Saturday, 25 January 2014

Good People and Friends we have lost in the last 2 months

I'm sorry that I have not been able to write anything during the last 2 months.  Christmas made demands on my time - contacting family and friends and secondly, I had to read through the book of my life story that I commenced twenty years ago and never finished.

I am not very well this evening but I hope to feel able to tell you about the good people and friends tomorrow.   I failed to keep this promise because  I got the sad news that my dear and unfortunate sister Eileen had passed away at eighty four.
She went peacefully in the excellent nursing home in St. Albans which she had to enter  in 2,002.
Our Walter arranged to pay for her care with the proceeds from the sale of her house
 Ever since,  she had regular visits by daughters Pat and Annette and occasionally by other family members.   I feel remiss and feeble in abandoning her over the past six years.   I found it unrewarding to see her when she became unaware of my presence.   My brother Father Raoul used to come from Dublin to see her until he too felt as I did.    Now he himself is in the good care of the nuns in Sybil Hill in Clontarf.    All of us love to see him whenever we get over there  and he feels happy because among his most frequent visitors are my cousin Tony Doohan and Bridie his good wife.
The dreaded malady that I hate to refer to is Alzheimer's.   A great deal has been learned about it but the medical profession are no nearer to finding a cure or preventative.  The dementia can affect the most intelligent and learned of people.   Newspapers have recently told us about a victim who used to be among the brainiest in the football world.
Readers of the sports pages will guess that I'm referring to the one and only  Jimmy Hill.  I got to know
this genius when he came to Coventry and trained our team to attract over 50,000 spectators and reach the first division.  He also forced promoters to reward players with a decent wage and spectators with comfortable seating.    I still remember the danger we faced while standing with our children on the packed, muddy, slippery and steep terrace during exciting moments of big games against the Wolves and other rival teams in the second division.

When Hill left he had raised the image of Coventry.    My friend Noel Cantwell was tempted to come from Manchester to become manager.   While Noel succeeded in bringing the club up to sixth position  in the first division the versatile Jimmy turned to entertaining football followers everywhere with  "Match of the Day" until '98.
When we read of what some footballers earn and cost nowadays  it is interesting to compare the figures that Hill considered derisory.
When Cantwell agreed to leave West Ham for United he had  been earning £500 a week  and  he cost £29,500 which was then a record price for a defender.    As captain he led the team up the steps at Wembley in 1963 to receive the F.A. cup when they beat Leicester.   After leaving Coventry he went to experience management in New England.   On returning to Britain  he enjoyed successful years with Peterborough until he retired to become landlord of the New Inn.     But this good husband and father was to suffer cruel misfortune.   He was stricken with cancer and died in 2005.    Maggie his devoted wife was shattered and was lucky to have the support of daughters Liz and Kate.   I was glad that she recovered and was able to attend the recent funeral of that other great United defender  Bill Foulkes.
   Bill was one of the survivors of the Munich plane crash.    In his amazing career he turned out for 688 performances.  Maggie thought that Bill was like the husband she lost - men you could depend on - the sort I call -- as faithful as good dogs.
While I was growing up in Donegal  I got great pleasure  from playing the Gaelic variety of football which helped to give me strength and keep me fit.   I played for the county at minor level but although our standard was moderate I never had the skill to get on the senior team.   Best of my mates was Columba Mc Dyer from  Glenties.     Columba was not just the best among the minors I knew.   He was one of the greatest Gaelic footballers  I ever saw -- live or on television.   Among his many talents was jumping higher than opponents in catching high balls.
He attracted high praise  in 1942  when helping Ulster to win the Railway cup for the first time.
This was a competition for teams representing  the four provinces of  Ulster, Munster, Connaught and Leinster.   Donegal people were proud to have a member on that winning team.   I remember names of outstanding players like  Brian McEniff from Bundoran,  Hudie Beag Gallagher and Danny Gillespie from Gweedore, and Denis Ferry from Falcarragh but we never had more than two or three in any one year.

Columba was teaching in the county of Cavan which,  at that time,  had some of the best players  in Ulster.    For the All Ireland championship games players were eligible to play for the county they lived in.  The Cavan selectors persuaded Columba to declare for their side in '47.   In that season  GAA authorities in America invited those in Ireland to stage the All Ireland Final in New York's  Polo grounds  because it was the centenery of  Ireland's Great Famine  when one million died and another emigrated.    Of the desperate hungry people who left for America many did not survive the journey.  To this day most Irish people who go to New York visit Statin Island to say a prayer over the graves of grandparents, relatives or friends.

Those football finalists in 47 were Cavan and Kerry.   The Cavan team travelled by air while the Kerrymen came by sea.    The Kennedy family welcomed them with a banquet.     Cavan's captain  Mick Higgins  did not stay  with the team at the Commodore hotel.    As he had been born in New York  he stayed with relatives.    In the match Peter Donahue scored eight points from frees for Cavan.    Mick scored a goal and two points.   Columba added a point and  Cavan won by four points.
Columba and Mick were noted for being fair.   It was said of them : -  If all players were like them there would be no need of referees.   After retiring Mick was employed by several clubs to train their youngsters.   In 1972 he took charge of the Donegal team and they won their first Ulster title.   The experience helped them believe they could improve  and at last in 1992 they beat a great Dublin team to become All Ireland champions for the first time.
   I was shocked in 2001 when I heard of Columba's death at eighty in Letterkenny hospital.   He had so much vivacity and stamina that I thought he must outlive me by many years.

Mick and I had been partners in a number of racing greyhounds.    In 72 years  we never spoke an
unfriendly word.   I often enjoyed his hospitality and that of Mag and their wonderful family  firstly in Tullyvin and later in Virginia.   I 'm still sad to think that -- four years ago he died at 87 after a short illness.   The funeral showed how popular he was.   Three hours passed before the last mourner left the graveyard.
Famous Kenmare man Jackie Lyne -- one of Kerry's greatest stars wrote  :-  "The greatest forward I ever played against, bar none, was Mick Higgins."

The first Irish footballer I heard of being sold was Johnny Carey.   Johnny's exemplary behaviour won him Footballer Of The Year in 1949.   The only other player I remember getting this award   was Sir Stanley Matthews.  Johnny was two years older than me and I had seen him playing Gaelic and soccer.   He was going from St. James Gate in Dublin  to Manchester United for the sum of two hundred and fifty pounds.   When war broke out I respected him as a brave man because he joined up to fight for Britain.  At that time I had a friend called John Smullen who also volunteered.    I had known him from our school days and I was very upset when I heard that he was killed in Italy.
After peace was declared Johnny returned to Old Trafford.   Sir Matt Busby appointed him captain because he was a leader and had   proved reliable in several positions.   In 1948 they won the F.A. cup final against Blackpool.    Johnny is remembered among the greatest bargains  in transfer dealing.    I never had the pleasure of speaking with him but I knew his brother Luke well during the two years we lived in Clondalkin.   Luke  had a general store in Chapelizod where we bought items weekly.   He liked to join us when we were going down the country with a greyhound to a track - and more so when I told him it had a chance.   He also liked his grub  and never went far without a parcel of sandwiches in his pocket.    On one journey  to Mullingar he was sitting beside our runner on the back seat.
Nearing the track I glanced in the mirror and noticed that Luke had dozed off and the dog's nose was hidden in the parcel.   I yelled "Luke" as I braked to get the dog out.   Too late !  there was not a crumb left.   When I weighed him at the track he was 2 & a half lbs up.   The decent Racing manager -- Billy Bligh was helpful.  " You are in the last race Paddy, Its a sprint and if you want to run him you can take him for a walk and give him a chance to empty and we will weigh him again."  The dog would not stand still enough for me to be able to read his weight  but Billy said " He has lost enough".     As I was  taking him to the traps  Luke came down from the stand and said " He looks fat and I won't be backing him".    The books were shouting 5 to 1 as the hare started.    When the traps opened he was first out and led all the way and Luke was sorry he did not have the confidence to risk his money!
Greyhound followers may be interested in my winner.  His name was Wheatfield Atom.    His  Dad Mountain Emperor had won the coursing Derby  and his mum Lenten Lady was a daughter of Rebel Light.     He weighed only 56 lbs but he was keen to chase anything that moved until his stamina ran out.



In debating great footballers many people would mention Sir Stanley Matthews C.B.E.     At the age
of thirty two he had been bought from Stoke by Blackpool for a fee of £11,500.   Jane and I first saw him on television two years after we set up home in Rugby in 1951.    Frank Williams the manager of Boots had a set and invited us to his home to watch the cup final.
With twenty minutes to go Bolton were leading by 3 goals to 1.  Then Matthews turned on his magical swerve to pass his marker with the ball and send over a cross from the vicinity of the right touch line.   Stan's ploy was  to move it instantly -- and in the opposite direction to the one his opponent expected.   In most of these encounters  the marker became imbalanced and sometimes fell.     From the first  the other Stanley -- Mortensen -- crashed the ball into the net.   Supporters went wild with excitement and hope.   Their noise was deafening when  the two Stans again combined to level the scores.  With time running out Matthews sent the ball into the square once again  and this time  Bill Perry met it -- to win the cup for Blackpool.    Nat Lofthouse who had scored the first goal for Bolton sportingly stood and applauded the victors.

Matthews won fifty four caps with England  despite sharing the position  with the other great winger Tom Finney  of  Preston.  To ensure he kept fit Stan wore sheets of lead in his boots while running on the beach on most mornings.  149,000 fans saw him play for England against Scotland at Hampden Park and he played his last  International  against them at forty two.    He was never booked or sent off.   He disliked heading the ball and never practised it.
Pele said of him " He taught us the way football should be played."
The Stoke directors felt sure  that he was not finished when he was released by Blackpool    They  paid  £3,500  for  him.  Then they paid him £50 a week-- double what he was on at Blackpool  for another four years.  People still visit Hanley just to see his statue.

My older readers would expect me to mention Doctor Kevin O'Flanagan.    Kevin had been studying medicine for two years in Dublin before I started on the veterinary course.   He had already established a reputation as a gifted athlete in junior games and sporting competitions.  I first saw him playing  in a soccer match for Home Farm on a Saturday and heard that he played for Dublin's Gaelic team next day although it was against the rules of the GAA..  Shortly afterwards he signed for Bohemians senior team.   Kevin had amazing energy, vigour, enthusiasm and stamina for athletics and games.   He played handball, football, rugby and tennis and practised running, swimming, high jumping or long jumping  at every opportunity without neglecting his study of medicine.   Johnny Carey and Kevin were selected to play for Ireland's soccer team for the same match.   They were delighted when Kevin's brother Michael was capped soon afterwards.
  When Kevin qualified he joined a medical team in London and was persuaded to sign for the Arsenal club.    He played for them for three years until an injury to his ankle forced him to retire.   He became doctor to the Irish Olympic team  and this led to him becoming President of the Irish Sports Medicine Association.   His popularity helped him establish a big practice in Fitzwilliam street in Dublin.   I was very sorry to hear in 2006 that he had died in hospital from a heart condition.
   Before moving away from my memories of outstanding footballers I should mention the genius from Mozambique whom I saw playing for Benfica against Manchester United in the 1968 European Cup final.    He is remembered  for his physique,  his speed and his strength, the power of his kicks  and his sportsmanship.  Near the end of the exciting match with the scores level Eusebio was in full flight with the ball and only the goalkeeper to beat.  The crowd went silent  ...  Could Stepney stop him.?   I remember the tension.    Yes Alex saved  and the gentleman with the fierce shot stood and applauded.

         I would now like to  mention a few good friends I have lost in recent months.
Many would expect me to name Patsy Byrne from Duagh in county Kerry because he was among the most famous.    His death was also a great shock to his good wife, daughter and sons,  brother and sisters and to all who were close to him in business and in sport.   He was only sixty four  and he was always so alive, so busy and so involved with his many problems and those of others in construction, horses, greyhounds, football and many other interests.
Patsy may have come from a poor place but was brought up to be honest.    He had the enterprise to work hard and the courage to take risks.    He fully deserved to be  the big and respected figure that he was.   Yet he remained modest.   Yes, Patsy will be remembered for a very long time.



Millions of visitors to London go to London Bridge for a close up view of the Shard.
Many of them are tempted to get in the Escalator to look down on the city.
Patsy did not just go up.   He helped to put it there for us. 

             Now I would like to say a little about another great footballer whose death was reported last week wherever there were newspapers .    He was among the really good and great people I wish I had known.   He was a year younger than me.   His charitable nature won him an OBE.    Later he got a CBE and finally he was knighted.   This rare gentleman was Sir Tom Finney  and his club was Preston.  He made five hundred and sixty nine appearances and scored two hundred and ten goals for them.    He never moved to a bigger or richer club where he might be in a team of better players who could win cups and championships.   He loved his club and their supporters.    He also felt rewarded in winning seventy six caps with England  and scoring thirty goals for them.
Born into a family of six and losing his dear and loving mother when he was four taught him to work hard for the rest of his life.   He chose football first and after school he began learning about plumbing.  When he was called up during the war  he was posted to Egypt to join  Montgomery's troops.  When he retired his brother Joe joined him in the plumbing business and it became very successful.
Sir Stanley Matthews  is quoted as saying that  " to control a game a player must have awesome qualities  and  those who have done it regularly can be counted on the fingers of one hand :--  Pele,  Best,  Maradona,  Di Stefano and  Sir Tommy Finney."

My dear Dad made many sacrifices so that my younger brothers and I might qualify for professions that could lead to comfortable lives.   With two of his brothers he had been a member of the Royal
Irish Constabulary and he remained loyal to Britain during the dark days of  the war with Germany.
 Sadly he died suddenly from a heart attack in '45 three months before I passed my final exam and the war ended.  Few of those who owned animals in Ireland at the time could afford Vets' fees.   Many of
Ireland's teenagers had to emigrate somewhere to find employment .
 I chose  the cattle - boat to Holyhead where I met a decent Roscommon man who was an agent for those being imported to feed the British people.   His name was Tommy Dolan and he had a very kind wife called Maureen.   They gave me supper and a bed for the night.   They knew a vet in Anglesey called LLoyd Williams who was in poor health  and they offered to introduce me to him next day.
 Yes,  he had more cattle, sheep and shire horses as patients than he wanted and I was taken straight away to treat a cow with "red water".
 I was willing to work long hours to send money to my mother for the fees of my student brothers
Tony (medicine) and Ted (veterinary).
I remember an evening when I was called to a foaling mare near Snowdon.    Returning to base near midnight the old Austin car with bald tyres skidded off the road.   I had no telephone  to call for help and there was no heater in the car.  I was soon very cold but when the snow began to fall I was afraid to get out and walk somewhere.   I stayed shivering until a Police car came and rescued me.
  A few months later that Austin gave me a fright and might have cost me my life.    I was doing more than 50 on the way to Menai Bridge.   After passing the town with 57 letters in its name  the steering collapsed  !   The car crossed the road making a hole in the hedge on my right before stopping about thirty yards - inside a level field -without doing major damage to me or itself.

In addition to the Dolan family  I made another generous friend called  Benjamin  who was Security Officer for the Dublin passenger ferry.   Food was rationed at the time but whenever he invited me to his home there was never any shortage on his table.  Then one Saturday he asked  if I would like a trip to Dublin for the week- end.    When I replied  that I could not afford the fare he said  he had a  complimentary ticket I could have.  When he escorted me on board  he had a box on wheels.    Food was rationed at the time  and he instructed me  to bring it to his brother's meat shop in Capel street where it would be filled up.   When the return boat docked in Holyhead Benjamin came to find me and walked off with me and my load.    The customs officer just waved us past with it. !


Just a month ago I was very sorry to hear of the loss of a great friend called  Kevin Smith in Dublin.    He was among Ireland's most popular and successful solicitors.    He had been brought up in  Butlersbridge county Cavan where I knew him and his dear brother Con who died twenty years ago.   He was famous for his great love of greyhounds and there was no more celebrated winner of the Derby  than his win thirteen years ago with "Climate Control".    During week-ends in the winter months Kevin was one of the most loyal supporters of coursing.   His good wife Mairead and their eleven children can count on the support of all of us  who were lucky to know them.

Another loss that saddened me in January was that of Bonk  the wonderful wife of Peter Walwyn MBE the champion horse trainer in 74 & 75.   I well remember their kind hospitality when I called on them at their busy home and stables in 1979.   I felt welcome and privileged  to experience their empathy with their horses and with their dogs.   Their dedication earned  their most rewarding day in racing  when  Pat Eddery rode the great Grundy to victory around Epsom Downs.   I feel sure Peter will get the support he deserves to enable him to carry on with his brilliant career.

I was interested in the Derby from an early age.   I used to listen to the commentary on the radio before I first attended it in 1946.   That summer  I took a job as locum for an equine veterinary surgeon in Cheam .
That job would have been the last I would ever take if I had not been  steeped in amazing good luck.
I responded to the advertisement because I wanted to have a day off in order to attend the great race - just a few miles away.   His name was  Frank Chamberlain  and he had been in practice on his own for over forty years.   I arrived late in the day and was surprised to hear that he intended leaving early next morning to attend a race meeting in Paris.  He told me the old Hillman car in the garage would be low in petrol but I would have no problem.   I have heard this many times since but it has never reassured me.
In fact I fear there may be trouble ahead.    He had an experienced lady practice manager who would take charge in the morning ; answer any and all questions, feed me  and give me money for petrol.
My only appointment for the fore noon was at Lingfield to castrate two colts.
It was a bright sunny morning when I got into the car, started the engine  and drove out  on a clear road.    After two hundred yards  as I was thinking about overtaking two cyclists  I  suddenly realised I HAD NO  BRAKES  ?  and  was terrified of  killing the cyclists !  There was a RED CAR COMING
TOWARD ME VERY FAST....The next Mini second was the most vital of my life..... Without it my time must have been up.    Fortunately  there was an area of grass verge on my right.... and I instantly turned the steering-wheel hard toward it. ....  Simultaneously I heard the screeching of the red car's brakes ....as I reached the safety of the verge.  I still remember that moment when I opened my eyes to see that car beside mine.

The other driver gave me a lift to a pub where he had a Scotch and I had a Guinness.   I thanked him many times for his prompt braking.   He thanked me  for getting out of his way and for avoiding the cyclists.    I thanked God for the luck and quick reactions he gave me.    It was  my worst ever fright.

I postponed the trip to Lingfield until I got the new brakes.   When Mr Chamberlain returned he was
very apologetic and blamed his last assistant for failing to report the brake problem.    He allowed me a day off  to see the Derby and doubled my pay for my three weeks work.   That and my enjoyment of Airborne 's win helped to dim my memory of that old Hillman.    But of course I can never forget it unless, like my dear sister Eileen, I get the dreaded Alzheimers.

Two years later while I was working for a famous greyhound Vet in Liverpool I was equally delighted to get the opportunity of visiting an equally famous racecourse.   This time the Vet was Charley Elam, the venue was Aintree and the race was the Grand National.    It was first run in  1839 .    This time the winner was Sheila's Cottage and the jockey was A.P. Thompson.   I had first heard it broadcast in 1927 when my Dad bought a radio.   Our house was crowded with neighbours to hear the race being won by Sprig.   In  '55 I was thrilled to see the prize going to Ireland when the trainer was Vincent O'Brien and Pat Taffe rode the winner Quare Times.
 On outings to big race meetings Jane and our boys often came with me and we often had one or two friends like  Dentist John Brammar,  Boxer Johnny Williams,  Bill & Nuala Mannion,  Ray & Shirley Wisdom,  Ruth  mother  of Starter Michael Sayers,  Pete & Sheila Evans, John & Craya Black,  John McConnell,  John & Jane Spokes,  Inspector  Ossie Kerr and  our good neighbour Mr Cummins.
We also went to the '60 National won by Gerry Scott on Merryman and  to the '70 won by Pat Taffe on Gay Trip.    From coursing with greyhounds  I knew  the great trainer  Ginger McCain  and saw
 him win Nationals in  '73 & '74 when they were ridden by Brian Fletcher and again in  '77 when Tommy Stack had the ride.   I had to be there in 52 because another friend Dick Saunders was on the popular Grittar.   At 48,  Dick became the oldest rider to win the great test.  Most times I watched the
action from Beechers Brook.   In '52  I got a brilliant photo of Dick and his winner soaring over the big fence.   If I can still find it , I will use it here.    In '96  I felt drawn to one more National  when I saw that Rough Quest  the mount of Mick Fitzgerald was trained by Terry Casey.    Terry came from Rosapenna near my own old home.   His victory  was celebrated all over  and beyond our county.
Sadly and cruelly, all too soon  and at the age of  56  poor Terry was struck down by cancer.