Charlie did not react to the situation as a more experienced manager would have done, shows that he probably wasn’t used to seeing this type of behaviour as a player at his level and was unsure how to respond.
‘I think as a coach Charlie would not have been considered a tactician, but his biggest attribute as a manager was that he treated us, and looked upon us, as men. It’s a small thing, but I was a young player in those days, and a lot of managers treated players like children. But Charlie, he would lay it out for us, saying, “This is your job. Go out and do it.” He was passionate and this alone could motivate you. Going out onto the pitch, you had a job to do and you did it.
‘He was not afraid to tell you, though, if you did that job wrong. There was one game where the opposition winger pushed the ball past me, and I thought it was going for a corner, so I didn’t fully chase it back. Even though the ball went out – the linesman missed it – their winger got a cross in and they scored. Naturally, Charlie gave out to me at half-time, asking me, “Why didn’t you chase back after the ball?” I replied that I thought it had gone out. His only response to that was, “Well, then, where did it go?” The answer was it had ended up in the net and had cost us a goal. Charlie was so angry with me that he actually dropped me for the next game, which was against Torquay. As it turned out their centre-forward gave my replacement a torrid time and scored two, and at half-time he took off the other player and brought me back on. To me it showed his humility. He was angry with me from the previous game and wanted me to know it, but at the same time he wanted to do what was best for the team.
‘As a centre-half like Charlie himself, he was great to learn from. You couldn’t fail to learn from him. In those days we’d watch black-and-white videos of players, and everyone had seen King Charlie playing at Sunderland. Later on in my career I actually played at Sunderland, and when I got up there I saw exactly what he meant to the club and the respect in which he was held. It was amazing, really. We probably didn’t fully understand down in Reading, but up there you really got a feel for it.
‘Once, five of us were called into the office for a chat, and Charlie was talking to the strikers about how they needed to get stuck in more and to stop being so airy-fairy, to use his own language. As Charlie was talking, there was a wasp flying around the room. Even though we were listening, the wasp was a bit distracting, and it eventually landed on the phone. Suddenly, Charlie swatted the wasp, and he turned and said to the strikers, “That’s exactly what I mean. I want you to have killer instincts.” It summed the situation up nicely for all of us involved and it just seemed to perfectly emphasise the point he was trying to get across.
‘Charlie was a hard and fair man. As I said before, he would have benefited from having an established right-hand man with him, but he was also lucky that the Reading changing-room was full of strong characters in those days. When he resigned the players didn’t want him to go. We all went down to his office to discuss it with him. It showed the respect we had for him. It’s something you rarely hear of now in football.’
Before his time with Reading, Hurley had a taste of management with Ireland, but he was still a player himself and had limited impact on the squad that was picked. His main role was to motivate and organise the team. He would often turn up to a game to find that different players, players he had not seen play or had not even met before, had been called into the team at the last minute. Players were brought in and put anywhere. There was little of the organisation that was to come in future years, as Eoin Hand recalls: ‘I remember I made my debut under Hurley. I came on as a sub for Mick Leech, who was a centre-forward, and Charlie Hurley said to me, “Go on
‘I think as a coach Charlie would not have been considered a tactician, but his biggest attribute as a manager was that he treated us, and looked upon us, as men. It’s a small thing, but I was a young player in those days, and a lot of managers treated players like children. But Charlie, he would lay it out for us, saying, “This is your job. Go out and do it.” He was passionate and this alone could motivate you. Going out onto the pitch, you had a job to do and you did it.
‘He was not afraid to tell you, though, if you did that job wrong. There was one game where the opposition winger pushed the ball past me, and I thought it was going for a corner, so I didn’t fully chase it back. Even though the ball went out – the linesman missed it – their winger got a cross in and they scored. Naturally, Charlie gave out to me at half-time, asking me, “Why didn’t you chase back after the ball?” I replied that I thought it had gone out. His only response to that was, “Well, then, where did it go?” The answer was it had ended up in the net and had cost us a goal. Charlie was so angry with me that he actually dropped me for the next game, which was against Torquay. As it turned out their centre-forward gave my replacement a torrid time and scored two, and at half-time he took off the other player and brought me back on. To me it showed his humility. He was angry with me from the previous game and wanted me to know it, but at the same time he wanted to do what was best for the team.
‘As a centre-half like Charlie himself, he was great to learn from. You couldn’t fail to learn from him. In those days we’d watch black-and-white videos of players, and everyone had seen King Charlie playing at Sunderland. Later on in my career I actually played at Sunderland, and when I got up there I saw exactly what he meant to the club and the respect in which he was held. It was amazing, really. We probably didn’t fully understand down in Reading, but up there you really got a feel for it.
‘Once, five of us were called into the office for a chat, and Charlie was talking to the strikers about how they needed to get stuck in more and to stop being so airy-fairy, to use his own language. As Charlie was talking, there was a wasp flying around the room. Even though we were listening, the wasp was a bit distracting, and it eventually landed on the phone. Suddenly, Charlie swatted the wasp, and he turned and said to the strikers, “That’s exactly what I mean. I want you to have killer instincts.” It summed the situation up nicely for all of us involved and it just seemed to perfectly emphasise the point he was trying to get across.
‘Charlie was a hard and fair man. As I said before, he would have benefited from having an established right-hand man with him, but he was also lucky that the Reading changing-room was full of strong characters in those days. When he resigned the players didn’t want him to go. We all went down to his office to discuss it with him. It showed the respect we had for him. It’s something you rarely hear of now in football.’
Before his time with Reading, Hurley had a taste of management with Ireland, but he was still a player himself and had limited impact on the squad that was picked. His main role was to motivate and organise the team. He would often turn up to a game to find that different players, players he had not seen play or had not even met before, had been called into the team at the last minute. Players were brought in and put anywhere. There was little of the organisation that was to come in future years, as Eoin Hand recalls: ‘I remember I made my debut under Hurley. I came on as a sub for Mick Leech, who was a centre-forward, and Charlie Hurley said to me, “Go on
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