LIFE, LOVE AND THE BEAUTIFUL GAME

EAMON DUNPHY is asked about a picture on his sitting-room wall.

- Garry DOYLE EXCLUSIVE

It's of his younger self, taken when he was in his athletic prime, aged between 30 and 32.

Later, when we move to his kitchen and are chatting over cups of tea, he interestingly moves the conversation away from that period in his life, even though the photo depicts the smiling face of a man who has just scored a goal.

Rather than talk about that, he steers the chat to something else, to three moments in his life when he stood at career crossroads.

The first was in 1965. He had just turned 20, and his time with Manchester United was coming to an end. Birmingham City, then a top-tier club in the English football pyramid, were willing to pay £8,000 for him. Dunphy, instead, was sold to Third Division York City for half that amount, no explanation given by the United manager, Matt Busby.

"I'd hazard a guess that Busby had a payday from York," Dunphy says now. "I found out real quick after my move there that Birmingham wanted me. I was stiffed."

It wasn't the last time. A few years later he was at Millwall, living in a semi-detached house in south London, earning £30-aweek.

Tottenham Hotspur called. They were the top club in London at the time, prepared to quadruple Dunphy's wages. But the Millwall board blocked the move.

"Had that transfer happened, my life would have changed," he says.

"Millwall owned the house I lived in which was a terrible situation because it meant if you lost form, you could lose your job and also your f**king home. As a footballer, you lived with this permanent kind of fear."

There's a reason why he tells this and other stories, like when, in 1978, he realised he had to give journalism and punditry a try because the alternative was seeing his children go hungry.

"Look at me now," he smiles, "still at it."

It's Thursday morning. Jane, his wife, has gone to town. He kissed her on the cheek before she left, hugging her gently.