From the quiet teen with magic in his feet to the model pro, Duffer was a joy to both watch and coach, writes BRIAN KERR

SO, DUFFER leaves the international scene, typically, on a celebrated number of 100 caps. Others have crossed that sacred milestone like Packie, Shay, Stan and Robbie but really Damien has been the special one.

My first glimpse of him was at a European under-18 qualifier against Poland at Dalymount Park in October 1996. I wasn’t alone on that damp Wednesday afternoon.

The word was already about in Irish football circles – this kid could do almost anything with the football at his feet.

As circumstances transpired, I was managing him and that team at a tournament in Portugal the following Easter. Duffer ran some good young professionals ragged that week, and his form continued through a play-off against Norway.

His magical dribbling skills were assisted by a toughness that belied such a light frame. There was a wiry shape to him back then that meant he rarely went to ground.

That’s what convinced me to bring him to the under-20 World Cup in Malaysia – despite the fact he was giving away almost three years.

I had also noticed the swelling of crowds at Blackburn’s youth team games.

There was a buzz in the crowd whenever he got on the ball. His wizardry already had a following, football people knew he could produce anything at any given moment.

In Malaysia, as part of that successful Irish team, he was the shy star of the group; almost afraid to say anything to the older fellas who had qualified without him.

But everyone acknowledged early on that he had something rarely seen in an Irish player. Damien, Neale Fenn and Trevor Molloy – all small, technical forwards – tormented the opposition defenders.

“Do your own thing when you get the ball,” was all I ever said to him. Even then he had enough cop on to not try and beat a fella every time.

Damien caught the football world’s eye with his trickery and speed, scoring a memorable golden goal against Morocco that propelled us into a quarter-final against Spain. Picking the ball up wide on the left, he beat two fellas, nut-megged another before finishing past the goalkeeper.

He was picked in the tournament XI. The secret was out.

By 1998 he was an integral part of the senior national team under Mick McCarthy and also playing regularly for Roy Hodgson at Blackburn Rovers.

He has been at the core of our hopes for Irish teams these past 14 years.

He would always give you something, whether it was putting over a rake of decent crosses or winning a free kick in a decent position. When they kicked him he would get up and move on unlike others who roll around crying.

That was never Duffer’s way.

While his skill has always been admired by coaches and supporters alike, what has not always been so obvious is his personality and presence. He gained respect initially for his ability, but it is his communication skills that have been an equally important asset in Irish teams.

Damien is an intelligent man. He is very good in a one-on-one situation with other players. There is a certain way about Damien. He has class. You would always get the call back and you would get honesty too. There is a fun side to him as well that not many see.

That said, his commitment to restful preparation for games is legendary. He enjoyed his kip! But he also possesses a clever tactical brain that I felt could be better served playing in a freer role infield rather than wide in a 4-4-2.

Even Jose Mourinho at Chelsea demanded, like for Ireland, that he worked back. Same happened him at Newcastle and Fulham. It took up far too much energy for a player born to attack. Yet he never complained, merely tracked back to support players less competent in their position.

Even in Poland he spent most of the time defending. Shame. That’s why we only saw eight international goals.

If he was Spanish he would have played the Iniesta role. And sparkled.

Still, we got a lot out of our Duffer. He loves training and playing as much as any player I have had the pleasure to work with. As the years passed some of his dash and pace receded but the added strength of experience meant his influence never waned.

He got cuter and stronger, certainly better conditioned after fixing up his shoulder (I could have done with him for my last match as Republic manager against the Swiss in 2005! But he had injured his knee in the previous game against Cyprus).

I loved it when he produced one of his mesmerising performances, like the nil-all draw in Paris in 2004.

I haven’t any football pictures around my house but there is one of Duffer giving me a hug after the third placed play-off in Malaysia. That’s Damien Duff for you. He’s a good one but we’ll only see him playing nowadays at Craven Cottage or on television.

My abiding memory of his international career has to be 2002. Not the night he bamboozled the Spanish but the goal against Saudi Arabia when he instinctively bowed, Japanese style, to the crowd.

It was a sign of cultural respect that the locals loved. I don’t know any other player who would have copped that.