As a chubby 10-year-old, Andy Farrell was on a rugby league team who were collected for training in a clapped-out minibus driven by their Orrell St James coach. Cannily, this meant the boys had no excuse for not attending. Yet the coach’s commitment made a lasting impression on Farrell, who loved the banter and how the experience bonded the team together. It’s just one story in this vivid and absorbing book that illustrates how the values learned early in life have infused Farrell’s coaching philosophy.
His infectious desire that his teams inspire their community also stems from childhood, and his account of growing up in Wigan is engaging. Farrell’s loyalty to Wigan is matched by his passion for rugby league (“cut-throat”, “brutal”), a passion shared by the whole town. The rivalry between Wigan and other northern “league” clubs like Salford and St Helens is savage.
Memorably comparing the intensity to that of the Leinster Schools Senior Cup, Farrell revels in the game’s ferocity and the antagonism of its supporters, who occasionally take the law into their own hands. During an under-15 game, his mother invades the pitch to extract Farrell from a brawl, whacking opponents with an umbrella. When Salford fans sing unprintable insults about her son, she beards the Salford chairman in his den.
Years later, Farrell’s wife Colleen rings her husband; their son Owen is being abused from the sideline during a match, and at one stage an opposing parent pushes Owen – aged 11 – to the ground. In another under-age game Colleen runs on to calm an enraged and vengeful Owen, before persuading the referee to send him and his tormentor off.
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Farrell’s talent and leadership qualities were evident from an early age. At 14 (6ft 2in, 89kg) he trained with Wigan seniors; within two years he was playing for them. Intriguingly, Farrell knew at 16 that he wanted someday to be a coach, and began keeping notes of what tactics worked – or didn’t. His playing career was remarkable: he captained Wigan aged 20, becoming Britain’s youngest captain a few months later. While his transition to rugby union was marred by injury, he played for England before becoming their defence coach, and then moving to Ireland.
Family matters enormously to Farrell. A notable element of his thinking as coach is that players’ families are included in events, so the players feel supported and can share the experience with loved ones.
His relationship with Owen is another fascinating theme. Born four months after Farrell’s 16th birthday, Owen shows an affinity for league and football – he has trials for Manchester United – before committing to rugby union. During their time together at Saracens, in one game Andy is subbed off for his son. Owen inherits his father’s ability and work ethic, but Farrell is disgusted by the abuse his son receives from so-called fans.
Farrell contends that unlike the “more respectful” Irish public, England has a history of knocking players. The persecution that forces Owen to step back from international rugby is painful for them both. Uniquely among current international rugby coaches, Farrell faces the dilemma of whether to select his son. There’s a moving account of Farrell asking Owen to be part of the 2025 Lions squad. In tears, Owen refuses, concerned at how the fallout would affect him, his father and the squad. (Later, Owen agrees to join up as a replacement).
The book is more revealing about Farrell than Joe Schmidt’s Ordinary Joe, perhaps because of judicious probing by Gavin Mairs, who “helped get my story out of me”. However, there are no new insights into Ireland’s successes – and failures – under his reign. Farrell is the current Irish coach, so it’s perhaps understandable that he does not criticise his employer or players he’s still coaching. Not one for regrets (“life is always about tomorrow”), he’s clear-eyed and unsentimental: “People want sport to be a fairy tale, but it never is.”

What’s striking is his voracious appetite for hard work, his need to keep challenging himself (“If you haven’t got pressure, life isn’t worth living”), and his empathetic willingness to trust players to be themselves. His bluff demeanour conceals a dry wit: on hearing players proclaim what “fun” it is in camp, Farrell wonders ruefully if people will think they’re “soft”.
Honesty, clarity, dedication, grit and the respect of one’s peers (“the only currency that matters”); if these values seem old-fashioned, they are what made Farrell the success he is, and the standards to which he holds his high-achieving – and happy – teams. The boy in the Wigan minibus has come a long way.
John O’Donnell’s short story collection Mr Hoo and other stories will be published by Doire Press in 2026.