing Peloton too. All under the unwatching droopy eye of a VOLUNTEER board. I didn't follow the story in the news so maybe people were going bonkers, but the book didn't make the dudgeon seem as high as it could/should have been.
The moral of the story is: become a civil servant; lavishly spend public dabs; get bailed out by the taxpayer. Rinse, repeat, refinance.
A torrid tale of how, via the inaction and incompetence of a fawning board of directors (wax museum with a pulse vibes) and some seriously shoddy financial auditing, the Irish taxpayer essentially funded a middle-aged man's boring life o' luxury as he virtually bankrupted the national football association.
Like A Very English Scandal, this is the kind of book you don't want to end cause each new revelation of greed and malfeasance is tastier than the previous morsel. My personal favourite was the €500,000 paid to some wheeler dealer for the "concept" of a sponsored walkathon. Riveting, inconceivable sports administration action.
The lack of outrage when the shit properly hit the fan was kinda surprising tho. You have this cove making half a million Euros a year while slyly having his employer pay for his rent, car, phone, lager luncheons, five o'clocktails in the village pub, glitzy Ritz Carlton stays with his blade, personal legal expenses (pocketing any compensation without reimbursing his employer, obvs), and probably for an effing Peloton too. All under the unwatching droopy eye of a VOLUNTEER board. I didn't follow the story in the news so maybe people were going bonkers, but the book didn't make the dudgeon seem as high as it could/should have been.
The moral of the story is: become a civil servant; lavishly spend public dabs; get bailed out by the taxpayer. Rinse, repeat, refinance.
October 1, 2020
I am a member of the second captains world service and over the years have followed the FAI shenanigans and this book expertly ties it all together. I really enjoyed reading it and would recommend it to all irish soccer fans. By the way look up the 'John the baptist' John Delaney video on Youtube. It has to be seen to be believed!
December 2, 2020
Incredible journalism, this excellent book details the excess, crookedness and corruption of the John Delaney era at the FAI.
August 21, 2021
Champagne Football: The Tragedy of the Ordinary Hero
As a snooker fan, I spend a significant amount of time watching players doing nothing. But soccer? Paralyzingly boring. I have no nationalistic tendencies that motivate me to support the ‘boys in green’. I would be stretched to name, let alone recognise, any players apart from Roy Keane. He doesn’t actually play anymore, though, right? For these reasons, the experience of reading Champagne Football by Mark Tighe and Paul Rowan was unexpectedly thrilling.
The authors capture something Shakespearean in the saga of John Delaney’s reign of Ireland’s Football Association: a drama that evolves into an urgent warning about power, ambition and greed. Their book tracks years’ worth of mismanagement within the FAI and demonstrates how ordinary folks willingly sacrificed their personal integrity to preserve the appearance of Delaney as the rightful king of Irish soccer. It also serves as an examination of an organisation whose death by ‘ah, sure, look it’ sadly resembles that of other failed publicly funded Irish institutions.
Champagne Football begins with a description of Delaney’s lavish James Bond themed 50th birthday party and the irritable grousing of reluctant guest, Eamon Dunphy. It situates the reader at one of the many tables at the Mount Juliet Estate served by waiters dressed like the skeletons in ‘Live and Let Die’. Dunphy’s own description of this ‘cringe fest’ begins with Delaney reading out his own birthday messages and peaks with him singing to his girlfriend: the kind of public canoodling for which the Irish have designated a circle of Hell. It is no wonder Dunphy’s wife is kicking him under the table in the traditional manner of spouses initiating an escape. The party is a perfect snapshot of Delaney at the height of his influence within the FAI. It would be a year and a half until the investigative work of the book’s two authors would finally blow the full-time whistle on Delaney, revealing how his lavish lifestyle was sustained by FAI bank accounts.
The book is full of events that illustrate John Delaney’s astonishing neck. The authors’ curation of these episodes demonstrates how Delaney’s ego and his managerial incompetency grew simultaneously until they were indistinguishable from one another. Like all successful con artists, Delaney knew how to spin his own narrative. He knew how to throw money around and who to flatter. Whether it was his careless attitude towards bookkeeping, or his disdain for oversight, the authors drive the book forward with countless examples of his misconduct. The benefit of hindsight creates an opportunity for smugness that the authors have thankfully refused. Instead, they let the people around Delaney express their experiences. This documentary approach keeps the writing smug free, while allowing wry humour to emerge. One example comes from the then minister of sport, John O’Donoghue, who describes Bertie Ahern’s cautious attitude towards Delaney: ‘Bertie could sniff a wide boy like that. He had a sixth fuckin’ sense’. A cynical reader might snigger and shuffle the anecdote into the ‘it takes one to know one’ file, but there is an important relevance to the Teflon Taoiseach’s ironic skill of rat sniffing. It was a skill lacking among the members of the FAI board, a voluntary group of genuine non-rats.
So frustratingly baffling is the suspension of disbelief in those surrounding Delaney, that the moment of truth feels irresistibly close and yet utterly unreachable. Details, gathered by fastidious investigative work, are woven throughout the narrative and create tangible suspense from snap Board meetings and clandestine conversations. Delaney’s pattern of irresponsibility, half-truth cover-ups and slippery evasions comes in concentric circles that demonstrate the irrepressible force of history doomed to repeat itself. The immediacy of Tighe and Rowan’s writing positions the reader at the conference table desperate to know who (among us) has the courage to ask questions that will stop the cycle. Who will call out Delaney’s lies and demand the truth? Would you? Would I?
The story of Champagne Football demonstrates how perfectly trustworthy people can be convinced to behave in ways that are ethically questionable and, at times, downright illegal. As events pile up, the proof of misconduct becomes overwhelming. There are names and more names. A seemingly endless line of people, whose dealings with Delaney ought to have rung alarm bells, are paraded past the reader as the authors depict the quasi-religious support for John ‘ah, sure, he’s done so much for us’ Delaney. What he did to (not for) the FAI is communicated succinctly at the end of the book. Supporters of Irish soccer might want to read this part between their fingers or from behind the sofa. Irish taxpayers might want a bucket.
The authors’ journalistic recounting of Delaney’s wheeling and dealing is so juicy that the reader may be tempted to conserve energy by scanning over the dense particulars of names, places and times. It is a false economy, though, as it results in time spent flipping back through pages looking to reconnect names with backstories. As non-fiction, the book requires the heavy lifting of factual evidence, but for accessibility it needs the light touch of entertainment. The authors achieve this balance with a conversational tone: as though chatting over quiet pints, pulling the reader in, elbows on the table, for what feels like privileged access to secret investigative evidence.
Foul deeds will rise, just as Shakespeare promised. Champagne Football is a tribute to the work of its authors in raising Delaney’s criminal mismanagement of Irish soccer to the public’s attention. As the FAI board eventually crawls out from under the weight of its mistakes, Tighe and Rowan remind us that questions and challenges remain: questions about how to hold powerful people accountable and whether or not we have the courage to do it.
As a snooker fan, I spend a significant amount of time watching players doing nothing. But soccer? Paralyzingly boring. I have no nationalistic tendencies that motivate me to support the ‘boys in green’. I would be stretched to name, let alone recognise, any players apart from Roy Keane. He doesn’t actually play anymore, though, right? For these reasons, the experience of reading Champagne Football by Mark Tighe and Paul Rowan was unexpectedly thrilling.
The authors capture something Shakespearean in the saga of John Delaney’s reign of Ireland’s Football Association: a drama that evolves into an urgent warning about power, ambition and greed. Their book tracks years’ worth of mismanagement within the FAI and demonstrates how ordinary folks willingly sacrificed their personal integrity to preserve the appearance of Delaney as the rightful king of Irish soccer. It also serves as an examination of an organisation whose death by ‘ah, sure, look it’ sadly resembles that of other failed publicly funded Irish institutions.
Champagne Football begins with a description of Delaney’s lavish James Bond themed 50th birthday party and the irritable grousing of reluctant guest, Eamon Dunphy. It situates the reader at one of the many tables at the Mount Juliet Estate served by waiters dressed like the skeletons in ‘Live and Let Die’. Dunphy’s own description of this ‘cringe fest’ begins with Delaney reading out his own birthday messages and peaks with him singing to his girlfriend: the kind of public canoodling for which the Irish have designated a circle of Hell. It is no wonder Dunphy’s wife is kicking him under the table in the traditional manner of spouses initiating an escape. The party is a perfect snapshot of Delaney at the height of his influence within the FAI. It would be a year and a half until the investigative work of the book’s two authors would finally blow the full-time whistle on Delaney, revealing how his lavish lifestyle was sustained by FAI bank accounts.
The book is full of events that illustrate John Delaney’s astonishing neck. The authors’ curation of these episodes demonstrates how Delaney’s ego and his managerial incompetency grew simultaneously until they were indistinguishable from one another. Like all successful con artists, Delaney knew how to spin his own narrative. He knew how to throw money around and who to flatter. Whether it was his careless attitude towards bookkeeping, or his disdain for oversight, the authors drive the book forward with countless examples of his misconduct. The benefit of hindsight creates an opportunity for smugness that the authors have thankfully refused. Instead, they let the people around Delaney express their experiences. This documentary approach keeps the writing smug free, while allowing wry humour to emerge. One example comes from the then minister of sport, John O’Donoghue, who describes Bertie Ahern’s cautious attitude towards Delaney: ‘Bertie could sniff a wide boy like that. He had a sixth fuckin’ sense’. A cynical reader might snigger and shuffle the anecdote into the ‘it takes one to know one’ file, but there is an important relevance to the Teflon Taoiseach’s ironic skill of rat sniffing. It was a skill lacking among the members of the FAI board, a voluntary group of genuine non-rats.
So frustratingly baffling is the suspension of disbelief in those surrounding Delaney, that the moment of truth feels irresistibly close and yet utterly unreachable. Details, gathered by fastidious investigative work, are woven throughout the narrative and create tangible suspense from snap Board meetings and clandestine conversations. Delaney’s pattern of irresponsibility, half-truth cover-ups and slippery evasions comes in concentric circles that demonstrate the irrepressible force of history doomed to repeat itself. The immediacy of Tighe and Rowan’s writing positions the reader at the conference table desperate to know who (among us) has the courage to ask questions that will stop the cycle. Who will call out Delaney’s lies and demand the truth? Would you? Would I?
The story of Champagne Football demonstrates how perfectly trustworthy people can be convinced to behave in ways that are ethically questionable and, at times, downright illegal. As events pile up, the proof of misconduct becomes overwhelming. There are names and more names. A seemingly endless line of people, whose dealings with Delaney ought to have rung alarm bells, are paraded past the reader as the authors depict the quasi-religious support for John ‘ah, sure, he’s done so much for us’ Delaney. What he did to (not for) the FAI is communicated succinctly at the end of the book. Supporters of Irish soccer might want to read this part between their fingers or from behind the sofa. Irish taxpayers might want a bucket.
The authors’ journalistic recounting of Delaney’s wheeling and dealing is so juicy that the reader may be tempted to conserve energy by scanning over the dense particulars of names, places and times. It is a false economy, though, as it results in time spent flipping back through pages looking to reconnect names with backstories. As non-fiction, the book requires the heavy lifting of factual evidence, but for accessibility it needs the light touch of entertainment. The authors achieve this balance with a conversational tone: as though chatting over quiet pints, pulling the reader in, elbows on the table, for what feels like privileged access to secret investigative evidence.
Foul deeds will rise, just as Shakespeare promised. Champagne Football is a tribute to the work of its authors in raising Delaney’s criminal mismanagement of Irish soccer to the public’s attention. As the FAI board eventually crawls out from under the weight of its mistakes, Tighe and Rowan remind us that questions and challenges remain: questions about how to hold powerful people accountable and whether or not we have the courage to do it.
September 27, 2023
Gary Keegan is the most down bad man of all time
February 2, 2024
Genuinely upsetting how incompetent the FAI have been throughout my entire lifetime, I will never ever forgive John Delaney if I never get to see Ireland playing in a World Cup, (I was only 3 when Ireland last qualified). An absolute wanker who used football in the country to line his own pockets and set football in the country back decades.
September 22, 2020
This is an outstanding book and follows on from great investigative work by the two authors. The Prologue is wonderfully well written and there is a dark comedy that permeates through this book. Its been a very good year for books about Irish soccer ( with 'Heart and Spirit' released earlier in the year). 'Champagne Football' is a must-read for people at all levels of the game. People should go out and buy a hard copy of this book and support excellent journalism.
July 28, 2021
Clunk, crash! The sound of my jaw hitting the floor as I read this account of Gorgeous John the Supreme hubristic Irish Chancer driving our national football association towards destruction. A whole gallery of rogues & fools assisted him along the way. For Irish sports fans this is a total must-read!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
August 11, 2021
It's always great when a work of nonfiction feels like a novel. For a subject as seemingly obscure or mundane (?) as the governance of Irish football, this book is a good example that a good writer(s) can elevate a subject matter. Then again, perhaps John Delaney is just that engrossing of a character. A telling illustration of the way much more than Irish football is actually run
June 16, 2021
This book is fantastic.
It approaches the football world - specifically the FAI, but to some extent FIFA and UEFA - with a level of detail that makes it seem like the sport counter part to the book Bad Blood.
Utterly fascinating, brilliantly written and incredibly in-depth.
It approaches the football world - specifically the FAI, but to some extent FIFA and UEFA - with a level of detail that makes it seem like the sport counter part to the book Bad Blood.
Utterly fascinating, brilliantly written and incredibly in-depth.
September 23, 2020
Fantastic journalism
Fantastic journalism of the shocking tenure of Delaney & co. Eye watering levels of corruption. Well done to both journalists on exposing him
Fantastic journalism of the shocking tenure of Delaney & co. Eye watering levels of corruption. Well done to both journalists on exposing him
September 25, 2020
Superb
A brilliant read for all Irish football fans. Discover the real John Delaney and shocking incompetent FAI Board and how they destroyed footballs governing body.
A brilliant read for all Irish football fans. Discover the real John Delaney and shocking incompetent FAI Board and how they destroyed footballs governing body.
September 27, 2020
Brilliant read. Outstanding work by two journalists to uncover the corruption and free reign Delaney had at the FAI
September 29, 2020
Incredible read.
Outstanding read. A sad and maddening journey through the FAI. The rise and fall of the power hungry CEO is almost unbelievable.
Outstanding read. A sad and maddening journey through the FAI. The rise and fall of the power hungry CEO is almost unbelievable.
October 18, 2020
Brilliant and simply mind boggling
John Delaney is a crook ,absolutely outrageous what he got away with during his time at the fai. Must read for any Irish football fan
John Delaney is a crook ,absolutely outrageous what he got away with during his time at the fai. Must read for any Irish football fan
May 12, 2024
An incredibly detailed and damning review at the mismanagement, incompetence and disrespect displayed by Delaney and the FAI over the course of 20+ years. Only criticism would be the shear amount of names in play - so I agree with another review some sort of flow chart showing the ever-changing FAI hierarchy would be useful but otherwise really stellar journalism.
March 18, 2021
Lock him up and take away his money
June 24, 2023
What an egotistical crook…..with no understanding of how wrong he was. Great second half detailing how the scandal emerged into the public eye, but as a non football fan, I found the first half less interesting.
October 20, 2020
“Champagne Football” is a jaw-dropping, frequently infuriating, but hugely important account of John Delaney’s corrupt mismanagement of the Football Association of Ireland (FAI). As chief executive of the FAI for almost two decades, John Delaney ran the organisation like a personal slush fund, doling out coffers to reward his loyal acolytes, and ruthlessly intimidating any internal opponent or media outlet who attempted to highlight his financial incompetence and corruption. John Delaney’s maladministration would have driven the FAI into bankruptcy had the reporting of the investigative journalists Mark Tighe and Paul Rowan not brought him down in March 2019. “Champagne Football” is Tighe and Rowan’s richly-deserved lap of honour.
The level of detail in “Champagne Football” about John Delaney’s grotesque misrule is head-spinning and mind-boggling. Under Delaney, the FAI was effectively run like a pyramid scheme (particularly during the scandal around the ‘Vantage Club’ tickets), with no checks or balances on the power of the chief executive, and a board of directors cowed by a combination of fear and groupthink. John Delaney cuts a repugnant figure, using the funds of the FAI (and by extension the Irish taxpayer) to bankroll a lavish ultra-bling lifestyle seemingly motivated by a pathetic mid-life crisis. His only core principle appears to be a psychodramatic urge to avenge his father (who also happened to have been a previous CEO of the FAI) by routing the critics who ousted him in another of the organisation’s interminable financial scandals.
Some of the early chapters on the inner machinations of FAI politics are a bit of a slog (it can be hard to keep track of how FAI blazer A shafted blazer B over blazer C’s credit card accounts). But, perhaps this speaks more to Tighe & Rowan’s forensic attention to detail, and how no other Irish journalists have such a depth of knowledge about the FAI and ‘where the bodies are buried’ within that benighted organisation.
What “Champagne Football” indirectly reveals is the silent complicity of much of Ireland’s media – and, indeed, many Irish football supporters – in Delaney’s misrule of the FAI. The details of John Delaney’s often litigious efforts to silence internal and external critics certainly represent a strong argument for an overhaul of Ireland’s arcane libel laws. Ultimately, this is more than just a football or sports story; “Champagne Football” is an indictment not just of FAI corruption, but of the continuing potential for the abuse of power in Irish society.
The level of detail in “Champagne Football” about John Delaney’s grotesque misrule is head-spinning and mind-boggling. Under Delaney, the FAI was effectively run like a pyramid scheme (particularly during the scandal around the ‘Vantage Club’ tickets), with no checks or balances on the power of the chief executive, and a board of directors cowed by a combination of fear and groupthink. John Delaney cuts a repugnant figure, using the funds of the FAI (and by extension the Irish taxpayer) to bankroll a lavish ultra-bling lifestyle seemingly motivated by a pathetic mid-life crisis. His only core principle appears to be a psychodramatic urge to avenge his father (who also happened to have been a previous CEO of the FAI) by routing the critics who ousted him in another of the organisation’s interminable financial scandals.
Some of the early chapters on the inner machinations of FAI politics are a bit of a slog (it can be hard to keep track of how FAI blazer A shafted blazer B over blazer C’s credit card accounts). But, perhaps this speaks more to Tighe & Rowan’s forensic attention to detail, and how no other Irish journalists have such a depth of knowledge about the FAI and ‘where the bodies are buried’ within that benighted organisation.
What “Champagne Football” indirectly reveals is the silent complicity of much of Ireland’s media – and, indeed, many Irish football supporters – in Delaney’s misrule of the FAI. The details of John Delaney’s often litigious efforts to silence internal and external critics certainly represent a strong argument for an overhaul of Ireland’s arcane libel laws. Ultimately, this is more than just a football or sports story; “Champagne Football” is an indictment not just of FAI corruption, but of the continuing potential for the abuse of power in Irish society.
October 29, 2021
Champagne Football tells a story well known to those who followed the fall of John Delaney as it happened, but it's none the less remarkable - or galling - in the retelling. Tighe and Rowan - the two Sunday Times journalists who broke the story in the first place, and to whom Irish football owes a rather large debt of gratitude - go back to the fall of Delaney's father to chart the rise of Delaney óg, through Saipan and the Genesis Report, and then the early rumblings of financial issues (in particular the women's national team's strike) and the now infamous €100k cheque. (Strangely, one of the few omissions in the story around the latter is why were the FAI using cheques for quick cash flow, when they take a couple of days to clear?)
The second half of the book - broadly speaking, the Sunday Times investigation part - is interesting in its more up front and personal experience of John Delaney. While board minutes and anecdotes provide insights into Delaney's character before this, it's only when the authors get to look into the whites of his eyes that you fully realise his modus operandi, with the infamous appearance in front of the Oireachtas Committee and the attempted injunction against the Sunday Times the best examples. Very few in the FAI come out well from this - in addition to Delaney, serious questions are asked of directors, senior finance staff, auditors, Government and even UEFA, all of whom are completely taken in by Delaney. Infuriatingly, the book ends with everyone essentially getting away scot-free; two years later, Delaney is still fobbing off the ODCE, while most of the rest simply quietly resign with real no loss of face. The auditors, most notably, take a leaf out of Delaney's own book and simply refuse to answer any questions at the FAI AGM.
There is a deeper book to be written on Delaney's time at the FAI - whether the rapid increase in turnover was really anything to do with him or was simply a symptom of football's global growth in the period, whether the corresponding increase in expenditure was based around any reasonable plan, or even just an analysis of how his strategic vision failed so badly that (as briefly touched on towards the end here) the League of Ireland and the national team went backwards under his regime, and have continued to do so since. This never pretends to be that book of course, and the story it tells is both interesting and valuable in and of itself. But if the authors are at a loose end and fancy a sequel, there'd be few better placed to tell it.
The second half of the book - broadly speaking, the Sunday Times investigation part - is interesting in its more up front and personal experience of John Delaney. While board minutes and anecdotes provide insights into Delaney's character before this, it's only when the authors get to look into the whites of his eyes that you fully realise his modus operandi, with the infamous appearance in front of the Oireachtas Committee and the attempted injunction against the Sunday Times the best examples. Very few in the FAI come out well from this - in addition to Delaney, serious questions are asked of directors, senior finance staff, auditors, Government and even UEFA, all of whom are completely taken in by Delaney. Infuriatingly, the book ends with everyone essentially getting away scot-free; two years later, Delaney is still fobbing off the ODCE, while most of the rest simply quietly resign with real no loss of face. The auditors, most notably, take a leaf out of Delaney's own book and simply refuse to answer any questions at the FAI AGM.
There is a deeper book to be written on Delaney's time at the FAI - whether the rapid increase in turnover was really anything to do with him or was simply a symptom of football's global growth in the period, whether the corresponding increase in expenditure was based around any reasonable plan, or even just an analysis of how his strategic vision failed so badly that (as briefly touched on towards the end here) the League of Ireland and the national team went backwards under his regime, and have continued to do so since. This never pretends to be that book of course, and the story it tells is both interesting and valuable in and of itself. But if the authors are at a loose end and fancy a sequel, there'd be few better placed to tell it.
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