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From 6 July 2007. In the week that Geezer the manager led Kildare to the All Ireland semi-final, we recall Ger’s paeon to his brilliance as a player.

This week, Ger Manas takes a fond and fatherly look at one of the modern greats. Film buff, footballer, fans’ favourite and all round fun guy, Armagh’s indomitable leader Kieran McGeeney – fighting the good fight this Sunday against Derry.

I spent a good bit of time up with Joe Kernan’s team in 2002 when they won the All Ireland. Them fellas had more mumbo jumbo and philosophy going on than you’d believe and only half what you read in the media is true. The other half you wouldn’t believe it anyway. Jaze there was some fired-up boys altogether in that set up. I’ll tell you that South Armagh is some place – it’s no wonder folks needs helicopter to get in and out.

It was about that time I first really took much notice of that fella Kieran McGeeney. I’d always thought he was a humourless enough hoor of a boy – I mind one night the Armagh team was on telly – they’d won the Anglo-Celt and it was Kieran’s first year as captain. He looked like some man had pissed on his pasta instead of having just won Ulster. I could understand him now lookin’ as bored as a hooker at the end of a shift but in them days Armagh was still all fur coat and dirty drawers. Sez I to mesel’ thon boy would need a shot of something to crack thon smile. Nowadays, well he still looks dour enough betimes but I’ll tell ye, he’s the real McCoy. I met him again at a do one night after Tyrone beat them in 2005 and I sez Kieran, no matter what, you need to come back. If you don’t people will think you give up cos you was bate and no man wants to spend all their days thinking about standing on a sideline watching them Tyrone hoors pull away. He says ‘Your right Ger. By the way have you seen the new Harry Potter movie?’

Ye soon learn. Well there’s some fellas that smile when they shouldn’ and others go round the field scowlin at everyone. That Ciaran Whelan for example sickens my shite with the f***in stupid big Sepp Maier gloves on, grinning like yer man jaws outa James Bond. Jaze I love oul James Bond. Once I got over the fact he was English – thanks to me oul mate Sean Connery that I played golf with once – I thought James was a great lad. He tackled some women did James Bond – reminded me one time I went on a rugby tour and there was a public school centre played for us – got caught goin’ flat out under the cover of a lifeboat. ‘You’ll only live twice.’ I remember him saying to me, as this young one tore her dress on a splinter getting out of it. That’s one thing me and Kieran share – a love of good films. He had me watching that American football show about Inches. I couldn’t understand a word them big black fellas were sayin’ – they never spoke like that when I was on the sites in London. Anyway, not many people know that he watches Cool Hand Luke again and again and can eat a hundred hard boiled eggs. He is William Wallace.

Anyway, you wouldn’t catch McGeeney ridin’ in Lifeboats. No Sir, he’d be on the captain’s deck, steering the ship and if she went down, he’d go down with her. I was talking here a while back about Brian Dooher. Well, Geezer as they call him does it for me too. He might have got skinned by Brian McGuigan – he told me that it was a privilege to be skinned by Brian and I have to agree – and Sean Cavanagh – but when Armagh needs him he delivers. He may be slower now, but he reads the game like a ship’s captain reads his charts. The distribution can be wonky from time to time as he gets on, but sure I have problems down below and I know how he feels when the desire is let down by the performance – part of getting older Kieran me oul son.

See McGeeney is a gaelic and athletic man through and through. He’s no dead fish – I hear he eats fish sandwiches with nothin’ on them – and he goes with no flow. Players round the place would do well to look at McGeeney with his press ups using one wee finger, his attention to detail, his inches all round him. One thing he should do is cut the chat – a man that’s done what he’s done and won what he’s won doesn’t need to chattin’ down to boys. Only exception I’d make is them Aussies – jaze I loved it when he shovelled into yer man in Croker. Afterwards he sez to me, if it’s boxin’ they want, let’s call it boxin’ but don’t call it football.

I’ll be lookin’ out for him now on Sunday now, when they play Derry. I remember he toul’ the papers after they won the All Ireland about how much it meant to a man called Charlie Grant that coached him when he was a cub. Boys like McGeeney remember things like that and boys like the fella he was talkin’ about will always remember boys like McGeeney. I remember sitting in Croker in tears watching lads I had coached lose an All Ireland Final. It was like watching one of your own dyin’ and there nothin’ you could do. Difference with McGeeney is the fellas got to watch him winning. I’ll tell ye, he’d need a martini or two, but Jaze he’d make a great James Bond.

I was watching that lad Greg LeMond win the Tour de France one year I was on holiday over there. I drove about a hundred mile to watch the hoors and they flew past me in about five seconds. Anyway, LeMond won the oul thing and I remember seeing in the paper he had an abscess the size of an orange in round his bag where the shorts were chafin’. Every night the doctor would drain off what they could and the next day off he’d go, chafin’ the bit out. Always liked the ould tour and I was fierce disappointed to hear about the dopers. Anyway, my point is, yer man Tony Griffin from Clare is some fella – cyclin across Canada for his da. My cubs wouldn’t cycle to the shop to get me a pint of milk. Young Griffin’s oul boy died of cancer – so he decided to set up fundraiser. Great job and fair play to him. Dunno the details but sure if someone rattles a tin at you throw in a few Euro.