40cm x 23cm Thurles Co Tipperary
The All-Ireland Junior Hurling Championship was a hurling competition organized by the Gaelic Athletic Association in Ireland. The competition was originally contested by the second teams of the strong counties, and the first teams of the weaker counties. In the years from 1961 to 1973 and from 1997 until now, the strong counties have competed for the All-Ireland Intermediate Hurling Championship instead. The competition was then restricted to the weaker counties. The competition was discontinued after 2004 as these counties now compete for the Nicky Rackard Cup instead. From 1974 to 1982, the original format of the competition was abandoned, and the competition was incorporated in Division 3 of the National Hurling League. The original format, including the strong hurling counties was re-introduced in 1983.
1930 – TIPPERARY: Paddy Harty (Captain), Tom Harty, Willie Ryan, Tim Connolly, Mick McGann, Martin Browne, Ned Wade, Tom Ryan, Jack Dwyer, Mick Ryan, Dan Looby, Pat Furlong, Bill O’Gorman, Joe Fletcher, Sean Harrington.
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978.
40cm x 30cm
There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978.
There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish.
Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
However, when coach Des Barry resigned for personal reasons, Munster turned once again to Kiernan. Being the great Munster man that he was and remains, Tom was happy to oblige although as an extremely shrewd observer of the game, one also suspected that he spotted something special in this group of players that had escaped most peoples’ attention. He refused to be dismayed by what he saw in the games in London, instead regarding them as crucial in the build-up to the All Blacks encounter. He was, in fact, ahead of his time, as he laid his hands on video footage of the All Blacks games, something unheard of back in those days, nor was he averse to the idea of making changes in key positions. A major case in point was the introduction of London Irish loose-head prop Les White of whom little was known in Munster rugby circles but who convinced the coaching team he was the ideal man to fill a troublesome position.
Kiernan was also being confronted by many other difficult issues. The team he envisaged taking the field against the tourists was composed of six players (Larry Moloney, Seamus Dennison, Gerry McLoughlin, Pat Whelan, Brendan Foley and Colm Tucker) based in Limerick, four (Greg Barrett, Jimmy Bowen, Moss Finn and Christy Cantillon) in Cork, four more (Donal Canniffe, Tony Ward, Moss Keane and Donal Spring) in Dublin and Les White who, according to Keane, “hailed from somewhere in England, at that time nobody knew where”.
Always bearing in mind that the game then was totally amateur and these guys worked for a living, for most people it would have been impossible to bring them all together on a regular basis for six weeks before the match. But the level of respect for Kiernan was so immense that the group would have walked on the proverbial bed of nails for him if he so requested. So they turned up every Wednesday in Fermoy — a kind of halfway house for the guys travelling from three different locations and over appreciable distances.
Those sessions helped to forge a wonderful team spirit. After all, guys who had been slogging away at work only a short few hours previously would hardly make that kind of sacrifice unless they meant business.
October 31, 1978 dawned wet and windy, prompting hope among the faithful that the conditions would suit Munster who could indulge in their traditional approach sometimes described rather vulgarly as “boot, bite and bollock” and, who knows, with the fanatical Thomond Park crowd cheering them on, anything could happen. Ironically, though, the wind and rain had given way to a clear, blue sky and altogether perfect conditions in good time for the kick-off.
Surely, now, that was Munster’s last hope gone — but that didn’t deter more than 12,000 fans from making their way to Thomond Park and somehow finding a spot to view the action. The vantage points included hundreds seated on the 20-foot high boundary wall, others perched on the towering trees immediately outside the ground and some even watched from the windows of houses at the Ballynanty end that have since been demolished.
The atmosphere was absolutely electric as the teams took the field, the All Blacks performed the Haka and the Welsh referee Corris Thomas got things under way.
The first few skirmishes saw the teams sizing each other up before an incident that was to be recorded in song and story occurred, described here — with just the slightest touch of hyperbole! — by Terry McLean in his book ‘Mourie’s All Blacks’.
“In only the fifth minute, Seamus Dennison, him the fellow that bore the number 13 jersey in the centre, was knocked down in a tackle. He came from the Garryowen club which might explain his subsequent actions — to join that club, so it has been said, one must walk barefooted over broken glass, charge naked through searing fires, run the severest gauntlets and, as a final test of manhood, prepare with unfaltering gaze to make a catch of the highest ball ever kicked while aware that at least eight thundering members of your own team are about to knock you down, trample all over you and into the bargain hiss nasty words at you because you forgot to cry out ‘Mark’.
Moss Keane recalled the incident: “It was the hardest tackle I have ever seen and lifted the whole team. That was the moment we knew we could win the game.” Kiernan also acknowledged the importance of “The Tackle”.
He said: “Tackling is as integral a part of rugby as is a majestic centre three-quarter break. There were two noteworthy tackles during the match by Seamus Dennison. He was injured in the first and I thought he might have to come off. But he repeated the tackle some minutes later.”
Many years on, Stuart Wilson vividly recalled the Dennison tackles and spoke about them in remarkable detail and with commendable honesty: “The move involved me coming in from the blind side wing and it had been working very well on tour. It was a workable move and it was paying off so we just kept rolling it out. Against Munster, the gap opened up brilliantly as it was supposed to except that there was this little guy called Seamus Dennison sitting there in front of me.
“He just basically smacked the living daylights out of me. I dusted myself off and thought, I don’t want to have to do that again. Ten minutes later, we called the same move again thinking we’d change it slightly but, no, it didn’t work and I got hammered again.”
The game was 11 minutes old when the most famous try in the history of Munster rugby was scored.
Tom Kiernan recalled: “It came from a great piece of anticipation by Bowen who in the first place had to run around his man to get to Ward’s kick ahead. He then beat two men and when finally tackled, managed to keep his balance and deliver the ball to Cantillon who went on to score. All of this was evidence of sharpness on Bowen’s part.”
Very soon it would be 9-0. In the first five minutes, a towering garryowen by skipper Canniffe had exposed the vulnerability of the New Zealand rearguard under the high ball. They were to be examined once or twice more but it was from a long range but badly struck penalty attempt by Ward that full-back Brian McKechnie knocked on some 15 yards from his line and close to where Cantillon had touched down a few minutes earlier. You could sense White, Whelan, McLoughlin and co in the front five of the Munster scrum smacking their lips as they settled for the scrum. A quick, straight put-in by Canniffe, a well controlled heel, a smart pass by the scrum-half to Ward and the inevitability of a drop goal. And that’s exactly what happened.
The All Blacks enjoyed the majority of forward possession but the harder they tried, the more they fell into the trap set by the wily Kiernan and so brilliantly carried out by every member of the Munster team.
The tourists might have edged the line-out contest through Andy Haden and Frank Oliver but scrum-half Mark Donaldson endured a miserable afternoon as the Munster forwards poured through and buried him in the Thomond Park turf.
As the minutes passed and the All Blacks became more and more unsure as to what to try next, the Thomond Park hordes chanted “Munster-Munster–Munster” to an ever increasing crescendo until with 12 minutes to go, the noise levels reached deafening proportions.
And then ... a deep, probing kick by Ward put Wilson under further pressure. Eventually, he stumbled over the ball as it crossed the line and nervously conceded a five-metre scrum. The Munster heel was disrupted but the ruck was won, Tucker gained possession and slipped a lovely little pass to Ward whose gifted feet and speed of thought enabled him in a twinkle to drop a goal although surrounded by a swarm of black jerseys. So the game entered its final 10 minutes with the All Blacks needing three scores to win and, of course, that was never going to happen.
Munster knew this, so, too, did the All Blacks. Stu Wilson admitted as much as he explained his part in Wardy’s second drop goal: “Tony Ward banged it down, it bounced a little bit, jigged here, jigged there, and I stumbled, fell over, and all of a sudden the heat was on me. They were good chasers. A kick is a kick — but if you have lots of good chasers on it, they make bad kicks look good. I looked up and realised — I’m not going to run out of here so I just dotted it down. I wasn’t going to run that ball back out at them because five of those mad guys were coming down the track at me and I’m thinking, I’m being hit by these guys all day and I’m looking after my body, thank you. Of course it was a five-yard scrum and Ward banged over another drop goal. That was it, there was the game”.
The final whistle duly sounded with Munster 12 points ahead but the heroes of the hour still had to get off the field and reach the safety of the dressing room. Bodies were embraced, faces were kissed, backs were pummelled, you name it, the gauntlet had to be walked. Even the All Blacks seemed impressed with the sense of joy being released all about them. Andy Haden recalled “the sea of red supporters all over the pitch after the game, you could hardly get off for the wave of celebration that was going on. The whole of Thomond Park glowed in the warmth that someone had put one over on the Blacks.”
Controversially, the All Blacks coach, Jack Gleeson (usually a man capable of accepting the good with the bad and who passed away of cancer within 12 months of the tour), in an unguarded (although possibly misunderstood) moment on the following day, let slip his innermost thoughts on the game.
“We were up against a team of kamikaze tacklers,” he lamented. “We set out on this tour to play 15-man rugby but if teams were to adopt the Munster approach and do all they could to stop the All Blacks from playing an attacking game, then the tour and the game would suffer.”
It was interpreted by the majority of observers as a rare piece of sour grapes from a group who had accepted the defeat in good spirit and it certainly did nothing to diminish Munster respect for the All Blacks and their proud rugby tradition.
And Tom Kiernan and Andy Haden, rugby standard bearers of which their respective countries were justifiably proud, saw things in a similar light.
“Jack’s comment was made in the context of the game and meant as a compliment,” Haden maintained. “Indeed, it was probably a little suggestion to his own side that perhaps we should imitate their efforts and emulate them in that department.”
Tom Kiernan went along with this line of thought: “I thought he was actually paying a compliment to the Munster spirit. Kamikaze pilots were very brave men. That’s what I took out of that. I didn’t think it was a criticism of Munster.”
And Stuart Wilson? “It was meant purely as a compliment. We had been travelling through the UK and winning all our games. We were playing a nice, open style. But we had never met a team that could get up in our faces and tackle us off the field. Every time you got the ball, you didn’t get one player tackling you, you got four. Kamikaze means people are willing to die for the cause and that was the way with every Munster man that day. Their strengths were that they were playing for Munster, that they had a home Thomond Park crowd and they took strength from the fact they were playing one of the best teams in the world.”
You could rely on Terry McLean (famed New Zealand journalist) to be fair and sporting in his reaction to the Thomond Park defeat. Unlike Kiernan and Haden, he scorned Jack Gleeson’s “kamikaze” comment, stating that “it was a stern, severe criticism which wanted in fairness on two grounds. It did not sufficiently praise the spirit of Munster or the presence within the one team of 15 men who each emerged from the match much larger than life-size. Secondly, it was disingenuous or, more accurately, naive.”
“Gleeson thought it sinful that Ward had not once passed the ball. It was worse, he said, that Munster had made aggressive defence the only arm of their attack. Now, what on earth, it could be asked, was Kiernan to do with his team? He held a fine hand with top trumps in Spring, Cantillon, Foley and Whelan in the forwards and Canniffe, Ward, Dennison, Bowen and Moloney in the backs. Tommy Kiernan wasn’t born yesterday. He played to the strength of his team and upon the suspected weaknesses of the All Blacks.”
You could hardly be fairer than that – even if Graham Mourie himself in his 1983 autobiography wasn’t far behind when observing: “Munster were just too good. From the first time Stu Wilson was crashed to the ground as he entered the back line to the last time Mark Donaldson was thrown backwards as he ducked around the side of a maul. They were too good.”
One of the nicest tributes of all came from a famous New Zealand photographer, Peter Bush. He covered numerous All Black tours, was close friends with most of their players and a canny one when it came to finding the ideal position from which to snap his pictures. He was the guy perched precariously on the pillars at the entrance to the pitch as the celebrations went on and which he described 20 years later in his book ‘Who Said It’s Only a Game?’
“I climbed up on a gate at the end of the game to get this photo and in the middle of it all is Moss Keane, one of the great characters of Irish rugby, with an expression of absolute elation. The All Blacks lost 12-0 to a side that played with as much passion as I have ever seen on a rugby field. The great New Zealand prop Gary Knight said to me later: ‘We could have played them for a fortnight and we still wouldn’t have won’. I was doing a little radio piece after the game and got hold of Moss Keane and said ‘Moss, I wonder if ...’ and he said, ‘ho, ho, we beat you bastards’.
“With that, he flung his arms around me and dragged me with him into the shower. I finally managed to disentangle myself and killed the tape. I didn’t mind really because it had been a wonderful day.”
Dimensions :47cm x 57cm
Unfashionably – even eccentrically – bred, and strangely marked, he was a two-year-old of exceptional merit, a champion sire and, despite being sub-fertile and retired early from stud duties, he wielded tremendous influence on the breed.
A racehorse of blinding speed, though bred to stay extreme distances.
A stallion colossus who proved the cornerstone of an everlasting host of equine celebrities from flying machines to Grand National winners.
The supreme nonpareil giant of turf history known as The Tetrarch was truly a freak of nature and, in his esteemed trainer’s words, “there will never be his likes again”.
THE TETRARCH
Early Years
Edward "Cub" Kennedy
Born in 1911 on April 22nd at Edward “Cub” Kennedy’s Straffan Station Stud in Kildare, not far from where the present Goffs Sales complex is located. The Tetrarch was born chesnut with black “Bend Or spots” (so called after his Derby winning great-grandsire) which later transformed into his famous grey with splotches of white coat, that saddled him with the nickname “The Rocking Horse”.
Every grey horse must have at least one grey parent and The Tetrarch inherited his colour from his sire. A direct line of his grey ancestors can be traced, like all grey thoroughbreds, back to one grey stallion in the original Weatherbys Stud Book named Alcocks Arabian, who was born around the turn of the 18th century and had his origins in Syria.
When Cub Kennedy hastily arranged liaison of Roi Herode and Vahren in the late spring of 1910, he had been obsessed with the idea of reviving the apparently moribund male line of Herod. Could there be a more aptly named stallion for the job than Roi Herode? It was already nearly three months into the breeding season when Kennedy purchased his new stallion and he had little chance of attracting many outside mares, but he did have a couple due to foal late himself, one being Vahren.
Kennedy decided to send the young Tetrarch to the 1912 Doncaster yearling sales and he knew that for make and shape there would be few to match him. Atty Persse duly had to go to 1,300gns to secure the colt for his patron Dermot McCalmont.
When his jockey Steve Donoghue first saw him he described The Tetrarch as “a sort of elephant grey with big blotches, as though someone had splashed him with handfuls of wet lime”. However, once his brilliance on the racecourse became apparent, it wasn’t long before “The Rocking Horse” became “The Spotted Wonder”, a name that one hundred years on still resonates with horse racing aficionados around the world.
THE TETRARCH
Racing Career
The Tetrarch winning the Woodcote Stakes at Epsom
At the age of two The Tetrarch had developed into a magnificent individual and was showing phenomenal speed on the gallops. He made his first public appearance in a novice plate at Newmarket on April 17th 1913 – just five days short of his birthday and blew his twenty rivals away to win “in a canter” by 4 lengths.
His second appearance was in the Woodcote Stakes at Epsom, traditionally the first six furlong juvenile race of the season, occurred the day before suffragette Emily Davison was fatally injured in the Derby. The Tetrarch took the race in hand rounding Tattenham Corner and won easily by three lengths, according to the British Bloodstock Review, “It was generally agreed that not since the days of Pretty Polly had a two-year-old accomplished a more impressive performance.”
The Coventry Stakes at Royal Ascot was next, then run at five furlongs, and The Tetrarch won pulling up “with his mouth open”, his closest competitor trailed in 10 lengths behind. On July 19th to packed stands, he lined up for Britian’s richest two year old race, the National Breeders’ Produce Stakes (now the National Stakes) at Sandown. This was the only time The Tetrarch came close to defeat, scrambling home by a neck conceding 17 lbs to the runner-up. What onlookers didn’t know, as poor visibility obscured the view from the stands, was that The Tetrarch was severely hindered at the start. This is an account from jockey Steve Donoghue’s biography, “As the tapes went up, The Tetrarch got some of them tangled in his mouth, causing him to rear. On coming down he cannoned against another horse and fell to his knees. Although his plight had seemed hopeless, Steve set off in pursuit. The Tetrarch almost lifted him out of the saddle with his supercharged power as he came nearer and near his rivals with every stride”.
Just twelve days later The Tetrarch stepped back up in distance to six furlongs at Glorious Goodwood for the Rous Memorial Stakes where he easily accounted for subsequent 1,000 Guineas and Oaks winner Princess Dorrie (in receipt of 13 lbs). He went on winning, the Champion Breeders Foal Stakes at Derby by four lengths, and what transpired to be his swansong in the Champagne Stakes at Doncaster by three lengths, where The Tetrarch treated Stornoway, his only credible rival for two-year-old honours, with contempt. Stornoway had previously won the Gimcrack and Norfolk (now Flying Childers) Stakes.
His season was not meant to end there, but on the day before his intended start in the Imperial Produce Stakes at Kempton he struck into his off-fore fetlock joint, and was retired for the season. Crowned the Champion 2yo of 1913 and rated an unprecedented 10 lbs clear his nearest rival – that season’s Middle Park Stakes winner – The Tetrarch is still considered the greatest juvenile runner of all time.
This view is backed by noted turf historians Tony Morris and John Randall, who rated the best juveniles of the 20th century in their book A Century of Champions, and have no doubt about which horse was top. Nearest to The Tetrarch, were Tudor Minstrel and The Tetrarch’s own son Tetratema.
THE TETRARCH
Stud Career
The Tetrarch was retired in 1915 to stand at his specially-built stallion box and covering shed at an initial fee of 300 guineas. However, due to the meditative state he would enter into when presented a mare, his owner eventually described the champion as “monastic in the extreme”. He only got 130 foals altogether, of which 80 were winners, but with such a dearth of opportunity, it is truly remarkable the number of brilliant racehorses The Tetrarch sired.
Champion Sire in 1919, with only two crops of racing age, he was third on the list in 1920 and 1923.
As might have been expected, a majority of his best progeny were outstanding two-year olds and sprinters such as:
TetratemaChampion Sire and Champion Racehorse at 2, 3 & 4 years
Winner of 13 races including 2,000 Guineas, Middle Park Stakes, King’s Stand Stakes and July Cup
Mumtaz MahalChampion 2yo
Winner of 10 races including the Nunthorpe Stakes, King George Stakes, Champagne Stakes, Queen Mary Stakes and Molecomb Stakes (both by 10 lengths)
The SatrapChampion 2yo
Winner of 4 races including Chesham Stakes, July Stakes and Richmond Stakes
Moti MahalChampion 2yo Filly
Winner of 6 races including the Coronation Stakes
Paola
Winner of the Cheveley Park Stakes and Coronation Stakes
Stefan the Great Champion Broodmare Sire in Great Britain & Ireland
Winner of 2 races including the Middle Park Plate
Caligula, the St. Leger winner of 1920
The Tetrarch was also capable of siring top class winners over longer distances:
Snow Maiden
Winner of 6 races including the Irish Oaks and 3rd Irish Derby
Caligula
Winner of 3 races including the St. Leger, Ascot Derby (now King Edward VII Stakes) and 3rd St James’s Palace Stakes
PolemarchA leading sire in Argentina with 6 Classic winnersWinner of 5 races including the St. Leger, Gimcrack Stakes and 3rd Middle Park Plate
Salmon TroutA leading sire in Brazil
Winner of 6 races including St. Leger, Princess of Wales’s Stakes, Dewhurst Stakes and 2nd Gold Cup
The Tetrarch was also the sire of :
Chief RulerTwice Champion Sire in New Zealand
TractorA leading sire in New ZealandArch-GiftSire of Irish 2,000 Guineas winner Double ArchEthnarchSire of the ancestresses of Mill Reef and Blushing Groom
Mumtaz Mahal
Legacy
Mumtaz Mahal
The Tetrarch’s greatest legacy is undoubtedly through his daughter Mumtaz Mahal, purchased as a yearling for 9,100 guineas – the second highest price ever at the time – for the Aga Khan, such was her brilliant speed, she later became known as “The Flying Filly”. A champion 2yo on the track, she was to become one of the most influential broodmares of the 20th century.
Her daughter Mumtaz Begum produced champion racehorse Nashrullah, who was a Champion sire in both Europe and the USA. His sons include Never Say Die, Nashua, Bold Ruler, Never Bend, Grey Sovereign and Red God. Her other efforts include champion 2yo filly Dodoma, who became the 4th dam of Shergar and Sun Princess, the dam of influential sire Royal Charger. Another daughter produced Abernant, champion 2yo and the greatest sprinter of modern times.
Mumtaz Mahal best son was the Mirza, winner of the July and Coventry Stakes, who was seized by the Germans during invasion of Normandy in 1940, went on to numerous stakes winners including Skylarking ancestress of important sires Rahy, Singspiel and Devil’s Bag.
Her other daughters Mah Mahal and Mah Iran, were also hugely influential. Mah Mahal’s son Mahmoud won the 1936 Derby in record time before being exported to America for stallion duties and becoming Champion Sire. His lasting legacy will be as the broodmare sire of Almahmoud – grandam of Northern Dancer. Her other descendants include French Champion Sire Arctic Tern, American Champion Sire Halo – sire of Japanese Champion Sire Sunday Silence, and Champion Australian and European Sire Danehill. Mah Iran was the second best two-year-old filly of 1941 and became the dam of Migoli, winner of the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe, Eclipse Stakes, Champion Stakes, and second in the Derby. Migoli’s full-sister, Star of Iran produced the grey filly Petite Etoile, winner of the 1,000 Guineas, Oaks, Sussex Stakes, Champion Stakes and Coronation Cup. She is the fifth dam of Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe winner Zarkava.
Other exceptional racehorses that descend directly from Mumtaz Mahal include Fillies’ Triple Crown winner Oh So Sharp, Champion Sprinter and Champion 3yo Habibti and Australian Champions Octagonal and Danewin.
THE TETRARCH
Tetratema
Legacy
Tetratema, in his paddock at Ballylinch
Born at Ballylinch in 1917, Tetratema was a winner of all his twelve starts over sprint distances but also won the 2,000 Guineas for good measure. After an incredible debut in the National Breeders’ Produce Stakes, he took in the Molecomb Stakes, Champagne Stakes, Imperial Produce Plate and Middle Park Stakes on the way to being crowned Champion 2yo.
He began his 3yo career as the first grey to win the 2,000 Guineas since 1838, but failed to stay in both the Derby and Eclipse Stakes. Dropping back to sprint distances he won the (now discontinued) Fern Hill Stakes at Royal Ascot and the King George Stakes at Glorious Goodwood, where he accounted for 1,000 Guineas winner and exceptional sprinter Diadem.
As a four year old he won the King’s Stand Stakes at Royal Ascot, before taking the July Cup at Newmarket and repeating his win in the King George Stakes. Tetratema made his swansong in the five furlong Snailwell Stakes at Newmarket before retiring to Ballylinch in 1922 at the same initial fee as his sire, 300 guineas.
THE TETRARCH
Mr. Jinks
In 1929, he emulated his sire by becoming Champion Sire – the same year his daughter Tiffin became Champion 2yo and his son Mr. Jinks was the highest rated colt. In all, Tetratema was a top 7 sire on 11 occasions.
TiffinChampion 2yo
Winner of the Cheveley Park Stakes and July Cup
Mr JinksChampion 2yo Colt
Winner of the July Stakes, 2,000 Guineas and St. James’s Palace Stakes
MyrobellaChampion 2yo
Winner of the Champagne Stakes, King George Stakes and July Cup
ForayChampion 2yo
Winner of the July Stakes, Champagne Stakes and King’s Stand Stakes
Fourth Hand
Winner of the Windsor Castle Stakes and Irish 2,000 Guineas
Royal Minstrel
Winner of the St. James’s Palace Stakes, Cork and Orrey (now Diamond Jubilee) Stakes and Eclipse Stakes
Four Course
Winner of the July Stakes, Richmond Stakes, Gimcrack Stakes and 1,000 Guineas
TheftFive time Champion Sire in Japan
Winner of the Windsor Castle Stakes and Jersey Stakes
40cm x 34cm
July 19, 1972, Muhammad Ali fought Al 'Blue' Lewis at Croke Park in Dublin, causing quite a stir in Ireland.Decades later, an Irish documentary recounting the epic fight not only won awards but also won the approval of Ali's daughter Jamilah Ali.
"When Ali Came to Ireland" is an Irish documentary that details Muhammad Ali's trip to Dublin for a fight against Al 'Blue' Lewis at Croke Park. In 2013 the film was screened at the Chicago film festival, where Jamilah Ali was in attendance.
TheJournal.ie reported that following the screening, Jamilah said "I've seen so much footage of my father over the years but the amazing thing about watching this film was that I had seen none of the footage of him in Ireland... I loved the film from the beginning to the end."
The film highlights a moment in Ali's career where he was set to stage a world comeback. He had been recently released from prison after refusing to join the Vietnam War as a conscientious objector.
His opponent Al Lewis had also just been released on parole after serving time in Detroit for a murder charge, and he intended to use his boxing career as "a path to a new life."
The movie that won an IFTA in 2013 documents the spectacle in Croke Park, Ali's presence in Ireland and how the public reacted to his being there. It also demonstrates how Ali came to be in Dublin for a fight in the first place, highlighting the involvement of "former Kerry strongman"Michael "Butty" Sugrue.
Sugrue's story also proved to be revelatory to his family- in a quote from Ross Whittaker, co-director of the film, he speaks about how Sugrue's grandchildren had never had the chance to meet him.
"We were amazed when we screened the film in London to find that Butty Sugrue's granddaughters had never heard their grandfather speak. He had died before they were born and they'd never seen footage of him in which he had spoken."
After their 1972 meeting, however, Sugrue and Ali's fortunes took two divergent paths. Ali returned to the ring in America to further glories and fanfare before his retirement, while Sugrue lost a small fortune on the Dublin fight and after dying in London was laid to rest in an unmarked grave in his hometown of Killorglin, Co Kerry.
The Louisville Lip was also incredibly proud of his County Clare roots. Today we recall the man's star quality and his Irish ancestry.
The death of boxing legend Muhammad Ali at 74 in June 2016, from Parkinson’s, would have brought back many glorious memories of the greatest athlete of our times.
At the height of his career, Ali was the most graceful, talented, and brilliant heavyweight boxer who ever stepped inside the ropes.
Though incapacitated by Parkinson's in later life, he always managed to retain the star power and unique presence that always distinguishes the greatest.
I remember seeing him enter the room at the American Ireland Fund dinner in 2011 and grown men, including the Irish leader Enda Kenny, were simply awestruck that they were in the presence of the greatest living legend.
Ali was more than a boxer, of course, he was a fighter who refused to become cannon fodder in the Vietnam War, the greatest mistaken war America entered until the invasion of Iraq. He was also a poet, a showman, a lover of many women, a devout Muslim, and simply a legend.
Ali's stance to end the Vietnam War when he refused to be drafted cost us the best years of his sporting life. He came back still a brilliant boxer, but the man who could float like a butterfly could never quite recover that greatness.
Still, the fights with Joe Frazier, the rope-a-dope that saw him defeat George Foreman in Zaire in the "Rumble in the Jungle" will forever enshrine his name in history.
Muhammad Ali's Irish roots explained
The astonishing fact that he had Irish roots, being descended from Abe Grady, an Irishman from Ennis, County Clare, only became known later in life.
He returned to Ireland where he had fought and defeated Al “Blue” Lewis in Croke Park in 1972 almost seven years ago in 2009 to help raise money for his non–profit Muhammad Ali Center, a cultural and educational center in Louisville, Kentucky, and other hospices.
He was also there to become the first Freeman of the town.
The boxing great is no stranger to Irish shores and previously made a famous trip to Ireland in 1972 when he sat down with Cathal O’Shannon of RTE for a fascinating television interview.
What’s more, genealogist Antoinette O'Brien discovered that one of Ali’s great-grandfathers emigrated to the United States from County Clare, meaning that the three-time heavyweight world champion joins the likes of President Obama and Professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. as prominent African-Americans with Irish heritage.
In the 1860s, Abe Grady left Ennis in County Clare to start a new life in America. He would make his home in Kentucky and marry a free African-American woman.
The couple started a family, and one of their daughters was Odessa Lee Grady. Odessa met and married Cassius Clay, Sr. and on January 17, 1942, Cassius junior was born.
Cassius Clay changed his name to Muhammad Ali when he became a Muslim in 1964.
Ali, an Olympic gold medalist at the 1960 games in Rome, has been suffering from Parkinson's for some years but was committed to raising funds for his center
During his visit to Clare, he was mobbed by tens of thousands of locals who turned out to meet him and show him the area where his great-grandfather came from.
Tracing Muhammad Ali's roots back to County Clare
Historian Dick Eastman had traced Ali’s roots back to Abe Grady the Clare emigrant to Kentucky and the freed slave he married.
Eastman wrote: “An 1855 land survey of Ennis, a town in County Clare, Ireland, contains a reference to John Grady, who was renting a house in Turnpike Road in the center of the town. His rent payment was fifteen shillings a month. A few years later, his son Abe Grady immigrated to the United States. He settled in Kentucky."
Also, around the year 1855, a man and a woman who were both freed slaves, originally from Liberia, purchased land in or around Duck Lick Creek, Logan, Kentucky. The two married, raised a family and farmed the land. These free blacks went by the name, Morehead, the name of white slave owners of the area.
Odessa Grady Clay, Cassius Clay's mother, was the great-granddaughter of the freed slave Tom Morehead and of John Grady of Ennis, whose son Abe had emigrated from Ireland to the United States. She named her son Cassius in honor of a famous Kentucky abolitionist of that time.
When he changed his name to Muhammad Ali in 1964, the famous boxer remarked, "Why should I keep my white slavemaster name visible and my black ancestors invisible, unknown, unhonored?"
Ali was not only the greatest sporting figure, but he was also the best-known person in the world at his height, revered from Africa to Asia and all over the world.
To the end, he was a battler, shown rare courage fighting Parkinson’s Disease, and surviving far longer than most sufferers from the disease.
He was the third leader of Fianna Fáil from 1966 until 1979, succeeding the hugely influential Seán Lemass. Lynch was the last Fianna Fáil leader to secure (in 1977) an overall majority in the Dáil for his party. Historian and journalist T. Ryle Dwyer has called him "the most popular Irish politician since Daniel O'Connell."
Before his political career Lynch had a successful sporting career as a dual player of Gaelic games. He played hurlingwith his local club Glen Rovers and with the Cork senior inter-county team from 1936 until 1950. Lynch also played Gaelic football with his local club St Nicholas' and with the Cork senior inter-county team from 1936 until 1946.
In a senior inter-county hurling career that lasted for fourteen years he won five All-Ireland titles, seven Munster titles, three National Hurling League titles and seven Railway Cup titles. In a senior inter-county football career that lasted for ten years Lynch won one All-Ireland title, two Munster titles and one Railway Cup title. Lynch was later named at midfield on the Hurling Team of the Century and the Hurling Team of the Millennium
40cm x 34cm
Hurling (Irish: iománaíocht, iomáint) is an outdoor team game of ancient Gaelic Irish origin, played by men. One of Ireland's native Gaelic games, it shares a number of features with Gaelic football, such as the field and goals, the number of players, and much terminology. There is a similar game for women called camogie (camógaíocht). It shares a common Gaelic root.
The objective of the game is for players to use an ash wood stick called a hurley (in Irish a camán, pronounced /ˈkæmən/or /kəˈmɔːn/) to hit a small ball called a sliotar/ˈʃlɪtər/ between the opponents' goalposts either over the crossbar for one point, or under the crossbar into a net guarded by a goalkeeper for three points. The sliotar can be caught in the hand and carried for not more than four steps, struck in the air, or struck on the ground with the hurley. It can be kicked, or slapped with an open hand (the hand pass) for short-range passing. A player who wants to carry the ball for more than four steps has to bounce or balance the sliotar on the end of the stick, and the ball can only be handled twice while in the player’s possession.
Provided that a player has at least one foot on the ground, a player may make a shoulder-to-shoulder charge on an opponent who is in possession of the ball or is playing the ball or when both players are moving in the direction of the ball to play it.
No protective padding is worn by players. A plastic protective helmet with a faceguard is mandatory for all age groups, including senior level, as of 2010. The game has been described as "a bastion of humility", with player names absent from jerseys and a player's number decided by his position on the field.
Hurling is administered by the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA). It is played throughout the world, and is popular among members of the Irish diaspora in North America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Argentina, and South Korea. In many parts of Ireland, however, hurling is a fixture of life.It has featured regularly in art forms such as film, music and literature. The final of the All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship was listed in second place by CNN in its "10 sporting events you have to see live", after the Olympic Games and ahead of both the FIFA World Cup and UEFA European Championship.After covering the 1959 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final between Kilkenny and Waterford for BBC Television, English commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme was moved to describe hurling as his second favourite sport in the world after his first love, football.Alex Ferguson used footage of an All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship final in an attempt to motivate his players during his time as manager of Premier League football club Manchester United; the players winced at the standard of physicality and intensity in which the hurlers were engaged. In 2007, Forbes magazine described the media attention and population multiplication of Thurles town ahead of one of the game's annual provincial hurling finals as being "the rough equivalent of 30 million Americans watching a regional lacrosse game".Financial Times columnist Simon Kuper wrote after Stephen Bennett's performance in the 2020 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final that hurling was "the best sport ever and if the Irish had colonised the world, nobody would ever have heard of football"UNESCO lists hurling as an element of Intangible cultural heritage.
It was Richie Connor in the early 1990s who first introduced me to the concept. For the Offaly team he captained, ultimately to the 1982 All-Ireland, beating Dublin in the 1980 Leinster final had he said been their most significant achievement.
This was because winning the province represented a longer journey from where the team under Eugene McGee had started than the distance from there to the Sam Maguire.
Maybe the reasoning was slightly different in Clare but it amounted to the same thing. In the few weeks that shimmered in the radiant summer of 1995 between winning Munster and the All-Ireland semi-final against Galway, manager Ger Loughnane was certainly of that view.
“In Clare, Munster is the Mount Everest. All along Munster was what was talked about. I remember stopping Nenagh on the way back from the League final and a man saying, ‘if only we could win Munster once, it would make up for everything’.
“The reaction to our winning Munster has been far greater than what would happen in other counties if they won an All-Ireland.”
Clare had got to the stage where they were being upstaged by their footballers whose first Munster title since 1917 had been sensationally won in 1992 leaving the hurlers by-passed.
Anthony Daly, prominent in 1995 as the exuberant captain of the hurlers, remembered the big-ball community’s notions. He went to support the footballers in their All-Ireland semi-final against Dublin three years previously. In a bar beforehand he was mocked for band-wagoning.
“Do you go to our matches at all,” asks Daly.
“I do, I do,” comes the response.
“And when you do, does anyone ever tell you to f*** off back to west Clare?”
Boom, boom.
Climbed Everest
Twenty-five years ago today (Thursday) the county hurlers climbed Everest and in unexpected style. Clare had qualified for a third successive Munster final but the previous two, against Limerick and Tipperary had ended in heavy defeats.
This season would be different. Loughnane’s elevation from selector to manager crystallised the potential that his predecessor Len Gaynor had harnessed to reach Munster finals in 1993 and ‘94. They had taken the lessons of losing to a Zen level.
I remember seeing Loughnane and his selectors Mike McNamara and Tony Considine sitting in the Queens Hotel in Ennis after a league match with a fairly full-strength Tipperary.
Clare’s James O’Connor is challenged by Limerick’s Gary Kirby during the 1995 Munster final. Photograph: Tom Honan/Inpho
They were super-pleased with the win, one of a number of markers laid down in a season that ended with defeat in the final against Kilkenny after which the manager famously declared that they would win Munster. The approach had been clear: find some new players, get incredibly fit and start beating likely rivals.
The winter had been a time of slog under McNamara’s fundamentalist training but the late spring with its brightening nights would be a time for sharpening the hurling and adding speed to their playbook.
“In a way the League final was the best thing that happened us,” said Loughnane after the provincial success. “All the old failings were there. We were too tense: all frenzy, no method. We were going to have to use our heads. If we’d won the League we definitely wouldn’t have won the Munster championship.”
Limerick were in a valley season between two demoralising All-Ireland final defeats but were raging favourites, having beaten Tipperary while Clare had laboured to get past Cork.
Clare also had their past, 11 Munster final defeats since the previous win in 1932 and well beaten by Limerick the previous year. The League final defeat a mere two months previously didn’t help the argument that the team had the ability to win big matches.
As a match it doesn’t look great these days. There are too many errors and too much imprecision in the play. Limerick look lethargic and off-key. They play the first half with the advantage of a strong wind but trail at half-time.
In a low-scoring, scrappy affair Clare aren’t doing themselves justice either but for a team,who had been trimmed in their previous finals they’re hanging in there for most of the first half. In other words the match isn’t getting away from them, either - which is an improvement on the recent past.
Davy Fitzgerald
Goalkeeper Davy Fitzgerald’s expertly hit penalty edges Clare in front and tactically they have taken a grip. Fitzgerald is also excellent in goal producing a couple of saves that prevent Limerick from getting too involved.
Ollie Baker, of whom a lot had been expected when he was drafted into the team for the league, has a non-stop match, physically overshadowing the powerful Limerick pairing of Mike Houlihan and Seán O’Neill and beside him James O’Connor overcomes a difficult start and is on to everything, fast and fluent.
His six points include four from play and his only failure of marksmanship is a shot that hits the post late in the match. PJ O’Connell also gets four from play but is selected as MOTM for the job done on disorientating Ciarán Carey with his constant movement.
Clare captain Anthony Daly with the trophy after his side’s 1995 Munster final win over Limerick. Tom Honan/Inpho
“I knew I had to keep Ciarán Carey away from the puck-outs,” he says afterwards, “so I kept him running around. I had done a lot of work for this and I knew I would not get winded or caught for pace. I just kept running him and I could see it was having an effect.”
Seán McMahon broke his collarbone in the semi-final against Cork and returns for the final a week earlier than ideal but thrives as Gary Kirby, who had destroyed him a year previously, falters.
Clare’s grip tightens. Limerick manage just four points in the second half, as the winners pull away steadily.
Stunning win
It’s a stunning win - a tribute to Loughnane, who in the years before the acid erosion of controversies and fallings-out is a charismatic leader, whose prescriptions were single-mindedly adopted by the players and embraced by the Clare public.
“The feeling was that at long last a barrier had been broken,” he said before the All-Ireland semi-final. “The atmosphere in the county was incredible. It was great for the footballers a couple of years ago but they hadn’t been waiting and failing the way the hurlers had for years and years and years. It was very emotional, more because it was so unexpected after Limerick trouncing Clare last year. A good few didn’t even go to Thurles because they were afraid.”
Clare captain Anthony Daly at the county’s homecoming in 1995. Photograph: Inpho
For those few weeks, they are on the cusp of history, something almost spiritual. In the week before the Galway semi-final, Loughnane recounted how he had happened upon a car accident.
He hurries to check on the elderly motorist, who is shaken but not injured. They are joined by a third man.
“This other fella is looking at me and says, ‘Ger, isn’t it?’ I said, ‘yes’ and he says to the poor old man: ‘It’s Ger Loughnane! Isn’t that enough to make you better?’”
A nurse arrives with the ambulance and pauses to comment.
40cm x 34cm
July 19, 1972, Muhammad Ali fought Al 'Blue' Lewis at Croke Park in Dublin, causing quite a stir in Ireland.Decades later, an Irish documentary recounting the epic fight not only won awards but also won the approval of Ali's daughter Jamilah Ali.
"When Ali Came to Ireland" is an Irish documentary that details Muhammad Ali's trip to Dublin for a fight against Al 'Blue' Lewis at Croke Park. In 2013 the film was screened at the Chicago film festival, where Jamilah Ali was in attendance.
TheJournal.ie reported that following the screening, Jamilah said "I've seen so much footage of my father over the years but the amazing thing about watching this film was that I had seen none of the footage of him in Ireland... I loved the film from the beginning to the end."
The film highlights a moment in Ali's career where he was set to stage a world comeback. He had been recently released from prison after refusing to join the Vietnam War as a conscientious objector.
His opponent Al Lewis had also just been released on parole after serving time in Detroit for a murder charge, and he intended to use his boxing career as "a path to a new life."
The movie that won an IFTA in 2013 documents the spectacle in Croke Park, Ali's presence in Ireland and how the public reacted to his being there. It also demonstrates how Ali came to be in Dublin for a fight in the first place, highlighting the involvement of "former Kerry strongman"Michael "Butty" Sugrue.
Sugrue's story also proved to be revelatory to his family- in a quote from Ross Whittaker, co-director of the film, he speaks about how Sugrue's grandchildren had never had the chance to meet him.
"We were amazed when we screened the film in London to find that Butty Sugrue's granddaughters had never heard their grandfather speak. He had died before they were born and they'd never seen footage of him in which he had spoken."
After their 1972 meeting, however, Sugrue and Ali's fortunes took two divergent paths. Ali returned to the ring in America to further glories and fanfare before his retirement, while Sugrue lost a small fortune on the Dublin fight and after dying in London was laid to rest in an unmarked grave in his hometown of Killorglin, Co Kerry.
The Louisville Lip was also incredibly proud of his County Clare roots. Today we recall the man's star quality and his Irish ancestry.
The death of boxing legend Muhammad Ali at 74 in June 2016, from Parkinson’s, would have brought back many glorious memories of the greatest athlete of our times.
At the height of his career, Ali was the most graceful, talented, and brilliant heavyweight boxer who ever stepped inside the ropes.
Though incapacitated by Parkinson's in later life, he always managed to retain the star power and unique presence that always distinguishes the greatest.
I remember seeing him enter the room at the American Ireland Fund dinner in 2011 and grown men, including the Irish leader Enda Kenny, were simply awestruck that they were in the presence of the greatest living legend.
Ali was more than a boxer, of course, he was a fighter who refused to become cannon fodder in the Vietnam War, the greatest mistaken war America entered until the invasion of Iraq. He was also a poet, a showman, a lover of many women, a devout Muslim, and simply a legend.
Ali's stance to end the Vietnam War when he refused to be drafted cost us the best years of his sporting life. He came back still a brilliant boxer, but the man who could float like a butterfly could never quite recover that greatness.
Still, the fights with Joe Frazier, the rope-a-dope that saw him defeat George Foreman in Zaire in the "Rumble in the Jungle" will forever enshrine his name in history.
Muhammad Ali's Irish roots explained
The astonishing fact that he had Irish roots, being descended from Abe Grady, an Irishman from Ennis, County Clare, only became known later in life.
He returned to Ireland where he had fought and defeated Al “Blue” Lewis in Croke Park in 1972 almost seven years ago in 2009 to help raise money for his non–profit Muhammad Ali Center, a cultural and educational center in Louisville, Kentucky, and other hospices.
He was also there to become the first Freeman of the town.
The boxing great is no stranger to Irish shores and previously made a famous trip to Ireland in 1972 when he sat down with Cathal O’Shannon of RTE for a fascinating television interview.
What’s more, genealogist Antoinette O'Brien discovered that one of Ali’s great-grandfathers emigrated to the United States from County Clare, meaning that the three-time heavyweight world champion joins the likes of President Obama and Professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. as prominent African-Americans with Irish heritage.
In the 1860s, Abe Grady left Ennis in County Clare to start a new life in America. He would make his home in Kentucky and marry a free African-American woman.
The couple started a family, and one of their daughters was Odessa Lee Grady. Odessa met and married Cassius Clay, Sr. and on January 17, 1942, Cassius junior was born.
Cassius Clay changed his name to Muhammad Ali when he became a Muslim in 1964.
Ali, an Olympic gold medalist at the 1960 games in Rome, has been suffering from Parkinson's for some years but was committed to raising funds for his center
During his visit to Clare, he was mobbed by tens of thousands of locals who turned out to meet him and show him the area where his great-grandfather came from.
Tracing Muhammad Ali's roots back to County Clare
Historian Dick Eastman had traced Ali’s roots back to Abe Grady the Clare emigrant to Kentucky and the freed slave he married.
Eastman wrote: “An 1855 land survey of Ennis, a town in County Clare, Ireland, contains a reference to John Grady, who was renting a house in Turnpike Road in the center of the town. His rent payment was fifteen shillings a month. A few years later, his son Abe Grady immigrated to the United States. He settled in Kentucky."
Also, around the year 1855, a man and a woman who were both freed slaves, originally from Liberia, purchased land in or around Duck Lick Creek, Logan, Kentucky. The two married, raised a family and farmed the land. These free blacks went by the name, Morehead, the name of white slave owners of the area.
Odessa Grady Clay, Cassius Clay's mother, was the great-granddaughter of the freed slave Tom Morehead and of John Grady of Ennis, whose son Abe had emigrated from Ireland to the United States. She named her son Cassius in honor of a famous Kentucky abolitionist of that time.
When he changed his name to Muhammad Ali in 1964, the famous boxer remarked, "Why should I keep my white slavemaster name visible and my black ancestors invisible, unknown, unhonored?"
Ali was not only the greatest sporting figure, but he was also the best-known person in the world at his height, revered from Africa to Asia and all over the world.
To the end, he was a battler, shown rare courage fighting Parkinson’s Disease, and surviving far longer than most sufferers from the disease.
47cm x 34cm
In the relative cool of the Limerick dressing-room, cramped and pokey as it was beneath the Mackey Stand, Ger Loughnane addressed the victors.
It was, the vanquished Clare manager told them, "the kind of game we hear about from our fathers and grandfathers" - adding that in all his time in hurling he had never been involved in anything like it.
In the corner was Ciarán Carey, fresh from his wondrous individual point that had decided the game - it still remains one of hurling's greatest scores - parked on a slatted bench, pulling on a cigarette. The protein shakes were still a few years off.
Loughnane would go on to savour many more tumultuous, spine-tingling days on the sideline with Clare, some of a higher standard than that particular scorching Sunday afternoon.
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But that 1996 Munster semi-final was, as Anthony Daly put it in his autobiography many years later, "a day of days" - the most memorable game he had played in.
Two things stood out on the way to the Gaelic Grounds that day - the heat and the crowds swarming on the Ennis Road, the tar squelching beneath each and every one. As far as the eye could see down both sides were people walking through a heat haze, so many white shirts peppered between green and saffron and blue.
How, you thought, could anyone hurl in the conditions in little over an hour's time?
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Soaring The soaring mercury reflected the atmosphere between the teams and their people at that time. Clare were Munster and All-Ireland champions, Limerick their provincial predecessors as the counties found themselves displacing Cork and Tipperary as protagonists in the south throughout the middle of the decade.
At the time, they didn't particularly like each other, Loughnane even admitting that when Limerick subsequently lost the All-Ireland final that September he wasn't sorry.
Limerick manager Tom Ryan hadn't been happy about elements of Clare's approach in the previous year's Munster final, suggesting at the time that they had been "timbered".
Prior to the game Loughnane had held up a Clare jersey, claiming to his players that Limerick had somehow disrespected it in the build-up. It all created a spiky edge that was prevalent around the ground that day.
Maybe the tense atmosphere masked the quality of the play. Looking back now, it was quite turgid and error-strewn but still, it's what you feel at the time - and at that time every jarring collision and every loose ball felt like a life depended on it.
At one stage near the end, Mike Houlihan swung wildly, catching Ollie Baker and his own colleague Carey in the same movement.
It was the last year before the first hurling 'back door' was introduced and the threat of potential summer extinction was palpable.
Clare didn't play particularly well but for 43 of the 70 or so minutes they were ahead, 27 of those minutes in the second half.
They looked to have done enough to build a three-point lead as the game closed but then it loosened somewhat, allowing Limerick to steal in for three quick-fire points, from Barry Foley (two) and Gary Kirby before Carey's tour de force.
"The four most agonising seconds of my life," recalled Daly in a crestfallen Clare dressing-room afterwards. "The last man you would want to see coming up the field with a ball like that."
Carey, then playing at midfield, had caught Davy Fitzgerald's puck-out after Foley's point and saw the space in front of him open up.
Time seemed to stand still as he pressed on the accelerator. Clare legs looked like they were wading through treacle.
"I was in a position then to say 'yeah, OK, we might have a crack here'," Carey would recall years later.
"There was someone on my tail (Fergal Hegarty) all the time. I didn't know who it was. I just dropped the shoulder to the left, jinked to the right, and put it over on the bad side.
"The connection didn't have to be great, because I was only 25 yards out.
"And if I couldn't put the ball over the bar, off left or right, from that distance with an inter-county jersey on me there is something wrong. I was surprised it opened up, as it did, after such a tight game."
|Brian Lohan cut an imperious figure throughout and when the All-Stars were being totted up later that year his performance that day, his only one of the championship, rightly earned him a second successive award.
Strength
On the Carey point, Lohan always felt he should have gone to meet him though.
"With the heat, if you had said if a fella gets a ball on his own 45 and takes off, if he gets to 25 metres out, he'll be doing awful well to have the strength to hit the ball over the bar, given what had gone in the previous 73 minutes," says Lohan. It was an iconic score, you have to say."
Good enough to crown any game, really.
This is the final part of our series where we asked our writers to detail the one sporting occasion that stands out from all the rest and why it still means so much to them
58cm x 42cm
Quaint vintage poster of a jaunting car carrying a group around Phoenix Park- the giant Wellington monument can be seen in the background.
The Wellington Monument or sometimes the Wellington Testimonial,is an obelisk located in the Phoenix Park, Dublin, Ireland.
The testimonial is situated at the southeast end of the Park, overlooking Kilmainham and the River Liffey. The structure is 62 metres (203 ft) tall, making it the largest obelisk in Europe
History
The Wellington Testimonial was built to commemorate the victories of Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington. Wellington, the British politician and general, also known as the 'Iron Duke', was born in Ireland. Originally planned to be located in Merrion Square, it was built in the Phoenix Park after opposition from the square's residents.
The obelisk was designed by the architect Sir Robert Smirke and the foundation stone was laid in 1817. In 1820, the project ran out of construction funds and the structure remained unfinished until 18 June 1861 when it was opened to the public. There were also plans for a statue of Wellington on horseback, but a shortage of funds ruled that out.
Features
There are four bronze plaques cast from cannons captured at Waterloo – three of which have pictorial representations of his career while the fourth has an inscription. The plaques depict 'Civil and Religious Liberty' by John Hogan, 'Waterloo' by Thomas Farrell and the 'Indian Wars' by Joseph Robinson Kirk. The inscription reads:
Asia and Europe, saved by thee, proclaim
Invincible in war thy deathless name,
Now round thy brow the civic oak we twine
That every earthly glory may be thine.
Cultural references
The monument is referenced throughout James Joyce's Finnegans Wake. The first page of the novel alludes to a giant whose head is at "Howth Castle and Environs" and whose toes are at "a knock out in the park (p. 3)"; John Bishop extends the analogy, interpreting this centrally located obelisk as the prone giant's male member. A few pages later, the monument is the site of the fictional "Willingdone Museyroom" (p. 8).
The GAA Allstars Poster from 1997,a year when Kerry reclaimed Sam Maguire and Clare added another All Ireland to that epic 1995 triumph.
Ennis Co Clare 58cm x 60cm
Atmospheric photo from 1946 of two of the greatest hurlers in the history of the GAA in its original vintage frame -a veteran Mick Mackey of Limerick and a fresh faced Christy Ring of Cork.The only shame was they never met on the playing field while at the peak of their powers,Mackey being older and in decline when Ring was lording it on the pitch.Although they had their controversial moments together ,there was a massive mutual respect between the two men.this photo was taken after a challenge match between their respective clubs,Mackey's Ahane of Limerick and Ring's Glen Rovers of Cork - it proved to be the last time the two legends met on the field of play.
Origins : Co Limerick
Dimensions : 31cm x 25cm 1kg
Great picture of a fit looking Arkle being paraded in front of an adoring crowd at a soccer grounds in 1966. His longtime partner Pat Taafe is looking slightly apprehensive while a rather keen"Himself" seems to be inn a hurry to get home.In front of them a Guinness advertising person carries a 'large' bottle of the black stuff for the ubiquitous photo opportunity.
Arkle (19 April 1957 – 31 May 1970) was an IrishThoroughbred racehorse. A baygelding by Archive out of Bright Cherry, he was the grandson of the unbeaten (in 14 races) flat racehorse and prepotent sire Nearco. Arkle was born at Ballymacoll Stud, County Meath, by Mrs Mary Alison Baker of Malahow House, near Naul, County Dublin. He was named after the mountain Arkle in Sutherland, Scotland that bordered the Duchess of Westminster’s Sutherland estate. Owned by Anne Grosvenor, Duchess of Westminster, he was trained by Tom Dreaper at Greenogue, Kilsallaghan in County Meath, Ireland, and ridden during his steeplechasing career by Pat Taaffe.
At 212, his Timeform rating is the highest ever awarded to a steeplechaser. Only Flyingbolt, also trained by Dreaper, had a rating anywhere near his at 210. Next on their ratings are Sprinter Sacre on 192 and then Kauto Star and Mill House on 191. Despite his career being cut short by injury, Arkle won three Cheltenham Gold Cups, the Blue Riband of steeplechasing, and a host of other top prizes.
On 19th April, 2014 a magnificent 1.1 scale bronze statue was unveiled in Ashbourne, County Meath in commemoration of Arkle.In the 1964 Cheltenham Gold Cup, Arkle beat Mill House (who had won the race the previous year) by five lengths to claim his first Gold Cup at odds of 7/4. It was the last time he did not start as the favourite for a race. Only two other horses entered the Gold Cup that year.
The racing authorities in Ireland took the unprecedented step in the Irish Grand National of devising two weight systems — one to be used when Arkle was running and one when he was not. Arkle won the 1964 race by only one length, but he carried two and half stones more than his rivals.
The following year's Gold Cup saw Arkle beat Mill House by twenty lengths at odds of 3/10. In the 1966 renewal, he was the shortest-priced favourite in history to win the Gold Cup, starting at odds of 1/10. He won the race by thirty lengths despite a mistake early in the race where he ploughed through a fence. However, it did not stop his momentum, nor did he ever look like falling. Arkle had a strange quirk in that he crossed his forelegs when jumping a fence. He went through the season 1965/66 unbeaten in five races.
Arkle won 27 of his 35 starts and won at distances from 1m 6f up to 3m 5f. Legendary Racing commentator Peter O'Sullevan has called Arkle a freak of nature — something unlikely to be seen again.
Besides winning three consecutive Cheltenham Gold Cups (1964, 1965, 1966) and the 1965 King George VI Chase, Arkle triumphed in a number of other important handicap chases, including the 1964 Irish Grand National (under 12-0), the 1964 and 1965 Hennessy Gold Cups (both times under 12-7), the 1965 Gallagher Gold Cup (conceding 16 lb to Mill House while breaking the course record by 17 seconds), and the 1965 Whitbread Gold Cup(under 12-7). In the 1966 Hennessy, he failed by only half a length to give Stalbridge Colonist 35 lb. The scale of the task Arkle faced is shown by the winner coming second and third in the two following Cheltenham Gold Cups, while in third place was the future 1969 Gold Cup winner, What A Myth.
In December 1966, Arkle raced in the King George VI Chase at Kempton Park but struck the guard rail with a hoof when jumping the open ditch, which resulted in a fractured pedal bone; despite this injury, he completed the race and finished second. He was in plaster for four months and, though he made a good enough recovery to go back into training, he never ran again. He was retired and ridden as a hack by his owner and then succumbed to what has been variously described as advanced arthritis or possibly brucellosis and was put down at the early age of 13.
Arkle became a national legend in Ireland. His strength was jokingly claimed to come from drinking 2 pints of Guinness a day. At one point, the slogan Arkle for President was written on a wall in Dublin. The horse was often referred to simply as "Himself", and he supposedly received items of fan mail addressed to 'Himself, Ireland'.
The Irish government-owned Irish National Stud, at Tully, Kildare, Co. Kildare, Ireland, has the skeleton of Arkle on display in its museum. A statue in his memory was erected in Ashbourne Co Meath in 2004.
Dimensions : 55cm x 60cm
Superb Smithwicks sponsored team photograph of the 1981 All Ireland Hurling Champions -Offaly.The authenticity of this print and its worn appearance makes for an excellent addition to any GAA wall collection.
32cm x 47cm. Birr Co Offaly
The 1981 All Ireland Hurling Final was the 94th All-Ireland Final and the culmination of the 1981 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship, an inter-county hurling tournament for the top teams in Ireland. The match was held at Croke Park, Dublin, on 6 September 1981, between Galway and Offaly. The reigning champions lost to their Leinster opponents, who won their first ever senior hurling title, on a score line of 2-12 to 0-15.
Johnny Flaherty scored a handpassed goal in this game; this was before the handpassed goal was ruled out of the game as hurling's technical standards improved.
Superb print of the 1908 Clare Hurling Team who won the Croke Cup.
Origins : Ennistymon Co Clare Dimensions: 33cm x 40cm. Glazed
Dr Croke Cup Medal, 1908
The Dr Croke Cup was a second inter-county competition instituted in both hurling and football in 1896. Clare was the first winner of the Dr Croke Cup for Hurling in 1896.
This medal was won by Ned Grace, one of seven O’Callaghan’s Mills players on the Croke Cup winning Hurling team of 1908.
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978.This is a great photo taken during the legendary celebrations which took place after that epic victory .Taken around a piano in the famous Ted's Bar & Nightclub in O'Connell St Limerick,it features Greg Barrett on the keyboard while Brendan Foley(father of the late, much lamented Anthony ),Colm Tucker & Tony Ward join in the sing song.
30cm x 39cm Limerick City
There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978.
There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish.
Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
SEA OF EMOTION: Munster’s players and supporters celebrate a famous victory.
However, when coach Des Barry resigned for personal reasons, Munster turned once again to Kiernan. Being the great Munster man that he was and remains, Tom was happy to oblige although as an extremely shrewd observer of the game, one also suspected that he spotted something special in this group of players that had escaped most peoples’ attention. He refused to be dismayed by what he saw in the games in London, instead regarding them as crucial in the build-up to the All Blacks encounter. He was, in fact, ahead of his time, as he laid his hands on video footage of the All Blacks games, something unheard of back in those days, nor was he averse to the idea of making changes in key positions. A major case in point was the introduction of London Irish loose-head prop Les White of whom little was known in Munster rugby circles but who convinced the coaching team he was the ideal man to fill a troublesome position.
Kiernan was also being confronted by many other difficult issues. The team he envisaged taking the field against the tourists was composed of six players (Larry Moloney, Seamus Dennison, Gerry McLoughlin, Pat Whelan, Brendan Foley and Colm Tucker) based in Limerick, four (Greg Barrett, Jimmy Bowen, Moss Finn and Christy Cantillon) in Cork, four more (Donal Canniffe, Tony Ward, Moss Keane and Donal Spring) in Dublin and Les White who, according to Keane, “hailed from somewhere in England, at that time nobody knew where”.
Always bearing in mind that the game then was totally amateur and these guys worked for a living, for most people it would have been impossible to bring them all together on a regular basis for six weeks before the match. But the level of respect for Kiernan was so immense that the group would have walked on the proverbial bed of nails for him if he so requested. So they turned up every Wednesday in Fermoy — a kind of halfway house for the guys travelling from three different locations and over appreciable distances.
Those sessions helped to forge a wonderful team spirit. After all, guys who had been slogging away at work only a short few hours previously would hardly make that kind of sacrifice unless they meant business.
October 31, 1978 dawned wet and windy, prompting hope among the faithful that the conditions would suit Munster who could indulge in their traditional approach sometimes described rather vulgarly as “boot, bite and bollock” and, who knows, with the fanatical Thomond Park crowd cheering them on, anything could happen. Ironically, though, the wind and rain had given way to a clear, blue sky and altogether perfect conditions in good time for the kick-off.
Surely, now, that was Munster’s last hope gone — but that didn’t deter more than 12,000 fans from making their way to Thomond Park and somehow finding a spot to view the action. The vantage points included hundreds seated on the 20-foot high boundary wall, others perched on the towering trees immediately outside the ground and some even watched from the windows of houses at the Ballynanty end that have since been demolished.
The atmosphere was absolutely electric as the teams took the field, the All Blacks performed the Haka and the Welsh referee Corris Thomas got things under way.
The first few skirmishes saw the teams sizing each other up before an incident that was to be recorded in song and story occurred, described here — with just the slightest touch of hyperbole! — by Terry McLean in his book ‘Mourie’s All Blacks’.
“In only the fifth minute, Seamus Dennison, him the fellow that bore the number 13 jersey in the centre, was knocked down in a tackle. He came from the Garryowen club which might explain his subsequent actions — to join that club, so it has been said, one must walk barefooted over broken glass, charge naked through searing fires, run the severest gauntlets and, as a final test of manhood, prepare with unfaltering gaze to make a catch of the highest ball ever kicked while aware that at least eight thundering members of your own team are about to knock you down, trample all over you and into the bargain hiss nasty words at you because you forgot to cry out ‘Mark’.
Moss Keane recalled the incident: “It was the hardest tackle I have ever seen and lifted the whole team. That was the moment we knew we could win the game.” Kiernan also acknowledged the importance of “The Tackle”.
He said: “Tackling is as integral a part of rugby as is a majestic centre three-quarter break. There were two noteworthy tackles during the match by Seamus Dennison. He was injured in the first and I thought he might have to come off. But he repeated the tackle some minutes later.”
Many years on, Stuart Wilson vividly recalled the Dennison tackles and spoke about them in remarkable detail and with commendable honesty: “The move involved me coming in from the blind side wing and it had been working very well on tour. It was a workable move and it was paying off so we just kept rolling it out. Against Munster, the gap opened up brilliantly as it was supposed to except that there was this little guy called Seamus Dennison sitting there in front of me.
“He just basically smacked the living daylights out of me. I dusted myself off and thought, I don’t want to have to do that again. Ten minutes later, we called the same move again thinking we’d change it slightly but, no, it didn’t work and I got hammered again.”
The game was 11 minutes old when the most famous try in the history of Munster rugby was scored.
Tom Kiernan recalled: “It came from a great piece of anticipation by Bowen who in the first place had to run around his man to get to Ward’s kick ahead. He then beat two men and when finally tackled, managed to keep his balance and deliver the ball to Cantillon who went on to score. All of this was evidence of sharpness on Bowen’s part.”
Very soon it would be 9-0. In the first five minutes, a towering garryowen by skipper Canniffe had exposed the vulnerability of the New Zealand rearguard under the high ball. They were to be examined once or twice more but it was from a long range but badly struck penalty attempt by Ward that full-back Brian McKechnie knocked on some 15 yards from his line and close to where Cantillon had touched down a few minutes earlier. You could sense White, Whelan, McLoughlin and co in the front five of the Munster scrum smacking their lips as they settled for the scrum. A quick, straight put-in by Canniffe, a well controlled heel, a smart pass by the scrum-half to Ward and the inevitability of a drop goal. And that’s exactly what happened.
The All Blacks enjoyed the majority of forward possession but the harder they tried, the more they fell into the trap set by the wily Kiernan and so brilliantly carried out by every member of the Munster team.
The tourists might have edged the line-out contest through Andy Haden and Frank Oliver but scrum-half Mark Donaldson endured a miserable afternoon as the Munster forwards poured through and buried him in the Thomond Park turf.
As the minutes passed and the All Blacks became more and more unsure as to what to try next, the Thomond Park hordes chanted “Munster-Munster–Munster” to an ever increasing crescendo until with 12 minutes to go, the noise levels reached deafening proportions.
And then ... a deep, probing kick by Ward put Wilson under further pressure. Eventually, he stumbled over the ball as it crossed the line and nervously conceded a five-metre scrum. The Munster heel was disrupted but the ruck was won, Tucker gained possession and slipped a lovely little pass to Ward whose gifted feet and speed of thought enabled him in a twinkle to drop a goal although surrounded by a swarm of black jerseys. So the game entered its final 10 minutes with the All Blacks needing three scores to win and, of course, that was never going to happen.
Munster knew this, so, too, did the All Blacks. Stu Wilson admitted as much as he explained his part in Wardy’s second drop goal: “Tony Ward banged it down, it bounced a little bit, jigged here, jigged there, and I stumbled, fell over, and all of a sudden the heat was on me. They were good chasers. A kick is a kick — but if you have lots of good chasers on it, they make bad kicks look good. I looked up and realised — I’m not going to run out of here so I just dotted it down. I wasn’t going to run that ball back out at them because five of those mad guys were coming down the track at me and I’m thinking, I’m being hit by these guys all day and I’m looking after my body, thank you. Of course it was a five-yard scrum and Ward banged over another drop goal. That was it, there was the game”.
The final whistle duly sounded with Munster 12 points ahead but the heroes of the hour still had to get off the field and reach the safety of the dressing room. Bodies were embraced, faces were kissed, backs were pummelled, you name it, the gauntlet had to be walked. Even the All Blacks seemed impressed with the sense of joy being released all about them. Andy Haden recalled “the sea of red supporters all over the pitch after the game, you could hardly get off for the wave of celebration that was going on. The whole of Thomond Park glowed in the warmth that someone had put one over on the Blacks.”
Controversially, the All Blacks coach, Jack Gleeson (usually a man capable of accepting the good with the bad and who passed away of cancer within 12 months of the tour), in an unguarded (although possibly misunderstood) moment on the following day, let slip his innermost thoughts on the game.
“We were up against a team of kamikaze tacklers,” he lamented. “We set out on this tour to play 15-man rugby but if teams were to adopt the Munster approach and do all they could to stop the All Blacks from playing an attacking game, then the tour and the game would suffer.”
It was interpreted by the majority of observers as a rare piece of sour grapes from a group who had accepted the defeat in good spirit and it certainly did nothing to diminish Munster respect for the All Blacks and their proud rugby tradition.
And Tom Kiernan and Andy Haden, rugby standard bearers of which their respective countries were justifiably proud, saw things in a similar light.
“Jack’s comment was made in the context of the game and meant as a compliment,” Haden maintained. “Indeed, it was probably a little suggestion to his own side that perhaps we should imitate their efforts and emulate them in that department.”
Tom Kiernan went along with this line of thought: “I thought he was actually paying a compliment to the Munster spirit. Kamikaze pilots were very brave men. That’s what I took out of that. I didn’t think it was a criticism of Munster.”
And Stuart Wilson? “It was meant purely as a compliment. We had been travelling through the UK and winning all our games. We were playing a nice, open style. But we had never met a team that could get up in our faces and tackle us off the field. Every time you got the ball, you didn’t get one player tackling you, you got four. Kamikaze means people are willing to die for the cause and that was the way with every Munster man that day. Their strengths were that they were playing for Munster, that they had a home Thomond Park crowd and they took strength from the fact they were playing one of the best teams in the world.”
You could rely on Terry McLean (famed New Zealand journalist) to be fair and sporting in his reaction to the Thomond Park defeat. Unlike Kiernan and Haden, he scorned Jack Gleeson’s “kamikaze” comment, stating that “it was a stern, severe criticism which wanted in fairness on two grounds. It did not sufficiently praise the spirit of Munster or the presence within the one team of 15 men who each emerged from the match much larger than life-size. Secondly, it was disingenuous or, more accurately, naive.”
“Gleeson thought it sinful that Ward had not once passed the ball. It was worse, he said, that Munster had made aggressive defence the only arm of their attack. Now, what on earth, it could be asked, was Kiernan to do with his team? He held a fine hand with top trumps in Spring, Cantillon, Foley and Whelan in the forwards and Canniffe, Ward, Dennison, Bowen and Moloney in the backs. Tommy Kiernan wasn’t born yesterday. He played to the strength of his team and upon the suspected weaknesses of the All Blacks.”
You could hardly be fairer than that – even if Graham Mourie himself in his 1983 autobiography wasn’t far behind when observing: “Munster were just too good. From the first time Stu Wilson was crashed to the ground as he entered the back line to the last time Mark Donaldson was thrown backwards as he ducked around the side of a maul. They were too good.”
One of the nicest tributes of all came from a famous New Zealand photographer, Peter Bush. He covered numerous All Black tours, was close friends with most of their players and a canny one when it came to finding the ideal position from which to snap his pictures. He was the guy perched precariously on the pillars at the entrance to the pitch as the celebrations went on and which he described 20 years later in his book ‘Who Said It’s Only a Game?’
“I climbed up on a gate at the end of the game to get this photo and in the middle of it all is Moss Keane, one of the great characters of Irish rugby, with an expression of absolute elation. The All Blacks lost 12-0 to a side that played with as much passion as I have ever seen on a rugby field. The great New Zealand prop Gary Knight said to me later: ‘We could have played them for a fortnight and we still wouldn’t have won’. I was doing a little radio piece after the game and got hold of Moss Keane and said ‘Moss, I wonder if ...’ and he said, ‘ho, ho, we beat you bastards’.
“With that, he flung his arms around me and dragged me with him into the shower. I finally managed to disentangle myself and killed the tape. I didn’t mind really because it had been a wonderful day.”
Dimensions :47cm x 57cm
Framed 1964 Listowel Races Advert 28cm x 23cm Ballylongford Co Kerry
The great John B Keane once said: "The Listowel Races is a state of mind." Anyone who has attended the festival will know this statement to be an undeniable truth. Because for one divine week in September, a spotlight from the gods shines on Listowel.
It is a shimmering star, guiding people from all over the country for a week of devilment and roguery - a place where hatred dissolves and inhibitions release.
And for as long as I can remember, I too have been steered by that very light. For a time, I thought I could never love a man the way I loved the Listowel Races.
Unlike romantic relationships, I knew where I stood in the affair. There were no miscommunications or missteps. I asked for the thrill, the passion and the romance, and all the races asked of me was the entrance fee.
Famous son: The late playwright John B Keane in his Listowel pub
Even as a child, I worshipped it. From the moment the festival lights were hung above Church Street, I knew magic was in the air. Any pocket money I had was spent at the Birds Amusements in the mart yard and any tears I had shed, as my mother told me, came when it was time to go home. As I grew older, I discovered another type of magic on the racecourse or 'the island' as it's otherwise known.It is a paradise on the River Feale filled with old friends, new acquaintances and disgruntled punters. Expats return from far-flung countries and wish for the week to never end, wanting one last race, drink or dance because one September evening spent on the island equals a lifetime of memories.This year will mark the 162nd anniversary of the meeting. The first took place in October 1858 and, since then, has moved from a two-day race meeting to a seven-day spectacle filled with music and wren boys. Also known as the Harvest Festival, the meeting traditionally marked the end of the harvest, and farmers came to relax and enjoy the fruits of their labour. While this remains true, Listowel now attracts a variety of attendees from across the country and beyond.The people don't just come for racing anymore. They come for the atmosphere, the people, and the promise of the time of your life. Festivals like Galway and Punchestown may have the hype, but Listowel has the mightiest heart.In 162 years, the island and its high jinks have survived war and politics, but it won't escape the ravages of 2020. Covid-19 restrictions mean the Listowel Races will take place behind closed doors for the first time. Under protocol from the HRI and the Irish Horseracing Regulatory Board, race meetings are closed to the public.Much-needed boost
'Huge loss': Jerry Behan from the Horseshoe Bar
For Listowel, the impact will be huge. The town is small, with a population of 4,800 people. In 2018, attendance at the festival hit 90,000 for the week.
North Kerry doesn't reap the benefits of tourism as much as the southern half of the county. Killarney and Dingle are hotspots and while north Kerry has its share, tourism is not its main trade. Festivals such as the races provide much-needed boosts to the local economy.It has been a challenging year for the small-town festival in Ireland. From the Willie Clancy week in Miltown Malbay to the Innishannon Steam Rally in Cork, localities have lost out economically and culturally. Earlier in the summer, the famous Writers' Week Festival in Listowel was cancelled, as was the Revival Music Festival in August.The September races complete the trifecta of festivities and are the jewel in the crown. These cancellations only added to the blow caused by the lockdown closures in March for the businesses in the town.Jerry Behan and his son Diarmuid, owner and bar manager of the Horseshoe Bar and Restaurant on William Street, say the trade during the races tides the pubs and restaurants over until year-end."This year is just a complete unknown," Jerry says. "We missed out on Mother's Day, Paddy's Day, Easter, Writers' Week, Revival and now the races. Writers' Week is nearly as big as the races for us, so it's been a huge loss. And what you make during the races would pay the bills until Christmas."In a typical year, the week before the festival would be spent planning and preparing for the influx of punters; Diarmuid admits this is a part he will miss."During this time, we would be looking forward to race week," he explains. "You would be getting in your orders and sorting out staff for the week. It all adds to the build-up. Usually, you would hate to be working during a big event, but I never mind working for the races."The craic is brilliant. But at the end of the day, our health is the most important thing."The Government has given the green light for 'wet pubs' to reopen on Monday after a six-month closure. Reopening on the week of the races is both a blessing and a hindrance to Billy Keane, the Irish Independent columnist and owner of John B Keane's bar, first run by his playwright father."The worst was not knowing when we would open, so when the news came that it would be the 21st, on what happens to be the week of the Listowel Races, it was brilliant news," Keane says."So everyone in town got a great boost from it and hopefully the locals will come out and I can't wait to meet them again, but it's going to be very restricted. During the races, if I had a pub that went all the way to Ballybunion, I'd still need more space."The week equates to around 22pc of my business for the year, but obviously, our numbers will be way down."The change in proceedings isn't just hitting the pubs and restaurants; many other businesses feel the effects. Owner of Coco at The Arcade boutique, Jennifer Scanlan, says fashion is just as big a part of the experience as the racing itself, with Ladies' Day usually attracting a crowd of more than 26,000."For me, the week before and especially the Saturday before the races are usually manic busy with women buying their bits. So I will certainly be losing that revenue."If you don't come from a town or area that holds a festival like this, you might question why locals are so attached. It has such significance that anyone from the town will tell you that a different calendar dictates life. There are no weeks or months, only 'before' and 'after' the races. People in Listowel have grown up with it. It is steeped in tradition and for rural towns, this is important.'It defines us'Scanlan admits it is hard to think that this year will go ahead without the full flow of the festival. "I grew up over the shop here in the centre of town and I could see the Birds Amusements right from my window. The races could never hide from us."It defines us as Listowel people. There really is something special here."Someone who shares this sentiment is horse racing commentator Jerry Hannon, a native Listowel man who discovered his love for the sport on the Island. "That's where I got my love for racing," he explains. "One of my earliest memories was my late dad Joe bringing me over to the island and meeting Charlie Swan, who was top jockey at the time, and the late racing photographer Liam Healy taking a photo of me with him. I saw the crowds and the atmosphere and that whet my appetite. It's like a ritual for those of us from the town."Hannon will commentate on the racing over the seven days, but admits that it is at the festivals when you notice the missing crowds. "It's been disheartening," he explains. "It hit me in places like Killarney and Galway. Now Listowel will be the same when you won't see those crowds crossing the bridge from the town side."Christy Walsh, owner of Christy's Bar in The Square, says the races' influence is far-reaching. "When I became involved in the Harvest Festival, I not only realised what it means for the town, but the whole of north Kerry and beyond. Accommodation is usually booked from Templeglantine, Newcastle West, Abbeyfeale and down into Tralee. Ballybunion and Ballyheigue, both of which are packed from it."Walsh says the town is exercising extreme caution for the week ahead, with people expected to watch the racing in local pubs. "We are still in the throes of a major pandemic," he says. "So just for one year, maybe leave it to the locals and enjoy the races on TG4 at home and wait until we are back in action fully."Because the town is small, community spirit is present even when thousands of people gather there. This quality is why people return year on year and proprietors of the town have come to know the spectators as friends. They look forward to seeing them return in the future."You know on the Monday exactly who you'd meet inside the pub," Walsh says. "They come back year after year and you'd be asking how in the name of God could they do seven days racing. But they do, and most of my enjoyment comes from meeting them. I'll really miss that."This warmth is something Jerry Behan says will forever make the Listowel Races special. "They are like locals," he says. "They walk in as if they've lived here forever. We have a crowd from Newcastle that comes over every year since we opened and on the Sunday when they leave, the hugging and kissing is something else. They always say we can't wait for next year already. Hopefully, we will have it again when everything settles. The town will get through this and it will be back."And so tomorrow for its 162nd year, the island gates will open, the horses will gallop and bets will be made, but the stands will stay silent for the first time. Yet over the bridge on the other side of the River Feale, a town and its people look ahead to better times, remaining forever hopeful for a winner and waiting once more to be back in a Listowel Races state of mind.
HOLDING OF THE THIN GREEN LINE – UNIVERSITY COLLEGE DUBLIN BOAT CLUB & THE 1948 OLYMPIC GAMES
BY MORGAN MCELLIGOTT
Irish Olympic Crew 1948
“Telegram for you, Professor.” The year was 1948 in Mooney’s of the Strand. Jim read “Flight delayed, cannot make Mooney’s, see you at Henley- on – Thames signed Holly.” Apparently the barman was transferred from the Dublin premises near Independent House to London and recognised his erstwhile customer, Jim Meenan. “Holly” was a sobriquet for J.J.E. Holloway, representative of the Leinster branch of the Irish Amateur Rowing Union (I.A.R.U.) and to the Federation Internationale des Societes d’Aviron (F.I.S.A.). The former was secretary and later President of the union. Both were officers of Old Collegians Boat Club (O.C.B.C.) and members of the emergency committee to deal with the Irish Olympic eight-oar crew entry and were hugely involved with the development of U.C.D. rowing. The Club founded in 1918, assumed significance in the thirties and peaked in 1939 by winning the intervarsity Wylie Cup and the Irish Senior and Junior Rowing Championships, coached by Holly and captained by Dermot Pierce, brother of Denis Sugrue.
1947-1948
After some lean years, the College aimed at revivification under the author’s captaincy, by intensive training twice daily in 1947, repeating the above wins and making a significant inaugural appearance at the Royal Henley Regatta by beating Reading University and Kings College London in the initial rounds in the Thames Cup before elimination in the semi-final by the eventual winners, Kent School U.S.A. It was easy to predict the outcome of the 1948 season which, captained by Paddy Dooley, repeated the above Irish competitive season, finishing by victory in the final of the Irish Senior Eights Championship over Belfast Commercial Boat Club, at present Belfast Rowing Club, on the river Lagan.
CREW SELECTED
The I.A.R.U. had ruled previously that the winning eight would be nominated as an All- Ireland entry to the Olympic Games and the relevant sub-committee met immediately after the race on the 10th July 1948 and U.C.D. were invited to form the Olympic Crew. Dominant advice was given and accepted fully from Ray Hickey, who rowed in the successful Senior Championship eight in 1940 and coached both 1947 and 1948 crews. Initial practice was on the 12th and the crew was finally selected on the 16th July as follows:-
Bow
T.G. Dowdall
UCD
2
E.M.A McElligott
UCD
3
J. Hanly
UCD
4
D.D.B. Taylor
Queen’s
5
B. McDonnell
UCD
6
P.D.R. Harold
Neptune
7
R.W.R Tamplin
Trinity
Stroke
P.O. Dooley
UCD
Cox
D.L. Sugrue
UCD
Coaches
R.G. Hickey
UCD
M. Horan
Trinity
Manager
D.S.F. O’Leary
UCD
Substitutes
H.R. Chantler
Trinity
W. Stevens
Neptune
EIRE/IRELAND-26/32
So far it seemed simple, but now it was the Eire/Ireland question; briefly, “Eire” meant pick your athletes from twenty-six counties, whereas “Ireland”‘ meant thirty-two counties. Dan Taylor, Captain of the Q.U.B.C. was included and the I.A.R.U. was not yet a member of the F.I.S.A.
Some seventeen days of training followed on both Liffey and Thames. Long mileage was the hallmark of the college crews in the previous two seasons and included an indelibly remembered row from Islandbridge to Poolbeg Lighthouse on a calm day, it was subsequently learned that the U.S.A. and Norway, gold and bronze medal winners, crewed for two years and nine months respectively.
BORDERLINE CONSEQUENCES
But more important matters were imminent in Henley-on-Thames Town Hall, such as, “Can we row Danny from Queens, Belfast? ” John Pius Boland, of Boland’s Bread and a law graduate of Balliol College Oxford, was a commissioner under the Irish Universities Act and named the new establishment the National University of Ireland. Earlier, in 1896, after winning two gold medals for tennis in the first Olympic Games of the modern era, he caused some upset when he demanded an Irish flag. Subsequent to the establishment of the twenty-six country Irish Free State, the question of Olympic entry from a thirty-two county Ireland was debated and re-affirmed at four international Olympic committee meetings ranging from Paris in 1924 to Berlin in 1930. In 1932, Bob Tisdall, 400 meters hurdle and Pat O’Callaghan, hammer, won gold medals; the thirty-two county status was thought to be ensured in spite of persistent objections by British, representatives, which were constantly over-ruled until 1934. In context, Sean Lavan of U.C.D. achieved first and second places in various heats of 200 and 400 meters in 1924 and 1928.
ORATIO RECTA
1948 dialectic included: –
BOADICEA: Conqueror of Italians: “Eire is on your stamps and on your Department of External Affairs note paper.”
MACHA: war Goddess of Ulster: “Yes, and you have Helvetia on your stamps and Switzerland on your note paper.”
BOADICEA: “Eirelevant! And note the spelling, if you’ve graduated from Ogham. Your swimmers are already barred because of the inclusion of Northern Ireland competitors.”
MACHA: “A jarvey’s arrogance, why, you have four competitors, born in southern Ireland including Chris Barton from Kildare, who stroked the British eight, winning a silver medal. Being rather proud of our athletic exports, we never raised the issue.”
BOADICEA: “Verdant remarks from a verdant person, and how about Danny Boy from Queen’s University Boat Club.”
MACHA: “Well, he is entitled to British and Irish passports and that reminds me of your performance of an Irish melody, the Londonderry Air which concerns my fief.
BOADICEA: “Your Kevin Myers states you cannot be “Ireland” without a referendum.”
MACHA: “Anachronisms are unacceptable and on your next raid on Londinium ask the king’s equerry why he introduced my friends as “Ireland” at the Buckingham Palace tea-party”.
FAULTY TOWERS
The twin towers of Wembley stadium came into view, we were going on parade with increased confidence in our entry, while the swimmers returned to Eire/Ireland. As we took our place, it appeared that the parade sign-board was Eire rather than Ireland. A rather polemic discussion ensued between the assistant Chief Marshal and Comdt. J.F. Chisholm, the Irish Chef de Mission; the latter pointed out that our entry was submitted and accepted as “Ireland” as the English language was mandatory in context e.g. Espana marched as Spain. The Marshal’s convincing riposte was that he always wrote “Eire” when writing to his Irish brother-in-law and that P. agus T. delivered accurately; this was followed by an awesome threat to trap us in the tunnel.
Irish Olympic Crew 1948 in Action in Henley
CORK’S CREWMANSHIP
The ebullient Donal S.F. O Leary, who rowed in the successful 1947 Wylie Cup senior eight, with Alphie Walshe, and, at present, our team manager assessed instantly the situation and when we were directed to march in line after Iraq, declared forcibly that there were thousands of Irish, or was it Eirish, people in the stands ready to cheer their team and wouldn’t it be an huge disappointment if we failed to march, on a matter of neology.
ON STREAM
In a temperature 90 F, with 58 nations, we marched as “Eire,” saluted King GeorgeVl, were cheered loudly by our own and by countries like India which recently gained independence, as we worried about losing a day’s practice on the water. The words of the visionary Pierre Baron de Coubertin, who revived the Olympic Games in 1896 after a lapse of some 1600 years, dominated the stadium:
THE IMPORTANT THING IN THE OLYMPIC GAMES IS NOT WINNINGBUT TAKING PART. THE ESSENTIAL THING IN LIFE IS NOT CONQUERINGBUT FIGHTING WELL
The Olympic torch, carried through a peaceful Europe, arrived and the Olympic flame was lit by Cambridge athlete, John Mark. Donald Finlay, former Olympic hurdler swore the oath. The King proclaimed the games open, Sir Malcolm Sergent, of the Albert Hall promenade concerts, conducted the orchestra with guards massed bands and choir in a stirring performance of the Londonderry Air; thousands of pigeons were released to carry messages of peace to countries of the world.
UP STREAM
But upstream to Henley, the thirty-two county body I.A.R.U., represented by its President M.V. Rowan of Neptune R.C. and J.J.E. Holloway O.C.B.C., was elected unanimously to F.I.S.A. and was therefore the first athletic unit recognised as an all Ireland body at the XIV Olympiad. A laudable photo-finish as competition started on the morrow and it’s worth mentioning that, in contrast to current debatable practice, Irish rowing officials disclaimed all expenses.
LADIES LAST AND FIRST
A liberal proposal by eastern European countries “on the organisation of feminine championships received scant attention”. An Antipodean delegate stated that in his opinion: “Rowing, as a sport had sufficient complications without adding the feminine element thereto”.
In a recent season Antipodean values, not delegates, prevailed in U.C.D. Ladies Boat Club captained by Oonagh Clarke; wins of their Senior Eight included Ghent International Regatta and Henley Regatta, beating Temple University U.S.A. in the final – a glorious season for the “feminine element”.
THIN GREEN LINE
During all this induction, practice continued on the water. Most of the crew thought pragmatically that as long as we rowed all else was irrelevant. Heart or head, to be conservative at twenty is to have no heart, to be socialist at forty is to have no head. Initially some of our training was alongside the British crew, whom we could beat transiently off the starting stake-boat; the objection of other crews ended this liaison. Our exercise times over parts of the course proved favourably and superior to some of our competitors but on the day we were beaten in our heat by Canada and Portugal and the repechage by Norway.
To quote Michael Johnston in his totally comprehensive book on Senior Championship rowing, entitled “The Big Pot”:- “They lost their races but held the Thin Green Line and brought Ireland into the world of real international rowing for the first time. “
MEMORIA
Joe Hanly and Barry McDonnell were both heavy weights on the 1947 and 1948 championship crews, and subsequently Presidents of O.C.B.C. Joe was also Vice-Captain of U.C.D.B.C. in 1947. Barry died in 1976 and Joe in 1996.
The sympathy of all U.C.D. Oarsmen was extended to their wives, Helen who was Inaugural President of U.C.D.B.C. Ladies, and Jane, respectively. In 1997 Joe was honoured posthumously in the presence of Jane and Dr. Art Cosgrove, President U.C.D., by naming a new fine VIII boat, “Joe Hanly” in the presence of Barry Doyle, President U.C.D.B.C.
RESURRECTI SUMUS
In 1998 the 1948 Olympic crew were honoured in the presence of some 170 crews competing in the Irish National Rowing Championships. Inscribed trophies and pennants were presented by Tom Fennessy, President of the I.A.R.U. and Michael Johnston, in his citation, stressed how the crew ensured thirty-two county representation by holding the Thin Green Line.
Similarly, twenty-five contestants, out of a total ninety-one who competed in 1948, attended a reception hosted by the Irish Olympic Council. Trophies were presented and citations declared by Patrick Hickey. President of the Council. Speeches included that of Dave Guiney, National Irish Shop-Putting Champion, who spoke for the recipients, and Dr. Kevin O’Flanagan who received a special presentation for his medical services to the Games. During his student days at U.C.D. in the 1940’s, O’Flanagan developed a career which included winning National Championships for Sprinting, playing International Soccer and Rugby for Ireland.
26cm x 33cm
Not so much the clash of the ash as the bend of the ash in this unbelievable action photograph as Clare and Limerick Hurlers do battle in a challenge game in Sixmilebridge.The art of Hurley making & the raw materials used have not changed a lot since time immemorial as this article demonstrates ;
Cad a dhéanfaimid feasta gan adhmaid, tá deireadh na gcoillte ar lár…” seems an appropriate opening to an article about hurley making, as we speak to Pat Cronin in his workshop overlooking the Comeragh Mountains in Kilcash, Tipperary. “Over 90% of the timber used in hurley-making now is foreign. Irish ash is very scarce, although Coillte are working to change this”, explained Pat. “I get most of my timber from Coillte in Dundrum (Tipperary). This comes from Denmark and Sweden”. Although some makers have produced hurleys from 14 year old ash Pat believes this is too soon. “You might only get two or three slabs out of a tree that young. If you left it another five or more years you’d get more than double that. It’d really take up to 25 years to get a decent return.”
Pat’s uncle, Larry Welsh, made hurleys, but Pat didn’t realise this when he started out. “John Joe O’Brien in Cahir taught me. I used to call to him to get a few now and then and it went from there. I started about 25 years ago and gave up working with Eircom to go at it full time five years ago. I’m kept busy throughout the year.”
Brian Dowling’s “Star Hurleys” workshop is in the heart of Kilkenny. Despite the fact that his son Mark is also in the business they’re under constant pressure to meet demand. Brian, who served his time to become a carpenter, has been making hurleys since 1980. His father Ramie was a well known maker, who started in the early 1960’s with Brian’s grandfather Tom Neary.
It probably takes about thirty minutes to make a hurley, if you were to go at it from start to finish. However, neither Pat nor Brian make them in this way. Both use copying machines to rough cut “slabs” three or four at a time. Each then finishes the hurleys by hand, to meet specific requirements. “You get phases of popularity in styles”, explained Pat Cronin, “Because of the O’Connor’s of Cork for instance, big bosses are in favour now. But there’s also a trend towards shorter and lighter sticks. There’s a risk if the hurley is too light it’ll snap more easily. And you don’t get the same distance on a puck out.”
Brian, recently in Italy looking at a replacement for his aging copying machine, only cuts 33 inch sticks and bigger this way. “I do the smaller ones entirely by hand”. The style of hurling has changed over the years and naturally the hurley changes to reflect this. “Demands for particular styles naturally reflect the styles of the successful teams of the time”. Certainly the demand for personalised sticks has grown. Brian, who supplies most of the Kilkenny senior team, explains that most of them have specific demands.
Every hurley maker will advise you differently about how best to look after your stick! wever, you need good quality timber to start with. Pat Cronin suggests that when you get your new hurley you should put it away for a while. “Some people hang them, rather than prop them against a wall, so they won’t warp. There are those who put them in water until they get the right weight. Then they’ll varnish or linseed oil them to keep them at that weight. Like a good wine it should also be stored somewhere cool! You definitely shouldn’t keep them in the kitchen or in the boot of your car, or they will dry out.”
Brian suggests that it’s better to buy the stick unbanded. “You need to allow a bit of time for timber to settle. You might also put five or six coats of linseed oil on, or even drop them into a barrel of linseed oil for a while, to get more penetration. You have to remember that this will add weight ‘though. But whether you oil them or not, you should leave them for a good week or so before banding them. And don’t keep them in the house!”
There is a Hurley Makers Guild, which was formed almost ten years ago when ash became scarce. Makers felt the need to organise themselves to address the problem. There are about fifty active members these days.
Both Pat Cronin and Brian Dowling are curious to see how Jack Carey – brother of the illustrious DJ – gets on with his plan to import finished hurleys from Eastern Europe. This could have quite an impact on what might be regarded as a quintessentially Irish cottage industry. However, time will tell. Just to set up a workshop and kit it out here in Ireland would probably cost about half a million Euro, according to both Pat and Brian. Not a cheap business to get into! Little wonder the notion of foreign manufactured hurleys doesn’t seem that strange…
Two great Craftsmen, continuing the wonderful tradition of hurley-making.
38cm x 33cm
This time a colour version of the iconic photograph taken by Justin Nelson.The following explanation of the actual verbal exchange between the two legends comes from Michael Moynihan of the Examiner newspaper.
"When Christy Ring left the field of play injured in the 1957 Munster championship game between Cork and Waterford at Limerick, he strolled behind the goal, where he passed Mick Mackey, who was acting as umpire for the game. The two exchanged a few words as Ring made his way to the dressing-room.It was an encounter that would have been long forgotten if not for the photograph snapped at precisely the moment the two men met.
The picture freezes the moment forever: Mackey, though long retired, still vigorous, still dark haired, somehow incongruous in his umpire’s white coat, clearly hopping a ball; Ring at his fighting weight, his right wrist strapped, caught in the typical pose of a man fielding a remark coming over his shoulder and returning it with interest.
Two hurling eras intersect in the two men’s encounter: Limerick’s glory of the 30s, and Ring’s dominance of two subsequent decades.But nobody recorded what was said, and the mystery has echoed down the decades.But Dan Barrett has the answer.He forged a friendship with Ring from the usual raw materials. They had girls the same age, they both worked for oil companies, they didn’t live that far away from each other. And they had hurling in common.
We often chatted away at home about hurling,” says Barrett. “In general he wouldn’t criticise players, although he did say about one player for Cork, ‘if you put a whistle on the ball he might hear it’.”
Barrett saw Ring’s awareness of his whereabouts at first hand; even in the heat of a game he was conscious of every factor in his surroundings.
“We went up to see him one time in Thurles,” says Barrett. “Don’t forget, people would come from all over the country to see a game just for Ring, and the place was packed to the rafters – all along the sideline people were spilling in on the field.
“He came out to take a sideline cut at one stage and we were all roaring at him – ‘Go on Ring’, the usual – and he looked up into the crowd, the blue eyes, and he looked right at me.
“The following day in work he called in and we were having a chat, and I said ‘if you caught that sideline yesterday, you’d have driven it up to the Devil’s Bit.’
“There was another chap there who said about me, ‘With all his talk he probably wasn’t there at all’. ‘He was there alright,’ said Ring. ‘He was over in the corner of the stand’. He picked me out in the crowd.”
“He told me there was no way he’d come on the team as a sub. I remember then when Cork beat Tipperary in the Munster championship for the first time in a long time, there was a helicopter landed near the ground, the Cork crowd were saying ‘here’s Ring’ to rise the Tipp crowd.
“I saw his last goal, for the Glen against Blackrock. He collided with a Blackrock man and he took his shot, it wasn’t a hard one, but the keeper put his hurley down and it hopped over his stick.”
There were tough days against Tipperary – Ring took off his shirt one Monday to show his friends the bruising across his back from one Tipp defender who had a special knack of letting the Corkman out ahead in order to punish him with his stick. But Ring added that when a disagreement at a Railway Cup game with Leinster became physical, all of Tipperary piled in to back him up.
One evening the talk turned to the photograph. Barrett packed the audience – “I had my wife there as a witness,” – and asked Ring the burning question: what had Mackey said to him?
“’You didn’t get half enough of it’, said Mackey. ‘I’d expect nothing different from you,’ said Ring. “That was what was said.”
You might argue – with some credibility – that learning what was said by the two men removes some of the force of the photograph; that if you remained in ignorance you’d be free to project your own hypothetical dialogue on the freeze-frame meeting of the two men.
But nothing trumps actuality. The exchange carries a double authenticity: the pungency of slagging from one corner and the weariness of riposte from the other.
Dan Barrett just wanted to set the record straight.
“I’d heard people say ‘it will never be known’ and so on,” he says.“I thought it was no harm to let people know.”
No harm at all"
Origins ; Co Limerick
Dimensions : 31cm x 25cm 1kg
Born in Castleconnell, County Limerick,Mick Mackey first arrived on the inter-county scene at the age of seventeen when he first linked up with the Limerick minor team, before later lining out with the junior side. He made his senior debut in the 1930–31 National League. Mackey went on to play a key part for Limerick during a golden age for the team, and won three All-Ireland medals, five Munster medals and five National Hurling League medals. An All-Ireland runner-up on two occasions, Mackey also captained the team to two All-Ireland victories.
His brother, John Mackey, also shared in these victories while his father, "Tyler" Mackey was a one-time All-Ireland runner-up with Limerick.
Mackey represented the Munster inter-provincial team for twelve years, winning eight Railway Cup medals during that period. At club level he won fifteen championship medals with Ahane.
Throughout his inter-county career, Mackey made 42 championship appearances for Limerick. His retirement came following the conclusion of the 1947 championship.
In retirement from playing, Mackey became involved in team management and coaching. As trainer of the Limerick senior team in 1955, he guided them to Munster victory. He also served as a selector on various occasions with both Limerick and Munster. Mackey also served as a referee.
Mackey is widely regarded as one of the greatest hurlers in the history of the game. He was the inaugural recipient of the All-Time All-Star Award. He has been repeatedly voted onto teams made up of the sport's greats, including at centre-forward on the Hurling Team of the Centuryin 1984 and the Hurling Team of the Millennium in 2000.
Origins : Co Limerick
Dimensions : 28cm x 37cm 1kg
35cm x 45cm Cashel Co Tipperary
Classic photograph depicting the physicality of the game of Hurling,Irelands national obsession as the ash Hurley is broken in two after colliding with the opposing players helmet as traditional rivals Clare and Tipperary battle for supremacy at Semple Stadium Thurles.
238cm x 33cm Bruff Co Limerick
Absolutely incredible shot of a Clare hurler breaking his ash Hurley over the forearm of teak tough Limerick corner back Steve McDonagh during a National Hurling League game in 1997.
Superb Guinness advert publicising their sponsorship of the All Ireland Senior Hurling Championship-unframed print.
44cm x 60cm
Guinness were long time sponsors of the All Ireland Senior Hurling Championship.Hurling is an ancient sport ,played for over 2000 years by such mythical Irish legends such as Setanta, who is depicted here in this distinctive Guinness advert fighting off a fierce wolf, armed with just a Hurl and a sliotar!
Following on the company’s imaginative marketing and advertising campaigns — with such slogans as ‘Not Men But Giants,’ ‘Nobody Said It Was Going To Be Easy’ and ‘The Stuff of Legend’ — other imaginative adverts brought the message that hurling is part of the Irish DNA.
Other campaigns, entitled ‘It’s Alive Inside’ focused on how hurling is an integral part of Irish life and how the love of hurling is alive inside every hurling player and fan.
Boher Co Limerick 35cm x 48cm
The 1994 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final was the 107th All-Ireland Final and the culmination of the 1994 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship. The match was held at Croke Park, Dublin, on 4 September 1994, between Offaly and Limerick.
The Munster champions lost to their Leinster opponents on a score line of 3-16 to 2-13. The match is known as 'the five-minute final' due to the sensational comeback by Offaly who scored 2-5 to win the game in the last five minutes.
With five minutes of normal time remaining, Limerick were leading by 2-13 to 1-11 and looked to be heading to their first title in 21 years when Offaly were awarded a free 20 metres from the goal. Limerick goalkeeper Joe Quaid later admitted that he was to blame for the resultant goal in that he didn't organise his defence well enough to stop a low-struck free from Johnny Dooley.[3] Quaid was erroneously blamed for Offaly's second goal after what was described as a quick and errant puck-out leading to Pat O'Connor putting Offaly a point ahead with a low shot to the net. Quaid later described the puck-out: "I didn’t rush back to the goals. I went back and picked up the ball, walked behind the goals like I normally would. Hegarty was out in the middle of the field on his own. I dropped the ball into his hand 70 yards out from goal. He caught the ball and in contact the ball squirted out of his hands." Because the television coverage was still showing a replay of the first goal, very few people got to see the build up to the second and when live transmission was resumed, the sliotar was still dropping towards Pat O'Connor leading people to assume that Quaid rushed his puck-out.Limerick went on to lose the game by 3-16 to 2-13.
Seán Keating (born John Keating, Limerick, 28 September 1889 – Dublin, 21 December 1977) was an Irish romantic-realist painter who painted some iconic images of the Irish War of Independence and of the early industrialization of Ireland. He spent two weeks or so each year during the late summer on the Aran Islands and his many portraits of island people depicted them as rugged heroic figures. However, he ceased to visit the Aran Islands in 1965.
Seán Keating studied drawing at the Limerick Technical School before a scholarship arranged by William Orpen allowed him to go at the age of twenty to study at the Metropolitan School of Art in Dublin. Over the next few years, he spent time on the Aran Islands. In 1914 Keating won the RDS Taylor award with a painting titled The Reconciliation. The prize included £50 which allowed him to go to London to work as Orpen's studio assistant in 1915. In late 1915 or early 1916, he returned to Ireland where he documented the War of Independence and the subsequent Civil War. Examples include Men of the South (1921–22) which shows a group of IRA men ready to ambush a military vehicle and An Allegory (first exhibited in 1924), in which the two opposing sides in the Irish Civil War are seen to bury a tricolour-covered coffin amid the roots on an ancient tree. The painting includes a self-portrait of the artist.
Keating was elected an Associate of the Royal Hibernian Academy (RHA) in 1918, and a full member in 1923. One of the cardinal achievements of the Irish Free State in the 1920s was the building, in partnership with Siemens, of a hydro-electric power generator at Ardnacrusha, near Limerick. Between 1926 and 1927 Keating, at his own initiative, produced a considerable number of paintings related to this scheme. He exhibited several examples of the paintings in the RHA exhibitions in 1927 and 1928. Most are now in the collection of ESB Group. His work was also part of the art competitions at the 1924 Summer Olympics and the 1928 Summer Olympics.
In 1936 a group of prominent Limerick politicians, artists and patrons established the first Limerick City Collection of Art, made up of various donations and bequests. Keating was part of this artist-led initiative to form a municipal art gallery in Limerick similar to those already in Dublin and Cork. As a pivotal member of the committee, Keating himself donated many works to the collection which was first exhibited in the Savoy Cinema, Limerick City, on 23 November 1937. It was not until 1948, however, that an extension to the rear of Limerick Free Library and Museum became the permanent home to the City Collection, acquiring the name of the Limerick Free Art Gallery. In 1985 the Library and Museum were transferred to larger buildings.
In 1939 Keating was commissioned to paint a mural for the Irish pavilion at the New York World's Fair. He was President of the Royal Hibernian Academy from 1950 to 1962, and showed at the annual exhibition for 61 years from 1914 onwards. Keating was an intellectual painter in the sense that he consciously set out to explore the visual identity of the Irish nation, and his paintings show a very idealised realism. He feared that the modern movement would lead to a decline in artistic standards. Throughout his career, he exhibited nearly 300 works at the RHA, and also showed at the Oireachtas.
Keating married political campaigner, May Walsh, in 1919. She was a frequent model for his paintings until her death in 1965. He died on 21 December 1977 at the Adelaide Hospital and was buried at Cruagh Cemetery, Rathfarnham. The 1978 RHA Exhibition featured a small memorial collection of his work.
Posthumous exhibitions of his paintings were held by The Grafton Gallery, Dublin (1986) and the Electricity Supply Board (1987). Sean Keating – The Pilgrim Soul, a documentary presented and written by his son, the politician Justin Keating, aired on RTÉ in 1996.
38cm x 40cm
Imagination is something Guinness Advertising has never been short of… From John Gilroy’s hapless zookeeper and his menagerie of creatures to a Polynesian surfer and a herd of white horses; from messages in bottles setting sail across the ocean to a single, heart-stoppingly enormous wave. Guinness have been carving out their own creative path for almost a century with decades of extraordinary and enduring print, TV and digital campaigns to their name, and hopefully they will continue to push boundaries to tell stories to the world. Here’s to original thinking !
Atmospheric photograph of the Lansdowne Rugby Club's 3rd XV taken with the enormous old West Stand of Lansdowne Road in the background.It is estimated that half of this team were killed during the carnage of World War I just a few short years later-with surnames such as Gilligan,Beatty,O'Beirne,Nevin,Flavelle and Sadleir to be included on the sad Roll of Honour.
39cm x 45cm Ballsbridge Dublin
Beautifully atmospheric lithograph of the pre match parade by the Cork and Dublin Hurlers in 1952.This lithograph was sponsored by the National Flour Mills Co.Ltd.
42cm x 46cm Douglas Cork
The 1952 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final was the 65th All-Ireland Final and the culmination of the 1952 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship, an inter-county hurling tournament for the top teams in Ireland. The match was held at Croke Park, Dublin, on 7 September 1952, between Cork and Dublin. The Leinster champions lost to their Munster opponents on a score line of 2-14 to 0-7.
Brilliant print capturing some of Micheal "Ó'Muircheartaigh's most famous moments of commentary over the decades.Superb piece for the GAA enthusiast and celebrating one of our greatest ever broadcasters.
Origins : Banagher Co Offaly Dimensions: 52cm x 40cm
Micheal Ó Muircheartaigh (born 20 August 1930)[1] is an Irish Gaelic gamescommentator for the Irish national radio and television, RTÉ. In a career that has spanned six decades he has come to be regarded as the "voice of Gaelic games." His prolific career has earned him a place in Guinness World Records.
Early life
Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh was born in Dún Síon just outside Dingle, County Kerry in 1930.Ó Muircheartaigh grew up on the family farm and was educated locally in Dingle. In September 1945 he began studying at Coláiste Íosagáin in Baile Bhúirne in the County CorkGaeltacht where he was in training to be a teacher. It was at this all-Irish school that his name changed from Michael Moriarty to the Irish version Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh. In September 1948 he began the final year of his teacher training at St Patrick's College of Education in Drumcondra, Dublin.
Broadcasting career
In early March 1949 Ó Muircheartaigh, along with ten other students from the college, and several from other colleges, did a test commentary on a hurling game at Croke Park. Each student had to commentate for five minutes in Irish and the most successful would be selected for further commentary work. Ó Muircheartaigh had never seen a game of hurling before in his life. But he knew that those adjudicators judging his commentary were not able to see the game:
'Twas a new game to me. But I knew one person. He was in goal for UCD and his name was Tadhg Hurley. He went to school in Dingle and he had hurling because his father was a bank manager and had spent time in Tipperary or Cork. The moment my minute started, he was saving a fantastic shot. And he cleared it away out, I can still see it, out over the sideline, Cusack Stand side of the field, eighty yards out. But it was deflected out by a member of the opposition. The adjudicators couldn't see that that didn't happen. Who was called out to take the line-ball? The only person I knew, Tadhg Hurley. And he took a beautiful line-ball - Christy Ring never took better. He landed it down in front of the Railway goal, there was a dreadful foul on the full-forward, and there was a penalty. And who was called up to take the penalty? Tadhg Hurley. 'Twas the best individual display ever seen in Croke Park. It took him at least a minute to come from the Canal goal up. And while he was coming up I spoke about his brother Bob, who was in Donal's class, and his sister who used to come out to Dún Síon strand during the summer. So eventually he took the penalty. I've seen DJ Carey, I've seen Nicky Rackard, I've seen Christy Ring. None of them could ever equal the display he gave that day... Sin mar a thosaigh sé!
Ó Muircheartaigh was the one selected and his first assignment was to provide an all-Irish commentary on the 1949 Railway Cup final on St. Patrick's Day.
He graduated from St. Patrick's College a little later and also completed a Bachelor of Arts degree from University College Dublin. He taught economics, accountancy and Irish in both primary and secondary schools throughout Dublin, the majority of which were run by the Christian Brothers. He continued teaching up until the 1980s, when he became a full-time broadcaster with Raidió Teilifís Éireann.
For the early part of his broadcasting career Ó Muircheartaigh commentated on MinorGAA matches, in the Irish language. He also replaced the legendary Micheál O'Hehir when he was not available to commentate. Eventually when O'Hehir was forced to retire in the mid-1980s Ó Muircheartaigh took over as the station's premier radio commentator. He developed his own inimitable style of commentary and his accent is unmistakably that of a native Irish speaker. He is a true lover of Gaelic Athletic Association and it is reflected in the enthusiasm he brings to matches. His unusual turn of phrase has made him a much loved broadcaster and often imitated character. He has become particularly famous in Ireland for his unusual turns of phrase in the heat of the moment while commentating. Today he commentates on RTÉ Radio 1. In 2004 he published his autobiography, 'From Dún Sion to Croke Park'.
Ó Muircheartaigh's commentaries for RTÉ Radio 1's Sunday Sport show won him a Jacob's Award in 1992. He was also the Parade Grand Marshal for the 2007 St. Patrick's Festival, having been given the honour by the chairman of the Festival in recognition and appreciation of his unique contribution to Irish culture. He will be the Parade Grand Marshal for the 2011 St. Patrick's Parade in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, also in recognition and appreciation of his unique contribution to Irish culture.
On 16 September 2010 he announced his retirement from broadcasting. The last All-Ireland he commentated on was the 2010 All-Ireland Senior Football Championship Final on 19 September 2010.On 29 October 2010 it was announced that the 2nd International Rules test at Croke Park would be Ó Muircheartaigh's final broadcast as commentator on RTÉ Radio 1. On 30 October 2010 Micheál commentated his final commentary alongside RTÉ's pundit and former Meath footballer Bernard Flynn.
He is contracted to officiate at the 2011–12 Volvo Ocean Race finish in Galway when he will commentate on the finish to the round the world race, to give it a uniquely Irish conclusion. Sailing has been a long time hobby of O Muircheartaigh.
Ó Muircheartaigh writes a weekly sports column for Foinse, the Irish-language newspaper free with the Irish Independent each Wednesday.
Ó Muircheartaigh was invited to read out a piece in Irish and in English at an event called "Laochra" in Croke Park on 24 April 2016 to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Easter Rising.
Other media
He is the main commentator in the 2005 video game Gaelic Games: Football for the PlayStation 2 and its 2007 sequel
He was featured in the video "Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh - Making a ham sandwich" which was posted on a Reddit forum, noting his "relaxing" voice.
Honours
Mícheál was awarded an honorary doctorate by NUI Galway in 1999 for his lifetime service to broadcasting.
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978.
33cm x 30cm Dromkeen Co Limerick
In this image from the Limerick Leader, in the days when a line out was a lottery ,we see an unidentified New Zealand player with the ball in his hands while Moss Keane,Brendan Foley,Pat Whelan & Ginger McLoughlin look on in semi amazement !
There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978.
There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish.
Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
SEA OF EMOTION: Munster’s players and supporters celebrate a famous victory.
However, when coach Des Barry resigned for personal reasons, Munster turned once again to Kiernan. Being the great Munster man that he was and remains, Tom was happy to oblige although as an extremely shrewd observer of the game, one also suspected that he spotted something special in this group of players that had escaped most peoples’ attention. He refused to be dismayed by what he saw in the games in London, instead regarding them as crucial in the build-up to the All Blacks encounter. He was, in fact, ahead of his time, as he laid his hands on video footage of the All Blacks games, something unheard of back in those days, nor was he averse to the idea of making changes in key positions. A major case in point was the introduction of London Irish loose-head prop Les White of whom little was known in Munster rugby circles but who convinced the coaching team he was the ideal man to fill a troublesome position.
Kiernan was also being confronted by many other difficult issues. The team he envisaged taking the field against the tourists was composed of six players (Larry Moloney, Seamus Dennison, Gerry McLoughlin, Pat Whelan, Brendan Foley and Colm Tucker) based in Limerick, four (Greg Barrett, Jimmy Bowen, Moss Finn and Christy Cantillon) in Cork, four more (Donal Canniffe, Tony Ward, Moss Keane and Donal Spring) in Dublin and Les White who, according to Keane, “hailed from somewhere in England, at that time nobody knew where”.
Always bearing in mind that the game then was totally amateur and these guys worked for a living, for most people it would have been impossible to bring them all together on a regular basis for six weeks before the match. But the level of respect for Kiernan was so immense that the group would have walked on the proverbial bed of nails for him if he so requested. So they turned up every Wednesday in Fermoy — a kind of halfway house for the guys travelling from three different locations and over appreciable distances.
Those sessions helped to forge a wonderful team spirit. After all, guys who had been slogging away at work only a short few hours previously would hardly make that kind of sacrifice unless they meant business.
October 31, 1978 dawned wet and windy, prompting hope among the faithful that the conditions would suit Munster who could indulge in their traditional approach sometimes described rather vulgarly as “boot, bite and bollock” and, who knows, with the fanatical Thomond Park crowd cheering them on, anything could happen. Ironically, though, the wind and rain had given way to a clear, blue sky and altogether perfect conditions in good time for the kick-off.
Surely, now, that was Munster’s last hope gone — but that didn’t deter more than 12,000 fans from making their way to Thomond Park and somehow finding a spot to view the action. The vantage points included hundreds seated on the 20-foot high boundary wall, others perched on the towering trees immediately outside the ground and some even watched from the windows of houses at the Ballynanty end that have since been demolished.
The atmosphere was absolutely electric as the teams took the field, the All Blacks performed the Haka and the Welsh referee Corris Thomas got things under way.
The first few skirmishes saw the teams sizing each other up before an incident that was to be recorded in song and story occurred, described here — with just the slightest touch of hyperbole! — by Terry McLean in his book ‘Mourie’s All Blacks’.
“In only the fifth minute, Seamus Dennison, him the fellow that bore the number 13 jersey in the centre, was knocked down in a tackle. He came from the Garryowen club which might explain his subsequent actions — to join that club, so it has been said, one must walk barefooted over broken glass, charge naked through searing fires, run the severest gauntlets and, as a final test of manhood, prepare with unfaltering gaze to make a catch of the highest ball ever kicked while aware that at least eight thundering members of your own team are about to knock you down, trample all over you and into the bargain hiss nasty words at you because you forgot to cry out ‘Mark’.
Moss Keane recalled the incident: “It was the hardest tackle I have ever seen and lifted the whole team. That was the moment we knew we could win the game.” Kiernan also acknowledged the importance of “The Tackle”.
He said: “Tackling is as integral a part of rugby as is a majestic centre three-quarter break. There were two noteworthy tackles during the match by Seamus Dennison. He was injured in the first and I thought he might have to come off. But he repeated the tackle some minutes later.”
Many years on, Stuart Wilson vividly recalled the Dennison tackles and spoke about them in remarkable detail and with commendable honesty: “The move involved me coming in from the blind side wing and it had been working very well on tour. It was a workable move and it was paying off so we just kept rolling it out. Against Munster, the gap opened up brilliantly as it was supposed to except that there was this little guy called Seamus Dennison sitting there in front of me.
“He just basically smacked the living daylights out of me. I dusted myself off and thought, I don’t want to have to do that again. Ten minutes later, we called the same move again thinking we’d change it slightly but, no, it didn’t work and I got hammered again.”
The game was 11 minutes old when the most famous try in the history of Munster rugby was scored.
Tom Kiernan recalled: “It came from a great piece of anticipation by Bowen who in the first place had to run around his man to get to Ward’s kick ahead. He then beat two men and when finally tackled, managed to keep his balance and deliver the ball to Cantillon who went on to score. All of this was evidence of sharpness on Bowen’s part.”
Very soon it would be 9-0. In the first five minutes, a towering garryowen by skipper Canniffe had exposed the vulnerability of the New Zealand rearguard under the high ball. They were to be examined once or twice more but it was from a long range but badly struck penalty attempt by Ward that full-back Brian McKechnie knocked on some 15 yards from his line and close to where Cantillon had touched down a few minutes earlier. You could sense White, Whelan, McLoughlin and co in the front five of the Munster scrum smacking their lips as they settled for the scrum. A quick, straight put-in by Canniffe, a well controlled heel, a smart pass by the scrum-half to Ward and the inevitability of a drop goal. And that’s exactly what happened.
The All Blacks enjoyed the majority of forward possession but the harder they tried, the more they fell into the trap set by the wily Kiernan and so brilliantly carried out by every member of the Munster team.
The tourists might have edged the line-out contest through Andy Haden and Frank Oliver but scrum-half Mark Donaldson endured a miserable afternoon as the Munster forwards poured through and buried him in the Thomond Park turf.
As the minutes passed and the All Blacks became more and more unsure as to what to try next, the Thomond Park hordes chanted “Munster-Munster–Munster” to an ever increasing crescendo until with 12 minutes to go, the noise levels reached deafening proportions.
And then ... a deep, probing kick by Ward put Wilson under further pressure. Eventually, he stumbled over the ball as it crossed the line and nervously conceded a five-metre scrum. The Munster heel was disrupted but the ruck was won, Tucker gained possession and slipped a lovely little pass to Ward whose gifted feet and speed of thought enabled him in a twinkle to drop a goal although surrounded by a swarm of black jerseys. So the game entered its final 10 minutes with the All Blacks needing three scores to win and, of course, that was never going to happen.
Munster knew this, so, too, did the All Blacks. Stu Wilson admitted as much as he explained his part in Wardy’s second drop goal: “Tony Ward banged it down, it bounced a little bit, jigged here, jigged there, and I stumbled, fell over, and all of a sudden the heat was on me. They were good chasers. A kick is a kick — but if you have lots of good chasers on it, they make bad kicks look good. I looked up and realised — I’m not going to run out of here so I just dotted it down. I wasn’t going to run that ball back out at them because five of those mad guys were coming down the track at me and I’m thinking, I’m being hit by these guys all day and I’m looking after my body, thank you. Of course it was a five-yard scrum and Ward banged over another drop goal. That was it, there was the game”.
The final whistle duly sounded with Munster 12 points ahead but the heroes of the hour still had to get off the field and reach the safety of the dressing room. Bodies were embraced, faces were kissed, backs were pummelled, you name it, the gauntlet had to be walked. Even the All Blacks seemed impressed with the sense of joy being released all about them. Andy Haden recalled “the sea of red supporters all over the pitch after the game, you could hardly get off for the wave of celebration that was going on. The whole of Thomond Park glowed in the warmth that someone had put one over on the Blacks.”
Controversially, the All Blacks coach, Jack Gleeson (usually a man capable of accepting the good with the bad and who passed away of cancer within 12 months of the tour), in an unguarded (although possibly misunderstood) moment on the following day, let slip his innermost thoughts on the game.
“We were up against a team of kamikaze tacklers,” he lamented. “We set out on this tour to play 15-man rugby but if teams were to adopt the Munster approach and do all they could to stop the All Blacks from playing an attacking game, then the tour and the game would suffer.”
It was interpreted by the majority of observers as a rare piece of sour grapes from a group who had accepted the defeat in good spirit and it certainly did nothing to diminish Munster respect for the All Blacks and their proud rugby tradition.
And Tom Kiernan and Andy Haden, rugby standard bearers of which their respective countries were justifiably proud, saw things in a similar light.
“Jack’s comment was made in the context of the game and meant as a compliment,” Haden maintained. “Indeed, it was probably a little suggestion to his own side that perhaps we should imitate their efforts and emulate them in that department.”
Tom Kiernan went along with this line of thought: “I thought he was actually paying a compliment to the Munster spirit. Kamikaze pilots were very brave men. That’s what I took out of that. I didn’t think it was a criticism of Munster.”
And Stuart Wilson? “It was meant purely as a compliment. We had been travelling through the UK and winning all our games. We were playing a nice, open style. But we had never met a team that could get up in our faces and tackle us off the field. Every time you got the ball, you didn’t get one player tackling you, you got four. Kamikaze means people are willing to die for the cause and that was the way with every Munster man that day. Their strengths were that they were playing for Munster, that they had a home Thomond Park crowd and they took strength from the fact they were playing one of the best teams in the world.”
You could rely on Terry McLean (famed New Zealand journalist) to be fair and sporting in his reaction to the Thomond Park defeat. Unlike Kiernan and Haden, he scorned Jack Gleeson’s “kamikaze” comment, stating that “it was a stern, severe criticism which wanted in fairness on two grounds. It did not sufficiently praise the spirit of Munster or the presence within the one team of 15 men who each emerged from the match much larger than life-size. Secondly, it was disingenuous or, more accurately, naive.”
“Gleeson thought it sinful that Ward had not once passed the ball. It was worse, he said, that Munster had made aggressive defence the only arm of their attack. Now, what on earth, it could be asked, was Kiernan to do with his team? He held a fine hand with top trumps in Spring, Cantillon, Foley and Whelan in the forwards and Canniffe, Ward, Dennison, Bowen and Moloney in the backs. Tommy Kiernan wasn’t born yesterday. He played to the strength of his team and upon the suspected weaknesses of the All Blacks.”
You could hardly be fairer than that – even if Graham Mourie himself in his 1983 autobiography wasn’t far behind when observing: “Munster were just too good. From the first time Stu Wilson was crashed to the ground as he entered the back line to the last time Mark Donaldson was thrown backwards as he ducked around the side of a maul. They were too good.”
One of the nicest tributes of all came from a famous New Zealand photographer, Peter Bush. He covered numerous All Black tours, was close friends with most of their players and a canny one when it came to finding the ideal position from which to snap his pictures. He was the guy perched precariously on the pillars at the entrance to the pitch as the celebrations went on and which he described 20 years later in his book ‘Who Said It’s Only a Game?’
“I climbed up on a gate at the end of the game to get this photo and in the middle of it all is Moss Keane, one of the great characters of Irish rugby, with an expression of absolute elation. The All Blacks lost 12-0 to a side that played with as much passion as I have ever seen on a rugby field. The great New Zealand prop Gary Knight said to me later: ‘We could have played them for a fortnight and we still wouldn’t have won’. I was doing a little radio piece after the game and got hold of Moss Keane and said ‘Moss, I wonder if ...’ and he said, ‘ho, ho, we beat you bastards’.
“With that, he flung his arms around me and dragged me with him into the shower. I finally managed to disentangle myself and killed the tape. I didn’t mind really because it had been a wonderful day.”
Dimensions :47cm x 57cm
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978.
23cm x 31cm Dromkeen Co Limerick
In this image from the Limerick Leader,we see the traditional haka as performed by the visiting All Blacks Team in 1978.
There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978.
There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish.
Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
SEA OF EMOTION: Munster’s players and supporters celebrate a famous victory.
However, when coach Des Barry resigned for personal reasons, Munster turned once again to Kiernan. Being the great Munster man that he was and remains, Tom was happy to oblige although as an extremely shrewd observer of the game, one also suspected that he spotted something special in this group of players that had escaped most peoples’ attention. He refused to be dismayed by what he saw in the games in London, instead regarding them as crucial in the build-up to the All Blacks encounter. He was, in fact, ahead of his time, as he laid his hands on video footage of the All Blacks games, something unheard of back in those days, nor was he averse to the idea of making changes in key positions. A major case in point was the introduction of London Irish loose-head prop Les White of whom little was known in Munster rugby circles but who convinced the coaching team he was the ideal man to fill a troublesome position.
Kiernan was also being confronted by many other difficult issues. The team he envisaged taking the field against the tourists was composed of six players (Larry Moloney, Seamus Dennison, Gerry McLoughlin, Pat Whelan, Brendan Foley and Colm Tucker) based in Limerick, four (Greg Barrett, Jimmy Bowen, Moss Finn and Christy Cantillon) in Cork, four more (Donal Canniffe, Tony Ward, Moss Keane and Donal Spring) in Dublin and Les White who, according to Keane, “hailed from somewhere in England, at that time nobody knew where”.
Always bearing in mind that the game then was totally amateur and these guys worked for a living, for most people it would have been impossible to bring them all together on a regular basis for six weeks before the match. But the level of respect for Kiernan was so immense that the group would have walked on the proverbial bed of nails for him if he so requested. So they turned up every Wednesday in Fermoy — a kind of halfway house for the guys travelling from three different locations and over appreciable distances.
Those sessions helped to forge a wonderful team spirit. After all, guys who had been slogging away at work only a short few hours previously would hardly make that kind of sacrifice unless they meant business.
October 31, 1978 dawned wet and windy, prompting hope among the faithful that the conditions would suit Munster who could indulge in their traditional approach sometimes described rather vulgarly as “boot, bite and bollock” and, who knows, with the fanatical Thomond Park crowd cheering them on, anything could happen. Ironically, though, the wind and rain had given way to a clear, blue sky and altogether perfect conditions in good time for the kick-off.
Surely, now, that was Munster’s last hope gone — but that didn’t deter more than 12,000 fans from making their way to Thomond Park and somehow finding a spot to view the action. The vantage points included hundreds seated on the 20-foot high boundary wall, others perched on the towering trees immediately outside the ground and some even watched from the windows of houses at the Ballynanty end that have since been demolished.
The atmosphere was absolutely electric as the teams took the field, the All Blacks performed the Haka and the Welsh referee Corris Thomas got things under way.
The first few skirmishes saw the teams sizing each other up before an incident that was to be recorded in song and story occurred, described here — with just the slightest touch of hyperbole! — by Terry McLean in his book ‘Mourie’s All Blacks’.
“In only the fifth minute, Seamus Dennison, him the fellow that bore the number 13 jersey in the centre, was knocked down in a tackle. He came from the Garryowen club which might explain his subsequent actions — to join that club, so it has been said, one must walk barefooted over broken glass, charge naked through searing fires, run the severest gauntlets and, as a final test of manhood, prepare with unfaltering gaze to make a catch of the highest ball ever kicked while aware that at least eight thundering members of your own team are about to knock you down, trample all over you and into the bargain hiss nasty words at you because you forgot to cry out ‘Mark’.
Moss Keane recalled the incident: “It was the hardest tackle I have ever seen and lifted the whole team. That was the moment we knew we could win the game.” Kiernan also acknowledged the importance of “The Tackle”.
He said: “Tackling is as integral a part of rugby as is a majestic centre three-quarter break. There were two noteworthy tackles during the match by Seamus Dennison. He was injured in the first and I thought he might have to come off. But he repeated the tackle some minutes later.”
Many years on, Stuart Wilson vividly recalled the Dennison tackles and spoke about them in remarkable detail and with commendable honesty: “The move involved me coming in from the blind side wing and it had been working very well on tour. It was a workable move and it was paying off so we just kept rolling it out. Against Munster, the gap opened up brilliantly as it was supposed to except that there was this little guy called Seamus Dennison sitting there in front of me.
“He just basically smacked the living daylights out of me. I dusted myself off and thought, I don’t want to have to do that again. Ten minutes later, we called the same move again thinking we’d change it slightly but, no, it didn’t work and I got hammered again.”
The game was 11 minutes old when the most famous try in the history of Munster rugby was scored.
Tom Kiernan recalled: “It came from a great piece of anticipation by Bowen who in the first place had to run around his man to get to Ward’s kick ahead. He then beat two men and when finally tackled, managed to keep his balance and deliver the ball to Cantillon who went on to score. All of this was evidence of sharpness on Bowen’s part.”
Very soon it would be 9-0. In the first five minutes, a towering garryowen by skipper Canniffe had exposed the vulnerability of the New Zealand rearguard under the high ball. They were to be examined once or twice more but it was from a long range but badly struck penalty attempt by Ward that full-back Brian McKechnie knocked on some 15 yards from his line and close to where Cantillon had touched down a few minutes earlier. You could sense White, Whelan, McLoughlin and co in the front five of the Munster scrum smacking their lips as they settled for the scrum. A quick, straight put-in by Canniffe, a well controlled heel, a smart pass by the scrum-half to Ward and the inevitability of a drop goal. And that’s exactly what happened.
The All Blacks enjoyed the majority of forward possession but the harder they tried, the more they fell into the trap set by the wily Kiernan and so brilliantly carried out by every member of the Munster team.
The tourists might have edged the line-out contest through Andy Haden and Frank Oliver but scrum-half Mark Donaldson endured a miserable afternoon as the Munster forwards poured through and buried him in the Thomond Park turf.
As the minutes passed and the All Blacks became more and more unsure as to what to try next, the Thomond Park hordes chanted “Munster-Munster–Munster” to an ever increasing crescendo until with 12 minutes to go, the noise levels reached deafening proportions.
And then ... a deep, probing kick by Ward put Wilson under further pressure. Eventually, he stumbled over the ball as it crossed the line and nervously conceded a five-metre scrum. The Munster heel was disrupted but the ruck was won, Tucker gained possession and slipped a lovely little pass to Ward whose gifted feet and speed of thought enabled him in a twinkle to drop a goal although surrounded by a swarm of black jerseys. So the game entered its final 10 minutes with the All Blacks needing three scores to win and, of course, that was never going to happen.
Munster knew this, so, too, did the All Blacks. Stu Wilson admitted as much as he explained his part in Wardy’s second drop goal: “Tony Ward banged it down, it bounced a little bit, jigged here, jigged there, and I stumbled, fell over, and all of a sudden the heat was on me. They were good chasers. A kick is a kick — but if you have lots of good chasers on it, they make bad kicks look good. I looked up and realised — I’m not going to run out of here so I just dotted it down. I wasn’t going to run that ball back out at them because five of those mad guys were coming down the track at me and I’m thinking, I’m being hit by these guys all day and I’m looking after my body, thank you. Of course it was a five-yard scrum and Ward banged over another drop goal. That was it, there was the game”.
The final whistle duly sounded with Munster 12 points ahead but the heroes of the hour still had to get off the field and reach the safety of the dressing room. Bodies were embraced, faces were kissed, backs were pummelled, you name it, the gauntlet had to be walked. Even the All Blacks seemed impressed with the sense of joy being released all about them. Andy Haden recalled “the sea of red supporters all over the pitch after the game, you could hardly get off for the wave of celebration that was going on. The whole of Thomond Park glowed in the warmth that someone had put one over on the Blacks.”
Controversially, the All Blacks coach, Jack Gleeson (usually a man capable of accepting the good with the bad and who passed away of cancer within 12 months of the tour), in an unguarded (although possibly misunderstood) moment on the following day, let slip his innermost thoughts on the game.
“We were up against a team of kamikaze tacklers,” he lamented. “We set out on this tour to play 15-man rugby but if teams were to adopt the Munster approach and do all they could to stop the All Blacks from playing an attacking game, then the tour and the game would suffer.”
It was interpreted by the majority of observers as a rare piece of sour grapes from a group who had accepted the defeat in good spirit and it certainly did nothing to diminish Munster respect for the All Blacks and their proud rugby tradition.
And Tom Kiernan and Andy Haden, rugby standard bearers of which their respective countries were justifiably proud, saw things in a similar light.
“Jack’s comment was made in the context of the game and meant as a compliment,” Haden maintained. “Indeed, it was probably a little suggestion to his own side that perhaps we should imitate their efforts and emulate them in that department.”
Tom Kiernan went along with this line of thought: “I thought he was actually paying a compliment to the Munster spirit. Kamikaze pilots were very brave men. That’s what I took out of that. I didn’t think it was a criticism of Munster.”
And Stuart Wilson? “It was meant purely as a compliment. We had been travelling through the UK and winning all our games. We were playing a nice, open style. But we had never met a team that could get up in our faces and tackle us off the field. Every time you got the ball, you didn’t get one player tackling you, you got four. Kamikaze means people are willing to die for the cause and that was the way with every Munster man that day. Their strengths were that they were playing for Munster, that they had a home Thomond Park crowd and they took strength from the fact they were playing one of the best teams in the world.”
You could rely on Terry McLean (famed New Zealand journalist) to be fair and sporting in his reaction to the Thomond Park defeat. Unlike Kiernan and Haden, he scorned Jack Gleeson’s “kamikaze” comment, stating that “it was a stern, severe criticism which wanted in fairness on two grounds. It did not sufficiently praise the spirit of Munster or the presence within the one team of 15 men who each emerged from the match much larger than life-size. Secondly, it was disingenuous or, more accurately, naive.”
“Gleeson thought it sinful that Ward had not once passed the ball. It was worse, he said, that Munster had made aggressive defence the only arm of their attack. Now, what on earth, it could be asked, was Kiernan to do with his team? He held a fine hand with top trumps in Spring, Cantillon, Foley and Whelan in the forwards and Canniffe, Ward, Dennison, Bowen and Moloney in the backs. Tommy Kiernan wasn’t born yesterday. He played to the strength of his team and upon the suspected weaknesses of the All Blacks.”
You could hardly be fairer than that – even if Graham Mourie himself in his 1983 autobiography wasn’t far behind when observing: “Munster were just too good. From the first time Stu Wilson was crashed to the ground as he entered the back line to the last time Mark Donaldson was thrown backwards as he ducked around the side of a maul. They were too good.”
One of the nicest tributes of all came from a famous New Zealand photographer, Peter Bush. He covered numerous All Black tours, was close friends with most of their players and a canny one when it came to finding the ideal position from which to snap his pictures. He was the guy perched precariously on the pillars at the entrance to the pitch as the celebrations went on and which he described 20 years later in his book ‘Who Said It’s Only a Game?’
“I climbed up on a gate at the end of the game to get this photo and in the middle of it all is Moss Keane, one of the great characters of Irish rugby, with an expression of absolute elation. The All Blacks lost 12-0 to a side that played with as much passion as I have ever seen on a rugby field. The great New Zealand prop Gary Knight said to me later: ‘We could have played them for a fortnight and we still wouldn’t have won’. I was doing a little radio piece after the game and got hold of Moss Keane and said ‘Moss, I wonder if ...’ and he said, ‘ho, ho, we beat you bastards’.
“With that, he flung his arms around me and dragged me with him into the shower. I finally managed to disentangle myself and killed the tape. I didn’t mind really because it had been a wonderful day.”
Dimensions :47cm x 57cm
Great picture of a recuperating Arkle getting his lunch washed down by a bottle of Guinness by his head lad Paddy Murray.
Ratoath Co Meath. 50cm x 40cm
Arkle (19 April 1957 – 31 May 1970) was an IrishThoroughbred racehorse. A baygelding by Archive out of Bright Cherry, he was the grandson of the unbeaten (in 14 races) flat racehorse and prepotent sire Nearco. Arkle was born at Ballymacoll Stud, County Meath, by Mrs Mary Alison Baker of Malahow House, near Naul, County Dublin. He was named after the mountain Arkle in Sutherland, Scotland that bordered the Duchess of Westminster’s Sutherland estate. Owned by Anne Grosvenor, Duchess of Westminster, he was trained by Tom Dreaper at Greenogue, Kilsallaghan in County Meath, Ireland, and ridden during his steeplechasing career by Pat Taaffe.
At 212, his Timeform rating is the highest ever awarded to a steeplechaser. Only Flyingbolt, also trained by Dreaper, had a rating anywhere near his at 210. Next on their ratings are Sprinter Sacre on 192 and then Kauto Star and Mill House on 191. Despite his career being cut short by injury, Arkle won three Cheltenham Gold Cups, the Blue Riband of steeplechasing, and a host of other top prizes.
On 19th April, 2014 a magnificent 1.1 scale bronze statue was unveiled in Ashbourne, County Meath in commemoration of Arkle.In the 1964 Cheltenham Gold Cup, Arkle beat Mill House (who had won the race the previous year) by five lengths to claim his first Gold Cup at odds of 7/4. It was the last time he did not start as the favourite for a race. Only two other horses entered the Gold Cup that year.
The racing authorities in Ireland took the unprecedented step in the Irish Grand National of devising two weight systems — one to be used when Arkle was running and one when he was not. Arkle won the 1964 race by only one length, but he carried two and half stones more than his rivals.
The following year's Gold Cup saw Arkle beat Mill House by twenty lengths at odds of 3/10. In the 1966 renewal, he was the shortest-priced favourite in history to win the Gold Cup, starting at odds of 1/10. He won the race by thirty lengths despite a mistake early in the race where he ploughed through a fence. However, it did not stop his momentum, nor did he ever look like falling. Arkle had a strange quirk in that he crossed his forelegs when jumping a fence. He went through the season 1965/66 unbeaten in five races.
Arkle won 27 of his 35 starts and won at distances from 1m 6f up to 3m 5f. Legendary Racing commentator Peter O'Sullevan has called Arkle a freak of nature — something unlikely to be seen again.
Besides winning three consecutive Cheltenham Gold Cups (1964, 1965, 1966) and the 1965 King George VI Chase, Arkle triumphed in a number of other important handicap chases, including the 1964 Irish Grand National (under 12-0), the 1964 and 1965 Hennessy Gold Cups (both times under 12-7), the 1965 Gallagher Gold Cup (conceding 16 lb to Mill House while breaking the course record by 17 seconds), and the 1965 Whitbread Gold Cup(under 12-7). In the 1966 Hennessy, he failed by only half a length to give Stalbridge Colonist 35 lb. The scale of the task Arkle faced is shown by the winner coming second and third in the two following Cheltenham Gold Cups, while in third place was the future 1969 Gold Cup winner, What A Myth.
In December 1966, Arkle raced in the King George VI Chase at Kempton Park but struck the guard rail with a hoof when jumping the open ditch, which resulted in a fractured pedal bone; despite this injury, he completed the race and finished second. He was in plaster for four months and, though he made a good enough recovery to go back into training, he never ran again. He was retired and ridden as a hack by his owner and then succumbed to what has been variously described as advanced arthritis or possibly brucellosis and was put down at the early age of 13.
Arkle became a national legend in Ireland. His strength was jokingly claimed to come from drinking 2 pints of Guinness a day. At one point, the slogan Arkle for President was written on a wall in Dublin. The horse was often referred to simply as "Himself", and he supposedly received items of fan mail addressed to 'Himself, Ireland'.
The Irish government-owned Irish National Stud, at Tully, Kildare, Co. Kildare, Ireland, has the skeleton of Arkle on display in its museum. A statue in his memory was erected in Ashbourne Co Meath in 2004.
Dimensions : 55cm x 60cm
Ormonde was a bay colt, bred by Hugh Grosvenor, 1st Duke of Westminster and foaled in 1883 at Eaton Stud in Cheshire. Ormonde's sire was The Derby and Champion Stakes winner Bend Or, also bred by the Duke. Bend Or was a successful stallion, his progeny included Kendal, Ossory, Orbit, Orion, Orvieto, Bona Vista and Laveno.
Ormonde's dam was Doncaster Cup winner Lily Agnes. She was sired by another Derby winner, Macaroni. Lily Agnes began to experience problems with her lungs as a four-year-old, to the extent that jockey John Osborne said he could hear her approaching before he saw her. The problem did not interfere with her racing ability as she continued to win at four and five. She then became a top broodmare also foaling 1000 Guineas winner Farewell, Ormonde's full-brother Ossory and another full-brother Ornament, who produced the outstanding Sceptre, the only racehorse to win four British Classic Races outright.
Ormonde was born at half-past six in the evening of 18 March 1883. The Duke's stud-groom Richard Chapman stated that for several months after foaling, Ormonde was over at the knee. Chapman later said he had never before or since seen a horse with the characteristic so pronounced and that it had seemed impossible for him to ever grow straight. Ormonde did gradually grow out of the problem though and by the time he left the stud to go into training at Kingsclere, trainer John Porter told the Duke he was the best yearling the Duke had sent him. However during the winter of 1884/85, Ormonde had trouble with his knees. The treatment he received for this held his training back considerably, with him only having easy cantering exercises until the summer of 1885.
Ormonde grew into a well-built horse standing 16 hands (64 inches, 163 cm) with excellent bone and straight hocks. Porter later said his neck "was the most muscular I ever saw a Thoroughbred possess." He had an excellent shoulder and short powerful hindquarters that led some to call him a racing machine. When galloping, he held his head low and had a notably long stride. He had a kind temperament, healthy appetite and strong constitution. Porter stated the horse was fond of flowers and would even eat the boutonniere from the jacket of anyone within reach.
Racing career
1885: Two-year-old season
Prior to his racecourse debut, Porter ran Ormonde in a trial against Kendal, Whipper-in and Whitefriar. Kendal, carrying one pound less, won the trial by a length from Ormonde. Kendal had already had a number of races by this point and Ormonde was nowhere near fully fit. By this point he stood 16 hands high and had a very muscular neck and strong back. Porter also noted that when extended, Ormonde had a very long stride. The Duke rode him in a couple of canters and remarked "I felt every moment that I was going to be shot over his head, his propelling power is so terrific."
As a two-year-old, Ormonde did not race until October when he won the Post Sweepstakes race at Newmarket. He started at 5/4 with the filly Modwena, who had won eight races out of ten that year, the 5/6 favourite. In the heavy going, Ormonde went on to win by a length from Modwena. Ormonde's next racecourse appearance came in the Criterion Stakes, again at Newmarket, where his opposition included Oberon and Mephisto. Starting at 4/6, Ormonde won easily by three lengths from Oberon, with Mephisto a distant third. He then started the Dewhurst Plate as the 4/11 favourite, ridden by Fred Archer. After an even start, Ormonde was positioned just behind the leader. As they neared the closing stages, Archer let Ormonde go and he quickly pulled away from the field to beat his stablemate, Whitefriar, easily by four lengths.The field also included Miss Jummy, who went on to win the 1000 Guineas and Epsom Oaks. These three victories earned him £3008. 1885 was considered to have had the best group of two-year-olds for many years.
1886: Three-year-old season
Going into the 1886 season, Ormonde was one of the favourites for the Derby. He was priced at 11/2, similar to Minting, Saraband and The Bard.
2000 Guineas
Ormonde started off his three-year-old campaign in the 2000 Guineas at Newmarket. The race was considered a clash between Ormonde, the unbeaten Middle Park winner Minting and Saraband. In a small field of six, Minting was sent off the 11/10 favourite, Saraband at 3/1 and Ormonde at 7/2. This time Ormonde was ridden by George Barrett, with Fred Archer riding Saraband. The horses ran almost in line in the early stages. Saraband began to struggle and was beaten with two furlongs to run. At this point Ormonde and Minting took over the lead from St. Mirin. Ormonde then went on to record as easy 2 length victory over Minting, with Mephisto a further 10 lengths back in third, who in turn was two lengths ahead of Saraband.
Engraving of the closing stages of the 1886 Derby, with Ormonde leading The Bard
The Derby
After his Newmarket performance, Ormonde was the favourite for the Derby with Fred Archer back as his jockey. A small field of 9 went to post, with Ormonde the 40/85 favourite and his main opposition, The Bard, at 7/2 who. The Bard was also undefeated and had won many races as a two-year-old. The start was not even, with outsider Coracle almost 6 lengths clear of Ormonde, who was a similar distance clear of the rest. Ormonde and The Bard took over the lead at Tattenham corner and the two raced up the straight. The Bard got a neck in front, but when Archer asked Ormonde for an effort, he pulled in front to win by 1½ lengths from The Bard, with St. Mirin a further 10 lengths back in third.
Royal Ascot
At Royal Ascot against just two opponents, Ormonde lined up as the 3/100 favourite for the St. James's Palace Stakes. He won easily by ¾ length from Calais. Three days later he faced a stronger field in the Hardwicke Stakes including 1885 Derby and St Leger winner Melton. Ormonde, the 30/100 favourite, won easily again though, beating Melton by 2 lengths. He then had a break from the racecourse. After Ascot Ormonde was already as short as 1/2 for the St Leger.
Autumn
While Ormonde was galloping one morning shortly before the St Leger Stakes, Porter noticed him making a whistling noise.In spite of this infirmity, Ormonde started the final classic of the year as the 1/7 favourite. Ridden again by Archer, he pulled away half a mile out and won easily by 4 lengths from St. Mirin, without even being asked for an effort. The win made him the fourth winner of the English Triple Crown.
He next ran in the Great Foal Stakes at Newmarket, again winning easily by three lengths from Mephisto.[13] He then won the Newmarket St Leger in a walkover and the Champion Stakes as the 1/100 favourite by a length from Oberon. Ormonde then entered a free handicap at Newmarket. Starting the 1/7 favourite and carrying 9 st 2 lb, he won by eight lengths from Mephisto, to whom he was conceding 28 lbs. At the same meeting he won a private sweepstakes in a walkover. The sweepstakes was an originally scheduled as a match race between Ormonde, The Bard, Melton and possibly Bendigo, the 1886 Eclipse winner. Bendigo was not nominated from the race in the end. The Bard and Melton were though and both forfeited £500 to Ormonde's connections. Throughout the end of the season, Ormonde's breathing had become progressively louder until he was labelled a roarer.
1887: Four-year-old season
Ormonde did not race until June 1887. His return was assisted by an experimental treatment involving "galvanic shocks" being applied daily to his chest and throat.His reappearance came at Royal Ascot in the Rous Memorial Stakes, where his opposition included Kilwarlin, who went on to win the season's St. Leger Stakes. Ormonde was conceding 25 pounds to Kilwarin and before the race Kilwarin's owner Captain Machell said to Porter, "The horse was never foaled that could give Kilwarin 25 pounds and beat him." After Fred Archer's suicide, Tom Cannon was now Ormonde's jockey. He led the race throughout and won easily by six lengths from Kilwarlin, with Agave a distant third. Upon seeing Captain Machell in the paddock after the race Porter said, "Well, what did you think of it now?" Machell replied, "Ormonde is not a horse at all; he's a damned steam-engine."
He raced again the next day in the Hardwicke Stakes, where he faced a strong field including Minting and Eclipse Stakes winner Bendigo. Minting's trainer Matt Dawson was confident that his horse could win this time due to Ormonde's breathing problems. As the four runners made their way to the starting post he remarked to Porter "You will be beaten today, John. No horse afflicted with Ormonde's infirmity can hope to beat Minting."Indeed, Porter himself admitted he was not overly confident of victory. During the race George Barrett, aboard Phil, impeded Ormonde and he was made to struggle for the first time in his career. During the closing stages, Ormonde and Minting battled with each other and Ormonde just came out on top, winning by a neck, with Bendigo in third.
In his final race, he won the 6 furlong Imperial Gold Cup at Newmarket. Starting at 30/100 he made all the running and won by two lengths from Whitefriar.
Ormonde was then retired as the most celebrated horse of his era. He was sent by train to Waterloo Station, then walked to Grosvenor House in Mayfair, where he was the guest of honor at a garden party to celebrate Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee.
Ormonde is generally considered one of the greatest racehorses ever. At the time he was often labelled as the 'horse of the century'. His achievements are even more impressive considering the strength of some of the other horses foaled in 1883. It is said that both Minting and The Bard were good enough to have won The Derby nine out of ten years. In early 1888 Minting, the horse Ormonde beat easily in the 2000 Guineas, was rated 15 pounds superior to the 1887 Derby winner Merry Hampton and the 1887 St Leger winner Kilwarlin.
Stud record
Ormonde went to the Duke of Westminster's Eaton Stud in 1888, where he sired seven foals from the sixteen mares he covered, including Goldfinch and Orme. In 1889, he was moved to Moulton Paddocks in Newmarket, but became sick and could only cover a few mares, with only one live foal produced in 1890. He was subsequently returned to Eaton Stud but his fertility never recovered. To the astonishment of many, Ormonde was then sold overseas. Both he and his dam were roarers, and the Duke felt this could weaken English bloodstock. Ormonde was sold to Senor Bocau of Argentina for £12,000, and then in 1893 to William O'Brien Macdonough, of California for £31,250. He stood at the Menlo Stock Farm in California for several years, where he sired 16 foals. including Futurity Stakes winner Ormondale.
Vintage showcard for the Irish Hospital Sweepstakes selling at 2 shillings & 6 pence for a quarter share and full tickets for 10 shillings a piece.
Dublin 34cm x 29cm
The Irish Hospital Sweepstake was a lottery established in the Irish Free State in 1930 as the Irish Free State Hospitals' Sweepstake to finance hospitals. It is generally referred to as the Irish Sweepstake, frequently abbreviated to Irish Sweeps or Irish Sweep. The Public Charitable Hospitals (Temporary Provisions) Act, 1930 was the act that established the lottery; as this act expired in 1934, in accordance with its terms, the Public Hospitals Acts were the legislative basis for the scheme thereafter. The main organisers were Richard Duggan, Captain Spencer Freeman and Joe McGrath. Duggan was a well known Dublin bookmaker who had organised a number of sweepstakes in the decade prior to setting up the Hospitals' Sweepstake. Captain Freeman was a Welsh-born engineer and former captain in the British Army. After the Constitution of Ireland was enacted in 1937, the name Irish Hospitals' Sweepstake was adopted.
The sweepstake was established because there was a need for investment in hospitals and medical services and the public finances were unable to meet this expense at the time. As the people of Ireland were unable to raise sufficient funds, because of the low population, a significant amount of the funds were raised in the United Kingdom and United States, often among the emigrant Irish. Potentially winning tickets were drawn from rotating drums, usually by nurses in uniform. Each such ticket was assigned to a horse expected to run in one of several horse races, including the Cambridgeshire Handicap, Derby and Grand National. Tickets that drew the favourite horses thus stood a higher likelihood of winning and a series of winning horses had to be chosen on the accumulator system, allowing for enormous prizes.
F. F. Warren, the engineer who designed the mixing drums from which sweepstake tickets were drawn
The original sweepstake draws were held at The Mansion House, Dublin on 19 May 1939 under the supervision of the Chief Commissioner of Police, and were moved to the more permanent fixture at the Royal Dublin Society (RDS) in Ballsbridge later in 1940.
The Adelaide Hospital in Dublin was the only hospital at the time not to accept money from the Hospitals Trust, as the governors disapproved of sweepstakes.
From the 1960s onwards, revenues declined. The offices were moved to Lotamore House in Cork. Although giving the appearance of a public charitable lottery, with nurses featured prominently in the advertising and drawings, the Sweepstake was in fact a private for-profit lottery company, and the owners were paid substantial dividends from the profits. Fortune Magazine described it as "a private company run for profit and its handful of stockholders have used their earnings from the sweepstakes to build a group of industrial enterprises that loom quite large in the modest Irish economy. Waterford Glass, Irish Glass Bottle Company and many other new Irish companies were financed by money from this enterprise and up to 5,000 people were given jobs."[3] By his death in 1966, Joe McGrath had interests in the racing industry, and held the Renault dealership for Ireland besides large financial and property assets. He was known throughout Ireland for his tough business attitude but also by his generous spirit.At that time, Ireland was still one of the poorer countries in Europe; he believed in investment in Ireland. His home, Cabinteely House, was donated to the state in 1986. The house and the surrounding park are now in the ownership of Dún Laoghaire–Rathdown County Council who have invested in restoring and maintaining the house and grounds as a public park.
In 1986, the Irish government created a new public lottery, and the company failed to secure the new contract to manage it. The final sweepstake was held in January 1986 and the company was unsuccessful for a licence bid for the Irish National Lottery, which was won by An Post later that year. The company went into voluntary liquidation in March 1987. The majority of workers did not have a pension scheme but the sweepstake had fed many families during lean times and was regarded as a safe job.The Public Hospitals (Amendment) Act, 1990 was enacted for the orderly winding up of the scheme which had by then almost £500,000 in unclaimed prizes and accrued interest.
A collection of advertising material relating to the Irish Hospitals' Sweepstakes is among the Special Collections of National Irish Visual Arts Library.
At the time of the Sweepstake's inception, lotteries were generally illegal in the United Kingdom, the United States and Canada. In the absence of other readily available lotteries, the Irish Sweeps became popular. Even though tickets were illegal outside Ireland, millions were sold in the US and Great Britain. How many of these tickets failed to make it back for the drawing is unknown. The United States Customs Service alone confiscated and destroyed several million counterfoils from shipments being returned to Ireland.
In the UK, the sweepstakes caused some strain in Anglo-Irish relations, and the Betting and Lotteries Act 1934 was passed by the parliament of the UK to prevent export and import of lottery related materials. The United States Congress had outlawed the use of the US Postal Service for lottery purposes in 1890. A thriving black market sprang up for tickets in both jurisdictions.
From the 1950s onwards, as the American, British and Canadian governments relaxed their attitudes towards this form of gambling, and went into the lottery business themselves, the Irish Sweeps, never legal in the United States,declined in popularity.
Origins: Co Galway
Dimensions :39cm x 31cm
The Irish Hospitals Sweepstake was established because there was a need for investment in hospitals and medical services and the public finances were unable to meet this expense at the time. As the people of Ireland were unable to raise sufficient funds, because of the low population, a significant amount of the funds were raised in the United Kingdom and United States, often among the emigrant Irish. Potentially winning tickets were drawn from rotating drums, usually by nurses in uniform. Each such ticket was assigned to a horse expected to run in one of several horse races, including the Cambridgeshire Handicap, Derby and Grand National. Tickets that drew the favourite horses thus stood a higher likelihood of winning and a series of winning horses had to be chosen on the accumulator system, allowing for enormous prizes.
F. F. Warren, the engineer who designed the mixing drums from which sweepstake tickets were drawn
The original sweepstake draws were held at The Mansion House, Dublin on 19 May 1939 under the supervision of the Chief Commissioner of Police, and were moved to the more permanent fixture at the Royal Dublin Society (RDS) in Ballsbridge later in 1940.
The Adelaide Hospital in Dublin was the only hospital at the time not to accept money from the Hospitals Trust, as the governors disapproved of sweepstakes.
From the 1960s onwards, revenues declined. The offices were moved to Lotamore House in Cork. Although giving the appearance of a public charitable lottery, with nurses featured prominently in the advertising and drawings, the Sweepstake was in fact a private for-profit lottery company, and the owners were paid substantial dividends from the profits. Fortune Magazine described it as "a private company run for profit and its handful of stockholders have used their earnings from the sweepstakes to build a group of industrial enterprises that loom quite large in the modest Irish economy. Waterford Glass, Irish Glass Bottle Company and many other new Irish companies were financed by money from this enterprise and up to 5,000 people were given jobs."By his death in 1966, Joe McGrath had interests in the racing industry, and held the Renault dealership for Ireland besides large financial and property assets. He was known throughout Ireland for his tough business attitude but also by his generous spirit. At that time, Ireland was still one of the poorer countries in Europe; he believed in investment in Ireland. His home, Cabinteely House, was donated to the state in 1986. The house and the surrounding park are now in the ownership of Dún Laoghaire–Rathdown County Council who have invested in restoring and maintaining the house and grounds as a public park.
In 1986, the Irish government created a new public lottery, and the company failed to secure the new contract to manage it. The final sweepstake was held in January 1986 and the company was unsuccessful for a licence bid for the Irish National Lottery, which was won by An Post later that year. The company went into voluntary liquidation in March 1987. The majority of workers did not have a pension scheme but the sweepstake had fed many families during lean times and was regarded as a safe job.The Public Hospitals (Amendment) Act, 1990 was enacted for the orderly winding up of the scheme,which had by then almost £500,000 in unclaimed prizes and accrued interest.
A collection of advertising material relating to the Irish Hospitals' Sweepstakes is among the Special Collections of National Irish Visual Arts Library.
At the time of the Sweepstake's inception, lotteries were generally illegal in the United Kingdom, the United States and Canada. In the absence of other readily available lotteries, the Irish Sweeps became popular. Even though tickets were illegal outside Ireland, millions were sold in the US and Great Britain. How many of these tickets failed to make it back for the drawing is unknown. The United States Customs Service alone confiscated and destroyed several million counterfoils from shipments being returned to Ireland.
In the UK, the sweepstakes caused some strain in Anglo-Irish relations, and the Betting and Lotteries Act 1934 was passed by the parliament of the UK to prevent export and import of lottery related materials.[6][7] The United States Congress had outlawed the use of the US Postal Service for lottery purposes in 1890. A thriving black market sprang up for tickets in both jurisdictions.
From the 1950s onwards, as the American, British and Canadian governments relaxed their attitudes towards this form of gambling, and went into the lottery business themselves, the Irish Sweeps, never legal in the United States,[8]:227 declined in popularity.
45cm x 30cm Thurles Co Tipperary
Classic commentary quote from the great Micheal O'Muircheartaigh.
Micheal Ó Muircheartaigh (born 20 August 1930) is an Irish Gaelic gamescommentator for the Irish national radio and television, RTÉ. In a career that has spanned six decades he has come to be regarded as the "voice of Gaelic games." His prolific career has earned him a place in Guinness World Records
Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh was born in Dún Síon just outside Dingle, County Kerry in 1930.Ó Muircheartaigh grew up on the family farm and was educated locally in Dingle. In September 1945 he began studying at Coláiste Íosagáin in Baile Bhúirne in the County CorkGaeltacht where he was in training to be a teacher. It was at this all-Irish school that his name changed from Michael Moriarty to the Irish version Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh. In September 1948 he began the final year of his teacher training at St Patrick's College of Education in Drumcondra, Dublin.
Broadcasting career
In early March 1949 Ó Muircheartaigh, along with ten other students from the college, and several from other colleges, did a test commentary on a hurling game at Croke Park. Each student had to commentate for five minutes in Irish and the most successful would be selected for further commentary work. Ó Muircheartaigh had never seen a game of hurling before in his life. But he knew that those adjudicators judging his commentary were not able to see the game:
'Twas a new game to me. But I knew one person. He was in goal for UCD and his name was Tadhg Hurley. He went to school in Dingle and he had hurling because his father was a bank manager and had spent time in Tipperary or Cork. The moment my minute started, he was saving a fantastic shot. And he cleared it away out, I can still see it, out over the sideline, Cusack Stand side of the field, eighty yards out. But it was deflected out by a member of the opposition. The adjudicators couldn't see that that didn't happen. Who was called out to take the line-ball? The only person I knew, Tadhg Hurley. And he took a beautiful line-ball - Christy Ring never took better. He landed it down in front of the Railway goal, there was a dreadful foul on the full-forward, and there was a penalty. And who was called up to take the penalty? Tadhg Hurley. 'Twas the best individual display ever seen in Croke Park. It took him at least a minute to come from the Canal goal up. And while he was coming up I spoke about his brother Bob, who was in Donal's class, and his sister who used to come out to Dún Síon strand during the summer. So eventually he took the penalty. I've seen DJ Carey, I've seen Nicky Rackard, I've seen Christy Ring. None of them could ever equal the display he gave that day... Sin mar a thosaigh sé!
Ó Muircheartaigh was the one selected and his first assignment was to provide an all-Irish commentary on the 1949 Railway Cup final on St. Patrick's Day.
He graduated from St. Patrick's College a little later and also completed a Bachelor of Arts degree from University College Dublin. He taught economics, accountancy and Irish in both primary and secondary schools throughout Dublin, the majority of which were run by the Christian Brothers. He continued teaching up until the 1980s, when he became a full-time broadcaster with Raidió Teilifís Éireann.
For the early part of his broadcasting career Ó Muircheartaigh commentated on MinorGAA matches, in the Irish language. He also replaced the legendary Micheál O'Hehir when he was not available to commentate. Eventually when O'Hehir was forced to retire in the mid-1980s Ó Muircheartaigh took over as the station's premier radio commentator. He developed his own inimitable style of commentary and his accent is unmistakably that of a native Irish speaker. He is a true lover of Gaelic Athletic Association and it is reflected in the enthusiasm he brings to matches. His unusual turn of phrase has made him a much loved broadcaster and often imitated character. He has become particularly famous in Ireland for his unusual turns of phrase in the heat of the moment while commentating. Today he commentates on RTÉ Radio 1. In 2004 he published his autobiography, 'From Dún Sion to Croke Park'.
Ó Muircheartaigh's commentaries for RTÉ Radio 1's Sunday Sport show won him a Jacob's Award in 1992. He was also the Parade Grand Marshal for the 2007 St. Patrick's Festival, having been given the honour by the chairman of the Festival in recognition and appreciation of his unique contribution to Irish culture. He will be the Parade Grand Marshal for the 2011 St. Patrick's Parade in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, also in recognition and appreciation of his unique contribution to Irish culture.
On 16 September 2010 he announced his retirement from broadcasting. The last All-Ireland he commentated on was the 2010 All-Ireland Senior Football Championship Final on 19 September 2010.On 29 October 2010 it was announced that the 2nd International Rules test at Croke Park would be Ó Muircheartaigh's final broadcast as commentator on RTÉ Radio 1. On 30 October 2010 Micheál commentated his final commentary alongside RTÉ's pundit and former Meath footballer Bernard Flynn.
He is contracted to officiate at the 2011–12 Volvo Ocean Race finish in Galway when he will commentate on the finish to the round the world race, to give it a uniquely Irish conclusion. Sailing has been a long time hobby of O Muircheartaigh.
Ó Muircheartaigh writes a weekly sports column for Foinse, the Irish-language newspaper free with the Irish Independent each Wednesday.
Ó Muircheartaigh was invited to read out a piece in Irish and in English at an event called "Laochra" in Croke Park on 24 April 2016 to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Easter Rising.
Other media
He is the main commentator in the 2005 video game Gaelic Games: Football for the PlayStation 2 and its 2007 sequel
He was featured in the video "Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh - Making a ham sandwich" which was posted on a Reddit forum, noting his "relaxing" voice.
Honours
Mícheál was awarded an honorary doctorate by NUI Galway in 1999 for his lifetime service to broadcasting.
Great aerial shot of packed to capacity Sample Stadium,Thurles for the specially staged 1984 All Ireland Hurling Final between Cork and Offaly.
35cm x 45cm. Thurles Co Tipperary
The Semple Stadium is the home of hurling and Gaelic football for Tipperary GAA and for the province of Munster. Located in Thurles, County Tipperary, it is the second largest GAA stadium in Ireland (after Croke Park), with a capacity of 45,690. Over the decades since 1926, it has established itself as the leading venue for Munster hurling followers, hosting the Munster Hurling Final on many memorable occasions.
The main or 'Old Stand' of the ground (also known as the 'Ardán Ó Coinneáin' or 'Dr Kinane Stand') lies across from the 'New Stand' (also known as the 'Ardán Ó Riáin') both of which are covered. Behind the goals are two uncovered terraces known as the 'Town End' (also known as the 'Davin Terrace') and the 'Killinan End' (also known as the 'Maher Terrace') respectively.
Currently the stadium has a capacity of 45,690 of which 24,000 are seated.
The Dome
The sports hall accommodates a full-sized basketball court suitable for national standard competition. The hall is also lined for badminton, volleyball, and indoor soccer. It is used in the evenings and weekends by the Tipperary hurling and football teams for training and on match days, the building is used to accommodate GAA and sponsor guests for corporate lunches and functions. It has also been used as a music venue.
Future development
In July 2018 Tipperary County Board prepared to submit plans to Tipperary County Council to see the Kinnane stand redeveloped into a multi-purpose facility.
The proposal would see the “Old Stand” as it is known to many, have a second level created over the concourse at the back of the stand. The half nearest the Killinan End terrace will be dedicated to players and will include a full-sized gym, physio room, stats/analysis room plus changing rooms and toilet facilities. The other half, towards the Sarsfields Centre side, would include a function room to accommodate up to 250 people, with adjoining bar and kitchen facility for catering. The development will also include a new corridor leading to a new VIP enclosure area in the Kinnane stand. The estimated cost of the project is €5 million.
The planning application for the development was lodged with Tipperary County Council in April 2019. The planning application also includes reconfiguration of the seating area and modifications to the ground floor, including turnstiles, the construction of a new exit gate, and three service cores providing access to upper floor levels, which will include wheelchair-accessible turnstiles. Wilson Architecture in Cork was commissioned to help put together the planning application. Planning permission was granted in April 2020.
History
Semple Stadium, north-east corner
The grounds on which Semple Stadium is built were formerly known as Thurles Sportsfield. The site was offered for sale in 1910 at the wish of Canon M.K. Ryanand was purchased by local Gaelic games enthusiasts for £900. To meet the cost of the purchase, an issue of shares was subscribed by the townspeople. The grounds remained in the hands of the shareholders until 1956 when they were transferred to the Gaelic Athletic Association.
In 1934 in anticipation of the All-Ireland Hurling Final being held in the grounds to mark the golden jubilee of the Association, extensive improvements were made to bring the field requirements up to the demands which a crowd of up to 60,000 would make. The embankments around the field were raised and extended and the stand accommodation was also extended. However, the jubilee final was held in Croke Park and it was another 50 years before the Stadium would host the long-awaited All-Ireland final as a showpiece to mark the centenary.
In 1968 further developments took place when the Dr. Kinane Stand was completed and opened. In 1971 the stadium was named after Tom Semple, famed captain of the Thurles "Blues". He won All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship medals in 1900, 1906 and 1908. The Ardán Ó Riáin opposite the Kinane Stand and the terracing at the town end of the field were completed in 1981 at a cost of £500,000. This development and the terracing at the Killinan end of the field were part of a major improvement scheme for the celebration of the centenary All-Ireland Hurling Final between Cork and Offaly in 1984.
Dublin v Kerry in the quarter-finals of the 2001 All-Ireland Senior Football Championship was held at Semple Stadium.
In April 2006 Tipperary County Board announced an €18 million redevelopment plan for the Stadium. The three-year project aimed to boost capacity to over 55,000, as well as providing a wide range of modern facilities such as corporate space concessions, dining and changing areas within both main stands. There were also plans to upgrade the standing terraces and install a modern floodlighting facility. Phase one of the upgrade project, upgrading the Kinnane Stand side of the stadium, involved expenditure of €5.5 million.
On 14 February 2009 the new state of the art floodlights were switched on by GAA PresidentNickey Brennan before the National Hurling League game against Cork.
In 2016, Hawk-Eye was installed in the stadium and used for the first time during the Munster Championship quarter-final between Tipperary and Cork.
An architectural consultancy has been appointed to lead a design team, tasked with preparing a master plan for the redevelopment of Semple Stadium.
Music festival
The Féile Festival, ran from 1990 to 1994 (and returned in 1997 for one day), was held at Semple Stadium. At the height of its success, an estimated 150,000 people attended the festival, which was also known as "The Trip to Tipp". Irish and international artists participated, including The Prodigy, The Cranberries, Blur, Bryan Adams, Van Morrison, Rage Against the Machine, The Saw Doctors and Christy Moore.
The Féile Classical Concerts took place at Semple Stadium in September 2018. Line up included Irish musical acts that played in the 1990s at the Féile festivals. Named as Tipp Classical, it will return in September 2019.
40cm x 23cm Thurles Co Tipperary The All-Ireland Junior Hurling Championship was a hurling competition organized by the Gaelic Athletic Association in Ireland. The competition was originally contested by the second teams of the strong counties, and the first teams of the weaker counties. In the years from 1961 to 1973 and from 1997 until now, the strong counties have competed for the All-Ireland Intermediate Hurling Championship instead. The competition was then restricted to the weaker counties. The competition was discontinued after 2004 as these counties now compete for the Nicky Rackard Cup instead. From 1974 to 1982, the original format of the competition was abandoned, and the competition was incorporated in Division 3 of the National Hurling League. The original format, including the strong hurling counties was re-introduced in 1983. 1930 – TIPPERARY: Paddy Harty (Captain), Tom Harty, Willie Ryan, Tim Connolly, Mick McGann, Martin Browne, Ned Wade, Tom Ryan, Jack Dwyer, Mick Ryan, Dan Looby, Pat Furlong, Bill O’Gorman, Joe Fletcher, Sean Harrington.
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978. 40cm x 30cm There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978. There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish. Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season. However, when coach Des Barry resigned for personal reasons, Munster turned once again to Kiernan. Being the great Munster man that he was and remains, Tom was happy to oblige although as an extremely shrewd observer of the game, one also suspected that he spotted something special in this group of players that had escaped most peoples’ attention. He refused to be dismayed by what he saw in the games in London, instead regarding them as crucial in the build-up to the All Blacks encounter. He was, in fact, ahead of his time, as he laid his hands on video footage of the All Blacks games, something unheard of back in those days, nor was he averse to the idea of making changes in key positions. A major case in point was the introduction of London Irish loose-head prop Les White of whom little was known in Munster rugby circles but who convinced the coaching team he was the ideal man to fill a troublesome position. Kiernan was also being confronted by many other difficult issues. The team he envisaged taking the field against the tourists was composed of six players (Larry Moloney, Seamus Dennison, Gerry McLoughlin, Pat Whelan, Brendan Foley and Colm Tucker) based in Limerick, four (Greg Barrett, Jimmy Bowen, Moss Finn and Christy Cantillon) in Cork, four more (Donal Canniffe, Tony Ward, Moss Keane and Donal Spring) in Dublin and Les White who, according to Keane, “hailed from somewhere in England, at that time nobody knew where”. Always bearing in mind that the game then was totally amateur and these guys worked for a living, for most people it would have been impossible to bring them all together on a regular basis for six weeks before the match. But the level of respect for Kiernan was so immense that the group would have walked on the proverbial bed of nails for him if he so requested. So they turned up every Wednesday in Fermoy — a kind of halfway house for the guys travelling from three different locations and over appreciable distances. Those sessions helped to forge a wonderful team spirit. After all, guys who had been slogging away at work only a short few hours previously would hardly make that kind of sacrifice unless they meant business. October 31, 1978 dawned wet and windy, prompting hope among the faithful that the conditions would suit Munster who could indulge in their traditional approach sometimes described rather vulgarly as “boot, bite and bollock” and, who knows, with the fanatical Thomond Park crowd cheering them on, anything could happen. Ironically, though, the wind and rain had given way to a clear, blue sky and altogether perfect conditions in good time for the kick-off. Surely, now, that was Munster’s last hope gone — but that didn’t deter more than 12,000 fans from making their way to Thomond Park and somehow finding a spot to view the action. The vantage points included hundreds seated on the 20-foot high boundary wall, others perched on the towering trees immediately outside the ground and some even watched from the windows of houses at the Ballynanty end that have since been demolished. The atmosphere was absolutely electric as the teams took the field, the All Blacks performed the Haka and the Welsh referee Corris Thomas got things under way. The first few skirmishes saw the teams sizing each other up before an incident that was to be recorded in song and story occurred, described here — with just the slightest touch of hyperbole! — by Terry McLean in his book ‘Mourie’s All Blacks’. “In only the fifth minute, Seamus Dennison, him the fellow that bore the number 13 jersey in the centre, was knocked down in a tackle. He came from the Garryowen club which might explain his subsequent actions — to join that club, so it has been said, one must walk barefooted over broken glass, charge naked through searing fires, run the severest gauntlets and, as a final test of manhood, prepare with unfaltering gaze to make a catch of the highest ball ever kicked while aware that at least eight thundering members of your own team are about to knock you down, trample all over you and into the bargain hiss nasty words at you because you forgot to cry out ‘Mark’. Moss Keane recalled the incident: “It was the hardest tackle I have ever seen and lifted the whole team. That was the moment we knew we could win the game.” Kiernan also acknowledged the importance of “The Tackle”.Many years on, Stuart Wilson vividly recalled the Dennison tackles and spoke about them in remarkable detail and with commendable honesty: “The move involved me coming in from the blind side wing and it had been working very well on tour. It was a workable move and it was paying off so we just kept rolling it out. Against Munster, the gap opened up brilliantly as it was supposed to except that there was this little guy called Seamus Dennison sitting there in front of me. “He just basically smacked the living daylights out of me. I dusted myself off and thought, I don’t want to have to do that again. Ten minutes later, we called the same move again thinking we’d change it slightly but, no, it didn’t work and I got hammered again.” The game was 11 minutes old when the most famous try in the history of Munster rugby was scored. Tom Kiernan recalled: “It came from a great piece of anticipation by Bowen who in the first place had to run around his man to get to Ward’s kick ahead. He then beat two men and when finally tackled, managed to keep his balance and deliver the ball to Cantillon who went on to score. All of this was evidence of sharpness on Bowen’s part.” Very soon it would be 9-0. In the first five minutes, a towering garryowen by skipper Canniffe had exposed the vulnerability of the New Zealand rearguard under the high ball. They were to be examined once or twice more but it was from a long range but badly struck penalty attempt by Ward that full-back Brian McKechnie knocked on some 15 yards from his line and close to where Cantillon had touched down a few minutes earlier. You could sense White, Whelan, McLoughlin and co in the front five of the Munster scrum smacking their lips as they settled for the scrum. A quick, straight put-in by Canniffe, a well controlled heel, a smart pass by the scrum-half to Ward and the inevitability of a drop goal. And that’s exactly what happened. The All Blacks enjoyed the majority of forward possession but the harder they tried, the more they fell into the trap set by the wily Kiernan and so brilliantly carried out by every member of the Munster team. The tourists might have edged the line-out contest through Andy Haden and Frank Oliver but scrum-half Mark Donaldson endured a miserable afternoon as the Munster forwards poured through and buried him in the Thomond Park turf. As the minutes passed and the All Blacks became more and more unsure as to what to try next, the Thomond Park hordes chanted “Munster-Munster–Munster” to an ever increasing crescendo until with 12 minutes to go, the noise levels reached deafening proportions. And then ... a deep, probing kick by Ward put Wilson under further pressure. Eventually, he stumbled over the ball as it crossed the line and nervously conceded a five-metre scrum. The Munster heel was disrupted but the ruck was won, Tucker gained possession and slipped a lovely little pass to Ward whose gifted feet and speed of thought enabled him in a twinkle to drop a goal although surrounded by a swarm of black jerseys. So the game entered its final 10 minutes with the All Blacks needing three scores to win and, of course, that was never going to happen. Munster knew this, so, too, did the All Blacks. Stu Wilson admitted as much as he explained his part in Wardy’s second drop goal: “Tony Ward banged it down, it bounced a little bit, jigged here, jigged there, and I stumbled, fell over, and all of a sudden the heat was on me. They were good chasers. A kick is a kick — but if you have lots of good chasers on it, they make bad kicks look good. I looked up and realised — I’m not going to run out of here so I just dotted it down. I wasn’t going to run that ball back out at them because five of those mad guys were coming down the track at me and I’m thinking, I’m being hit by these guys all day and I’m looking after my body, thank you. Of course it was a five-yard scrum and Ward banged over another drop goal. That was it, there was the game”. The final whistle duly sounded with Munster 12 points ahead but the heroes of the hour still had to get off the field and reach the safety of the dressing room. Bodies were embraced, faces were kissed, backs were pummelled, you name it, the gauntlet had to be walked. Even the All Blacks seemed impressed with the sense of joy being released all about them. Andy Haden recalled “the sea of red supporters all over the pitch after the game, you could hardly get off for the wave of celebration that was going on. The whole of Thomond Park glowed in the warmth that someone had put one over on the Blacks.” Controversially, the All Blacks coach, Jack Gleeson (usually a man capable of accepting the good with the bad and who passed away of cancer within 12 months of the tour), in an unguarded (although possibly misunderstood) moment on the following day, let slip his innermost thoughts on the game. “We were up against a team of kamikaze tacklers,” he lamented. “We set out on this tour to play 15-man rugby but if teams were to adopt the Munster approach and do all they could to stop the All Blacks from playing an attacking game, then the tour and the game would suffer.” It was interpreted by the majority of observers as a rare piece of sour grapes from a group who had accepted the defeat in good spirit and it certainly did nothing to diminish Munster respect for the All Blacks and their proud rugby tradition.He said: “Tackling is as integral a part of rugby as is a majestic centre three-quarter break. There were two noteworthy tackles during the match by Seamus Dennison. He was injured in the first and I thought he might have to come off. But he repeated the tackle some minutes later.”“Jack’s comment was made in the context of the game and meant as a compliment,” Haden maintained. “Indeed, it was probably a little suggestion to his own side that perhaps we should imitate their efforts and emulate them in that department.” Tom Kiernan went along with this line of thought: “I thought he was actually paying a compliment to the Munster spirit. Kamikaze pilots were very brave men. That’s what I took out of that. I didn’t think it was a criticism of Munster.” And Stuart Wilson? “It was meant purely as a compliment. We had been travelling through the UK and winning all our games. We were playing a nice, open style. But we had never met a team that could get up in our faces and tackle us off the field. Every time you got the ball, you didn’t get one player tackling you, you got four. Kamikaze means people are willing to die for the cause and that was the way with every Munster man that day. Their strengths were that they were playing for Munster, that they had a home Thomond Park crowd and they took strength from the fact they were playing one of the best teams in the world.” You could rely on Terry McLean (famed New Zealand journalist) to be fair and sporting in his reaction to the Thomond Park defeat. Unlike Kiernan and Haden, he scorned Jack Gleeson’s “kamikaze” comment, stating that “it was a stern, severe criticism which wanted in fairness on two grounds. It did not sufficiently praise the spirit of Munster or the presence within the one team of 15 men who each emerged from the match much larger than life-size. Secondly, it was disingenuous or, more accurately, naive.” “Gleeson thought it sinful that Ward had not once passed the ball. It was worse, he said, that Munster had made aggressive defence the only arm of their attack. Now, what on earth, it could be asked, was Kiernan to do with his team? He held a fine hand with top trumps in Spring, Cantillon, Foley and Whelan in the forwards and Canniffe, Ward, Dennison, Bowen and Moloney in the backs. Tommy Kiernan wasn’t born yesterday. He played to the strength of his team and upon the suspected weaknesses of the All Blacks.” You could hardly be fairer than that – even if Graham Mourie himself in his 1983 autobiography wasn’t far behind when observing: “Munster were just too good. From the first time Stu Wilson was crashed to the ground as he entered the back line to the last time Mark Donaldson was thrown backwards as he ducked around the side of a maul. They were too good.” One of the nicest tributes of all came from a famous New Zealand photographer, Peter Bush. He covered numerous All Black tours, was close friends with most of their players and a canny one when it came to finding the ideal position from which to snap his pictures. He was the guy perched precariously on the pillars at the entrance to the pitch as the celebrations went on and which he described 20 years later in his book ‘Who Said It’s Only a Game?’And Tom Kiernan and Andy Haden, rugby standard bearers of which their respective countries were justifiably proud, saw things in a similar light.“With that, he flung his arms around me and dragged me with him into the shower. I finally managed to disentangle myself and killed the tape. I didn’t mind really because it had been a wonderful day.” Dimensions :47cm x 57cm“I climbed up on a gate at the end of the game to get this photo and in the middle of it all is Moss Keane, one of the great characters of Irish rugby, with an expression of absolute elation. The All Blacks lost 12-0 to a side that played with as much passion as I have ever seen on a rugby field. The great New Zealand prop Gary Knight said to me later: ‘We could have played them for a fortnight and we still wouldn’t have won’. I was doing a little radio piece after the game and got hold of Moss Keane and said ‘Moss, I wonder if ...’ and he said, ‘ho, ho, we beat you bastards’.
40cm x 34cm LimerickUnfashionably – even eccentrically – bred, and strangely marked, he was a two-year-old of exceptional merit, a champion sire and, despite being sub-fertile and retired early from stud duties, he wielded tremendous influence on the breed. A racehorse of blinding speed, though bred to stay extreme distances. A stallion colossus who proved the cornerstone of an everlasting host of equine celebrities from flying machines to Grand National winners. The supreme nonpareil giant of turf history known as The Tetrarch was truly a freak of nature and, in his esteemed trainer’s words, “there will never be his likes again”.THE TETRARCH
Edward "Cub" KennedyBorn in 1911 on April 22nd at Edward “Cub” Kennedy’s Straffan Station Stud in Kildare, not far from where the present Goffs Sales complex is located. The Tetrarch was born chesnut with black “Bend Or spots” (so called after his Derby winning great-grandsire) which later transformed into his famous grey with splotches of white coat, that saddled him with the nickname “The Rocking Horse”. Every grey horse must have at least one grey parent and The Tetrarch inherited his colour from his sire. A direct line of his grey ancestors can be traced, like all grey thoroughbreds, back to one grey stallion in the original Weatherbys Stud Book named Alcocks Arabian, who was born around the turn of the 18th century and had his origins in Syria. When Cub Kennedy hastily arranged liaison of Roi Herode and Vahren in the late spring of 1910, he had been obsessed with the idea of reviving the apparently moribund male line of Herod. Could there be a more aptly named stallion for the job than Roi Herode? It was already nearly three months into the breeding season when Kennedy purchased his new stallion and he had little chance of attracting many outside mares, but he did have a couple due to foal late himself, one being Vahren. Kennedy decided to send the young Tetrarch to the 1912 Doncaster yearling sales and he knew that for make and shape there would be few to match him. Atty Persse duly had to go to 1,300gns to secure the colt for his patron Dermot McCalmont. When his jockey Steve Donoghue first saw him he described The Tetrarch as “a sort of elephant grey with big blotches, as though someone had splashed him with handfuls of wet lime”. However, once his brilliance on the racecourse became apparent, it wasn’t long before “The Rocking Horse” became “The Spotted Wonder”, a name that one hundred years on still resonates with horse racing aficionados around the world.
THE TETRARCH
The Tetrarch winning the Woodcote Stakes at EpsomAt the age of two The Tetrarch had developed into a magnificent individual and was showing phenomenal speed on the gallops. He made his first public appearance in a novice plate at Newmarket on April 17th 1913 – just five days short of his birthday and blew his twenty rivals away to win “in a canter” by 4 lengths. His second appearance was in the Woodcote Stakes at Epsom, traditionally the first six furlong juvenile race of the season, occurred the day before suffragette Emily Davison was fatally injured in the Derby. The Tetrarch took the race in hand rounding Tattenham Corner and won easily by three lengths, according to the British Bloodstock Review, “It was generally agreed that not since the days of Pretty Polly had a two-year-old accomplished a more impressive performance.” The Coventry Stakes at Royal Ascot was next, then run at five furlongs, and The Tetrarch won pulling up “with his mouth open”, his closest competitor trailed in 10 lengths behind. On July 19th to packed stands, he lined up for Britian’s richest two year old race, the National Breeders’ Produce Stakes (now the National Stakes) at Sandown. This was the only time The Tetrarch came close to defeat, scrambling home by a neck conceding 17 lbs to the runner-up. What onlookers didn’t know, as poor visibility obscured the view from the stands, was that The Tetrarch was severely hindered at the start. This is an account from jockey Steve Donoghue’s biography, “As the tapes went up, The Tetrarch got some of them tangled in his mouth, causing him to rear. On coming down he cannoned against another horse and fell to his knees. Although his plight had seemed hopeless, Steve set off in pursuit. The Tetrarch almost lifted him out of the saddle with his supercharged power as he came nearer and near his rivals with every stride”. Just twelve days later The Tetrarch stepped back up in distance to six furlongs at Glorious Goodwood for the Rous Memorial Stakes where he easily accounted for subsequent 1,000 Guineas and Oaks winner Princess Dorrie (in receipt of 13 lbs). He went on winning, the Champion Breeders Foal Stakes at Derby by four lengths, and what transpired to be his swansong in the Champagne Stakes at Doncaster by three lengths, where The Tetrarch treated Stornoway, his only credible rival for two-year-old honours, with contempt. Stornoway had previously won the Gimcrack and Norfolk (now Flying Childers) Stakes. His season was not meant to end there, but on the day before his intended start in the Imperial Produce Stakes at Kempton he struck into his off-fore fetlock joint, and was retired for the season. Crowned the Champion 2yo of 1913 and rated an unprecedented 10 lbs clear his nearest rival – that season’s Middle Park Stakes winner – The Tetrarch is still considered the greatest juvenile runner of all time. This view is backed by noted turf historians Tony Morris and John Randall, who rated the best juveniles of the 20th century in their book A Century of Champions, and have no doubt about which horse was top. Nearest to The Tetrarch, were Tudor Minstrel and The Tetrarch’s own son Tetratema.
THE TETRARCH
The Tetrarch was retired in 1915 to stand at his specially-built stallion box and covering shed at an initial fee of 300 guineas. However, due to the meditative state he would enter into when presented a mare, his owner eventually described the champion as “monastic in the extreme”. He only got 130 foals altogether, of which 80 were winners, but with such a dearth of opportunity, it is truly remarkable the number of brilliant racehorses The Tetrarch sired. Champion Sire in 1919, with only two crops of racing age, he was third on the list in 1920 and 1923. As might have been expected, a majority of his best progeny were outstanding two-year olds and sprinters such as: Tetratema Champion Sire and Champion Racehorse at 2, 3 & 4 years Winner of 13 races including 2,000 Guineas, Middle Park Stakes, King’s Stand Stakes and July Cup Mumtaz Mahal Champion 2yo Winner of 10 races including the Nunthorpe Stakes, King George Stakes, Champagne Stakes, Queen Mary Stakes and Molecomb Stakes (both by 10 lengths) The Satrap Champion 2yo Winner of 4 races including Chesham Stakes, July Stakes and Richmond Stakes Moti Mahal Champion 2yo Filly Winner of 6 races including the Coronation Stakes Paola Winner of the Cheveley Park Stakes and Coronation Stakes Stefan the Great Champion Broodmare Sire in Great Britain & Ireland Winner of 2 races including the Middle Park Plate
Caligula, the St. Leger winner of 1920The Tetrarch was also capable of siring top class winners over longer distances: Snow Maiden Winner of 6 races including the Irish Oaks and 3rd Irish Derby Caligula Winner of 3 races including the St. Leger, Ascot Derby (now King Edward VII Stakes) and 3rd St James’s Palace Stakes Polemarch A leading sire in Argentina with 6 Classic winners Winner of 5 races including the St. Leger, Gimcrack Stakes and 3rd Middle Park Plate Salmon Trout A leading sire in Brazil Winner of 6 races including St. Leger, Princess of Wales’s Stakes, Dewhurst Stakes and 2nd Gold Cup The Tetrarch was also the sire of : Chief Ruler Twice Champion Sire in New Zealand Tractor A leading sire in New Zealand Arch-Gift Sire of Irish 2,000 Guineas winner Double Arch Ethnarch Sire of the ancestresses of Mill Reef and Blushing Groom
Mumtaz Mahal
Mumtaz MahalThe Tetrarch’s greatest legacy is undoubtedly through his daughter Mumtaz Mahal, purchased as a yearling for 9,100 guineas – the second highest price ever at the time – for the Aga Khan, such was her brilliant speed, she later became known as “The Flying Filly”. A champion 2yo on the track, she was to become one of the most influential broodmares of the 20th century. Her daughter Mumtaz Begum produced champion racehorse Nashrullah, who was a Champion sire in both Europe and the USA. His sons include Never Say Die, Nashua, Bold Ruler, Never Bend, Grey Sovereign and Red God. Her other efforts include champion 2yo filly Dodoma, who became the 4th dam of Shergar and Sun Princess, the dam of influential sire Royal Charger. Another daughter produced Abernant, champion 2yo and the greatest sprinter of modern times. Mumtaz Mahal best son was the Mirza, winner of the July and Coventry Stakes, who was seized by the Germans during invasion of Normandy in 1940, went on to numerous stakes winners including Skylarking ancestress of important sires Rahy, Singspiel and Devil’s Bag. Her other daughters Mah Mahal and Mah Iran, were also hugely influential. Mah Mahal’s son Mahmoud won the 1936 Derby in record time before being exported to America for stallion duties and becoming Champion Sire. His lasting legacy will be as the broodmare sire of Almahmoud – grandam of Northern Dancer. Her other descendants include French Champion Sire Arctic Tern, American Champion Sire Halo – sire of Japanese Champion Sire Sunday Silence, and Champion Australian and European Sire Danehill. Mah Iran was the second best two-year-old filly of 1941 and became the dam of Migoli, winner of the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe, Eclipse Stakes, Champion Stakes, and second in the Derby. Migoli’s full-sister, Star of Iran produced the grey filly Petite Etoile, winner of the 1,000 Guineas, Oaks, Sussex Stakes, Champion Stakes and Coronation Cup. She is the fifth dam of Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe winner Zarkava. Other exceptional racehorses that descend directly from Mumtaz Mahal include Fillies’ Triple Crown winner Oh So Sharp, Champion Sprinter and Champion 3yo Habibti and Australian Champions Octagonal and Danewin.THE TETRARCHTetratema
Tetratema, in his paddock at BallylinchBorn at Ballylinch in 1917, Tetratema was a winner of all his twelve starts over sprint distances but also won the 2,000 Guineas for good measure. After an incredible debut in the National Breeders’ Produce Stakes, he took in the Molecomb Stakes, Champagne Stakes, Imperial Produce Plate and Middle Park Stakes on the way to being crowned Champion 2yo. He began his 3yo career as the first grey to win the 2,000 Guineas since 1838, but failed to stay in both the Derby and Eclipse Stakes. Dropping back to sprint distances he won the (now discontinued) Fern Hill Stakes at Royal Ascot and the King George Stakes at Glorious Goodwood, where he accounted for 1,000 Guineas winner and exceptional sprinter Diadem. As a four year old he won the King’s Stand Stakes at Royal Ascot, before taking the July Cup at Newmarket and repeating his win in the King George Stakes. Tetratema made his swansong in the five furlong Snailwell Stakes at Newmarket before retiring to Ballylinch in 1922 at the same initial fee as his sire, 300 guineas.THE TETRARCH
Mr. JinksIn 1929, he emulated his sire by becoming Champion Sire – the same year his daughter Tiffin became Champion 2yo and his son Mr. Jinks was the highest rated colt. In all, Tetratema was a top 7 sire on 11 occasions. Tiffin Champion 2yo Winner of the Cheveley Park Stakes and July Cup Mr Jinks Champion 2yo Colt Winner of the July Stakes, 2,000 Guineas and St. James’s Palace Stakes Myrobella Champion 2yo Winner of the Champagne Stakes, King George Stakes and July Cup Foray Champion 2yo Winner of the July Stakes, Champagne Stakes and King’s Stand Stakes Fourth Hand Winner of the Windsor Castle Stakes and Irish 2,000 Guineas Royal Minstrel Winner of the St. James’s Palace Stakes, Cork and Orrey (now Diamond Jubilee) Stakes and Eclipse Stakes Four Course Winner of the July Stakes, Richmond Stakes, Gimcrack Stakes and 1,000 Guineas Theft Five time Champion Sire in Japan Winner of the Windsor Castle Stakes and Jersey Stakes
40cm x 34cm July 19, 1972, Muhammad Ali fought Al 'Blue' Lewis at Croke Park in Dublin, causing quite a stir in Ireland.Decades later, an Irish documentary recounting the epic fight not only won awards but also won the approval of Ali's daughter Jamilah Ali. "When Ali Came to Ireland" is an Irish documentary that details Muhammad Ali's trip to Dublin for a fight against Al 'Blue' Lewis at Croke Park. In 2013 the film was screened at the Chicago film festival, where Jamilah Ali was in attendance. TheJournal.ie reported that following the screening, Jamilah said "I've seen so much footage of my father over the years but the amazing thing about watching this film was that I had seen none of the footage of him in Ireland... I loved the film from the beginning to the end." The film highlights a moment in Ali's career where he was set to stage a world comeback. He had been recently released from prison after refusing to join the Vietnam War as a conscientious objector. His opponent Al Lewis had also just been released on parole after serving time in Detroit for a murder charge, and he intended to use his boxing career as "a path to a new life." The movie that won an IFTA in 2013 documents the spectacle in Croke Park, Ali's presence in Ireland and how the public reacted to his being there. It also demonstrates how Ali came to be in Dublin for a fight in the first place, highlighting the involvement of "former Kerry strongman"Michael "Butty" Sugrue. Sugrue's story also proved to be revelatory to his family- in a quote from Ross Whittaker, co-director of the film, he speaks about how Sugrue's grandchildren had never had the chance to meet him. "We were amazed when we screened the film in London to find that Butty Sugrue's granddaughters had never heard their grandfather speak. He had died before they were born and they'd never seen footage of him in which he had spoken." After their 1972 meeting, however, Sugrue and Ali's fortunes took two divergent paths. Ali returned to the ring in America to further glories and fanfare before his retirement, while Sugrue lost a small fortune on the Dublin fight and after dying in London was laid to rest in an unmarked grave in his hometown of Killorglin, Co Kerry. The Louisville Lip was also incredibly proud of his County Clare roots. Today we recall the man's star quality and his Irish ancestry. The death of boxing legend Muhammad Ali at 74 in June 2016, from Parkinson’s, would have brought back many glorious memories of the greatest athlete of our times. At the height of his career, Ali was the most graceful, talented, and brilliant heavyweight boxer who ever stepped inside the ropes. I remember seeing him enter the room at the American Ireland Fund dinner in 2011 and grown men, including the Irish leader Enda Kenny, were simply awestruck that they were in the presence of the greatest living legend. Ali was more than a boxer, of course, he was a fighter who refused to become cannon fodder in the Vietnam War, the greatest mistaken war America entered until the invasion of Iraq. He was also a poet, a showman, a lover of many women, a devout Muslim, and simply a legend. Ali's stance to end the Vietnam War when he refused to be drafted cost us the best years of his sporting life. He came back still a brilliant boxer, but the man who could float like a butterfly could never quite recover that greatness. Still, the fights with Joe Frazier, the rope-a-dope that saw him defeat George Foreman in Zaire in the "Rumble in the Jungle" will forever enshrine his name in history.
40cm x 34cm Hurling (Irish: iománaíocht, iomáint) is an outdoor team game of ancient Gaelic Irish origin, played by men. One of Ireland's native Gaelic games, it shares a number of features with Gaelic football, such as the field and goals, the number of players, and much terminology. There is a similar game for women called camogie (camógaíocht). It shares a common Gaelic root. The objective of the game is for players to use an ash wood stick called a hurley (in Irish a camán, pronounced /ˈkæmən/or /kəˈmɔːn/) to hit a small ball called a sliotar /ˈʃlɪtər/ between the opponents' goalposts either over the crossbar for one point, or under the crossbar into a net guarded by a goalkeeper for three points. The sliotar can be caught in the hand and carried for not more than four steps, struck in the air, or struck on the ground with the hurley. It can be kicked, or slapped with an open hand (the hand pass) for short-range passing. A player who wants to carry the ball for more than four steps has to bounce or balance the sliotar on the end of the stick, and the ball can only be handled twice while in the player’s possession. Provided that a player has at least one foot on the ground, a player may make a shoulder-to-shoulder charge on an opponent who is in possession of the ball or is playing the ball or when both players are moving in the direction of the ball to play it. No protective padding is worn by players. A plastic protective helmet with a faceguard is mandatory for all age groups, including senior level, as of 2010. The game has been described as "a bastion of humility", with player names absent from jerseys and a player's number decided by his position on the field. Hurling is administered by the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA). It is played throughout the world, and is popular among members of the Irish diaspora in North America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Argentina, and South Korea. In many parts of Ireland, however, hurling is a fixture of life.It has featured regularly in art forms such as film, music and literature. The final of the All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship was listed in second place by CNN in its "10 sporting events you have to see live", after the Olympic Games and ahead of both the FIFA World Cup and UEFA European Championship.After covering the 1959 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final between Kilkenny and Waterford for BBC Television, English commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme was moved to describe hurling as his second favourite sport in the world after his first love, football.Alex Ferguson used footage of an All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship final in an attempt to motivate his players during his time as manager of Premier League football club Manchester United; the players winced at the standard of physicality and intensity in which the hurlers were engaged. In 2007, Forbes magazine described the media attention and population multiplication of Thurles town ahead of one of the game's annual provincial hurling finals as being "the rough equivalent of 30 million Americans watching a regional lacrosse game".Financial Times columnist Simon Kuper wrote after Stephen Bennett's performance in the 2020 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final that hurling was "the best sport ever and if the Irish had colonised the world, nobody would ever have heard of football" UNESCO lists hurling as an element of Intangible cultural heritage.
48cm x 35cm
40cm x 34cm July 19, 1972, Muhammad Ali fought Al 'Blue' Lewis at Croke Park in Dublin, causing quite a stir in Ireland.Decades later, an Irish documentary recounting the epic fight not only won awards but also won the approval of Ali's daughter Jamilah Ali. "When Ali Came to Ireland" is an Irish documentary that details Muhammad Ali's trip to Dublin for a fight against Al 'Blue' Lewis at Croke Park. In 2013 the film was screened at the Chicago film festival, where Jamilah Ali was in attendance. TheJournal.ie reported that following the screening, Jamilah said "I've seen so much footage of my father over the years but the amazing thing about watching this film was that I had seen none of the footage of him in Ireland... I loved the film from the beginning to the end." The film highlights a moment in Ali's career where he was set to stage a world comeback. He had been recently released from prison after refusing to join the Vietnam War as a conscientious objector. His opponent Al Lewis had also just been released on parole after serving time in Detroit for a murder charge, and he intended to use his boxing career as "a path to a new life." The movie that won an IFTA in 2013 documents the spectacle in Croke Park, Ali's presence in Ireland and how the public reacted to his being there. It also demonstrates how Ali came to be in Dublin for a fight in the first place, highlighting the involvement of "former Kerry strongman"Michael "Butty" Sugrue. Sugrue's story also proved to be revelatory to his family- in a quote from Ross Whittaker, co-director of the film, he speaks about how Sugrue's grandchildren had never had the chance to meet him. "We were amazed when we screened the film in London to find that Butty Sugrue's granddaughters had never heard their grandfather speak. He had died before they were born and they'd never seen footage of him in which he had spoken." After their 1972 meeting, however, Sugrue and Ali's fortunes took two divergent paths. Ali returned to the ring in America to further glories and fanfare before his retirement, while Sugrue lost a small fortune on the Dublin fight and after dying in London was laid to rest in an unmarked grave in his hometown of Killorglin, Co Kerry. The Louisville Lip was also incredibly proud of his County Clare roots. Today we recall the man's star quality and his Irish ancestry. The death of boxing legend Muhammad Ali at 74 in June 2016, from Parkinson’s, would have brought back many glorious memories of the greatest athlete of our times. At the height of his career, Ali was the most graceful, talented, and brilliant heavyweight boxer who ever stepped inside the ropes. I remember seeing him enter the room at the American Ireland Fund dinner in 2011 and grown men, including the Irish leader Enda Kenny, were simply awestruck that they were in the presence of the greatest living legend. Ali was more than a boxer, of course, he was a fighter who refused to become cannon fodder in the Vietnam War, the greatest mistaken war America entered until the invasion of Iraq. He was also a poet, a showman, a lover of many women, a devout Muslim, and simply a legend. Ali's stance to end the Vietnam War when he refused to be drafted cost us the best years of his sporting life. He came back still a brilliant boxer, but the man who could float like a butterfly could never quite recover that greatness. Still, the fights with Joe Frazier, the rope-a-dope that saw him defeat George Foreman in Zaire in the "Rumble in the Jungle" will forever enshrine his name in history.
47cm x 34cm In the relative cool of the Limerick dressing-room, cramped and pokey as it was beneath the Mackey Stand, Ger Loughnane addressed the victors. It was, the vanquished Clare manager told them, "the kind of game we hear about from our fathers and grandfathers" - adding that in all his time in hurling he had never been involved in anything like it. In the corner was Ciarán Carey, fresh from his wondrous individual point that had decided the game - it still remains one of hurling's greatest scores - parked on a slatted bench, pulling on a cigarette. The protein shakes were still a few years off. Loughnane would go on to savour many more tumultuous, spine-tingling days on the sideline with Clare, some of a higher standard than that particular scorching Sunday afternoon. For all the latest sports news, analysis and updates direct to your inbox, sign up to our newsletter. But that 1996 Munster semi-final was, as Anthony Daly put it in his autobiography many years later, "a day of days" - the most memorable game he had played in. Two things stood out on the way to the Gaelic Grounds that day - the heat and the crowds swarming on the Ennis Road, the tar squelching beneath each and every one. As far as the eye could see down both sides were people walking through a heat haze, so many white shirts peppered between green and saffron and blue. How, you thought, could anyone hurl in the conditions in little over an hour's time?ADVERTISEMENT
58cm x 42cm Quaint vintage poster of a jaunting car carrying a group around Phoenix Park- the giant Wellington monument can be seen in the background. The Wellington Monument or sometimes the Wellington Testimonial,is an obelisk located in the Phoenix Park, Dublin, Ireland. The testimonial is situated at the southeast end of the Park, overlooking Kilmainham and the River Liffey. The structure is 62 metres (203 ft) tall, making it the largest obelisk in Europe
The GAA Allstars Poster from 1997,a year when Kerry reclaimed Sam Maguire and Clare added another All Ireland to that epic 1995 triumph. Ennis Co Clare 58cm x 60cm
Atmospheric photo from 1946 of two of the greatest hurlers in the history of the GAA in its original vintage frame -a veteran Mick Mackey of Limerick and a fresh faced Christy Ring of Cork.The only shame was they never met on the playing field while at the peak of their powers,Mackey being older and in decline when Ring was lording it on the pitch.Although they had their controversial moments together ,there was a massive mutual respect between the two men.this photo was taken after a challenge match between their respective clubs,Mackey's Ahane of Limerick and Ring's Glen Rovers of Cork - it proved to be the last time the two legends met on the field of play. Origins : Co Limerick Dimensions : 31cm x 25cm 1kg
Great picture of a fit looking Arkle being paraded in front of an adoring crowd at a soccer grounds in 1966. His longtime partner Pat Taafe is looking slightly apprehensive while a rather keen"Himself" seems to be inn a hurry to get home.In front of them a Guinness advertising person carries a 'large' bottle of the black stuff for the ubiquitous photo opportunity. Arkle (19 April 1957 – 31 May 1970) was an Irish Thoroughbred racehorse. A bay gelding by Archive out of Bright Cherry, he was the grandson of the unbeaten (in 14 races) flat racehorse and prepotent sire Nearco. Arkle was born at Ballymacoll Stud, County Meath, by Mrs Mary Alison Baker of Malahow House, near Naul, County Dublin. He was named after the mountain Arkle in Sutherland, Scotland that bordered the Duchess of Westminster’s Sutherland estate. Owned by Anne Grosvenor, Duchess of Westminster, he was trained by Tom Dreaper at Greenogue, Kilsallaghan in County Meath, Ireland, and ridden during his steeplechasing career by Pat Taaffe. At 212, his Timeform rating is the highest ever awarded to a steeplechaser. Only Flyingbolt, also trained by Dreaper, had a rating anywhere near his at 210. Next on their ratings are Sprinter Sacre on 192 and then Kauto Star and Mill House on 191. Despite his career being cut short by injury, Arkle won three Cheltenham Gold Cups, the Blue Riband of steeplechasing, and a host of other top prizes. On 19th April, 2014 a magnificent 1.1 scale bronze statue was unveiled in Ashbourne, County Meath in commemoration of Arkle.In the 1964 Cheltenham Gold Cup, Arkle beat Mill House (who had won the race the previous year) by five lengths to claim his first Gold Cup at odds of 7/4. It was the last time he did not start as the favourite for a race. Only two other horses entered the Gold Cup that year. The racing authorities in Ireland took the unprecedented step in the Irish Grand National of devising two weight systems — one to be used when Arkle was running and one when he was not. Arkle won the 1964 race by only one length, but he carried two and half stones more than his rivals. The following year's Gold Cup saw Arkle beat Mill House by twenty lengths at odds of 3/10. In the 1966 renewal, he was the shortest-priced favourite in history to win the Gold Cup, starting at odds of 1/10. He won the race by thirty lengths despite a mistake early in the race where he ploughed through a fence. However, it did not stop his momentum, nor did he ever look like falling. Arkle had a strange quirk in that he crossed his forelegs when jumping a fence. He went through the season 1965/66 unbeaten in five races. Arkle won 27 of his 35 starts and won at distances from 1m 6f up to 3m 5f. Legendary Racing commentator Peter O'Sullevan has called Arkle a freak of nature — something unlikely to be seen again. Besides winning three consecutive Cheltenham Gold Cups (1964, 1965, 1966) and the 1965 King George VI Chase, Arkle triumphed in a number of other important handicap chases, including the 1964 Irish Grand National (under 12-0), the 1964 and 1965 Hennessy Gold Cups (both times under 12-7), the 1965 Gallagher Gold Cup (conceding 16 lb to Mill House while breaking the course record by 17 seconds), and the 1965 Whitbread Gold Cup(under 12-7). In the 1966 Hennessy, he failed by only half a length to give Stalbridge Colonist 35 lb. The scale of the task Arkle faced is shown by the winner coming second and third in the two following Cheltenham Gold Cups, while in third place was the future 1969 Gold Cup winner, What A Myth. In December 1966, Arkle raced in the King George VI Chase at Kempton Park but struck the guard rail with a hoof when jumping the open ditch, which resulted in a fractured pedal bone; despite this injury, he completed the race and finished second. He was in plaster for four months and, though he made a good enough recovery to go back into training, he never ran again. He was retired and ridden as a hack by his owner and then succumbed to what has been variously described as advanced arthritis or possibly brucellosis and was put down at the early age of 13. Arkle became a national legend in Ireland. His strength was jokingly claimed to come from drinking 2 pints of Guinness a day. At one point, the slogan Arkle for President was written on a wall in Dublin. The horse was often referred to simply as "Himself", and he supposedly received items of fan mail addressed to 'Himself, Ireland'. The Irish government-owned Irish National Stud, at Tully, Kildare, Co. Kildare, Ireland, has the skeleton of Arkle on display in its museum. A statue in his memory was erected in Ashbourne Co Meath in 2004. Dimensions : 55cm x 60cm
Superb Smithwicks sponsored team photograph of the 1981 All Ireland Hurling Champions -Offaly.The authenticity of this print and its worn appearance makes for an excellent addition to any GAA wall collection. 32cm x 47cm. Birr Co Offaly The 1981 All Ireland Hurling Final was the 94th All-Ireland Final and the culmination of the 1981 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship, an inter-county hurling tournament for the top teams in Ireland. The match was held at Croke Park, Dublin, on 6 September 1981, between Galway and Offaly. The reigning champions lost to their Leinster opponents, who won their first ever senior hurling title, on a score line of 2-12 to 0-15. Johnny Flaherty scored a handpassed goal in this game; this was before the handpassed goal was ruled out of the game as hurling's technical standards improved.
Superb print of the 1908 Clare Hurling Team who won the Croke Cup. Origins : Ennistymon Co Clare Dimensions: 33cm x 40cm. Glazed
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978.This is a great photo taken during the legendary celebrations which took place after that epic victory .Taken around a piano in the famous Ted's Bar & Nightclub in O'Connell St Limerick,it features Greg Barrett on the keyboard while Brendan Foley(father of the late, much lamented Anthony ),Colm Tucker & Tony Ward join in the sing song. 30cm x 39cm Limerick City There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978. There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish. Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
Many years on, Stuart Wilson vividly recalled the Dennison tackles and spoke about them in remarkable detail and with commendable honesty: “The move involved me coming in from the blind side wing and it had been working very well on tour. It was a workable move and it was paying off so we just kept rolling it out. Against Munster, the gap opened up brilliantly as it was supposed to except that there was this little guy called Seamus Dennison sitting there in front of me.
“He just basically smacked the living daylights out of me. I dusted myself off and thought, I don’t want to have to do that again. Ten minutes later, we called the same move again thinking we’d change it slightly but, no, it didn’t work and I got hammered again.”
The game was 11 minutes old when the most famous try in the history of Munster rugby was scored.
Tom Kiernan recalled: “It came from a great piece of anticipation by Bowen who in the first place had to run around his man to get to Ward’s kick ahead. He then beat two men and when finally tackled, managed to keep his balance and deliver the ball to Cantillon who went on to score. All of this was evidence of sharpness on Bowen’s part.”
Very soon it would be 9-0. In the first five minutes, a towering garryowen by skipper Canniffe had exposed the vulnerability of the New Zealand rearguard under the high ball. They were to be examined once or twice more but it was from a long range but badly struck penalty attempt by Ward that full-back Brian McKechnie knocked on some 15 yards from his line and close to where Cantillon had touched down a few minutes earlier. You could sense White, Whelan, McLoughlin and co in the front five of the Munster scrum smacking their lips as they settled for the scrum. A quick, straight put-in by Canniffe, a well controlled heel, a smart pass by the scrum-half to Ward and the inevitability of a drop goal. And that’s exactly what happened.
The All Blacks enjoyed the majority of forward possession but the harder they tried, the more they fell into the trap set by the wily Kiernan and so brilliantly carried out by every member of the Munster team.
The tourists might have edged the line-out contest through Andy Haden and Frank Oliver but scrum-half Mark Donaldson endured a miserable afternoon as the Munster forwards poured through and buried him in the Thomond Park turf.
As the minutes passed and the All Blacks became more and more unsure as to what to try next, the Thomond Park hordes chanted “Munster-Munster–Munster” to an ever increasing crescendo until with 12 minutes to go, the noise levels reached deafening proportions.
And then ... a deep, probing kick by Ward put Wilson under further pressure. Eventually, he stumbled over the ball as it crossed the line and nervously conceded a five-metre scrum. The Munster heel was disrupted but the ruck was won, Tucker gained possession and slipped a lovely little pass to Ward whose gifted feet and speed of thought enabled him in a twinkle to drop a goal although surrounded by a swarm of black jerseys. So the game entered its final 10 minutes with the All Blacks needing three scores to win and, of course, that was never going to happen.
Munster knew this, so, too, did the All Blacks. Stu Wilson admitted as much as he explained his part in Wardy’s second drop goal: “Tony Ward banged it down, it bounced a little bit, jigged here, jigged there, and I stumbled, fell over, and all of a sudden the heat was on me. They were good chasers. A kick is a kick — but if you have lots of good chasers on it, they make bad kicks look good. I looked up and realised — I’m not going to run out of here so I just dotted it down. I wasn’t going to run that ball back out at them because five of those mad guys were coming down the track at me and I’m thinking, I’m being hit by these guys all day and I’m looking after my body, thank you. Of course it was a five-yard scrum and Ward banged over another drop goal. That was it, there was the game”.
The final whistle duly sounded with Munster 12 points ahead but the heroes of the hour still had to get off the field and reach the safety of the dressing room. Bodies were embraced, faces were kissed, backs were pummelled, you name it, the gauntlet had to be walked. Even the All Blacks seemed impressed with the sense of joy being released all about them. Andy Haden recalled “the sea of red supporters all over the pitch after the game, you could hardly get off for the wave of celebration that was going on. The whole of Thomond Park glowed in the warmth that someone had put one over on the Blacks.”
Controversially, the All Blacks coach, Jack Gleeson (usually a man capable of accepting the good with the bad and who passed away of cancer within 12 months of the tour), in an unguarded (although possibly misunderstood) moment on the following day, let slip his innermost thoughts on the game.
“We were up against a team of kamikaze tacklers,” he lamented. “We set out on this tour to play 15-man rugby but if teams were to adopt the Munster approach and do all they could to stop the All Blacks from playing an attacking game, then the tour and the game would suffer.”
It was interpreted by the majority of observers as a rare piece of sour grapes from a group who had accepted the defeat in good spirit and it certainly did nothing to diminish Munster respect for the All Blacks and their proud rugby tradition.
“Jack’s comment was made in the context of the game and meant as a compliment,” Haden maintained. “Indeed, it was probably a little suggestion to his own side that perhaps we should imitate their efforts and emulate them in that department.” Tom Kiernan went along with this line of thought: “I thought he was actually paying a compliment to the Munster spirit. Kamikaze pilots were very brave men. That’s what I took out of that. I didn’t think it was a criticism of Munster.” And Stuart Wilson? “It was meant purely as a compliment. We had been travelling through the UK and winning all our games. We were playing a nice, open style. But we had never met a team that could get up in our faces and tackle us off the field. Every time you got the ball, you didn’t get one player tackling you, you got four. Kamikaze means people are willing to die for the cause and that was the way with every Munster man that day. Their strengths were that they were playing for Munster, that they had a home Thomond Park crowd and they took strength from the fact they were playing one of the best teams in the world.” You could rely on Terry McLean (famed New Zealand journalist) to be fair and sporting in his reaction to the Thomond Park defeat. Unlike Kiernan and Haden, he scorned Jack Gleeson’s “kamikaze” comment, stating that “it was a stern, severe criticism which wanted in fairness on two grounds. It did not sufficiently praise the spirit of Munster or the presence within the one team of 15 men who each emerged from the match much larger than life-size. Secondly, it was disingenuous or, more accurately, naive.” “Gleeson thought it sinful that Ward had not once passed the ball. It was worse, he said, that Munster had made aggressive defence the only arm of their attack. Now, what on earth, it could be asked, was Kiernan to do with his team? He held a fine hand with top trumps in Spring, Cantillon, Foley and Whelan in the forwards and Canniffe, Ward, Dennison, Bowen and Moloney in the backs. Tommy Kiernan wasn’t born yesterday. He played to the strength of his team and upon the suspected weaknesses of the All Blacks.” You could hardly be fairer than that – even if Graham Mourie himself in his 1983 autobiography wasn’t far behind when observing: “Munster were just too good. From the first time Stu Wilson was crashed to the ground as he entered the back line to the last time Mark Donaldson was thrown backwards as he ducked around the side of a maul. They were too good.” One of the nicest tributes of all came from a famous New Zealand photographer, Peter Bush. He covered numerous All Black tours, was close friends with most of their players and a canny one when it came to finding the ideal position from which to snap his pictures. He was the guy perched precariously on the pillars at the entrance to the pitch as the celebrations went on and which he described 20 years later in his book ‘Who Said It’s Only a Game?’And Tom Kiernan and Andy Haden, rugby standard bearers of which their respective countries were justifiably proud, saw things in a similar light.“With that, he flung his arms around me and dragged me with him into the shower. I finally managed to disentangle myself and killed the tape. I didn’t mind really because it had been a wonderful day.” Dimensions :47cm x 57cm“I climbed up on a gate at the end of the game to get this photo and in the middle of it all is Moss Keane, one of the great characters of Irish rugby, with an expression of absolute elation. The All Blacks lost 12-0 to a side that played with as much passion as I have ever seen on a rugby field. The great New Zealand prop Gary Knight said to me later: ‘We could have played them for a fortnight and we still wouldn’t have won’. I was doing a little radio piece after the game and got hold of Moss Keane and said ‘Moss, I wonder if ...’ and he said, ‘ho, ho, we beat you bastards’.
Framed 1964 Listowel Races Advert 28cm x 23cm Ballylongford Co Kerry The great John B Keane once said: "The Listowel Races is a state of mind." Anyone who has attended the festival will know this statement to be an undeniable truth. Because for one divine week in September, a spotlight from the gods shines on Listowel. It is a shimmering star, guiding people from all over the country for a week of devilment and roguery - a place where hatred dissolves and inhibitions release. And for as long as I can remember, I too have been steered by that very light. For a time, I thought I could never love a man the way I loved the Listowel Races. Unlike romantic relationships, I knew where I stood in the affair. There were no miscommunications or missteps. I asked for the thrill, the passion and the romance, and all the races asked of me was the entrance fee.Even as a child, I worshipped it. From the moment the festival lights were hung above Church Street, I knew magic was in the air. Any pocket money I had was spent at the Birds Amusements in the mart yard and any tears I had shed, as my mother told me, came when it was time to go home. As I grew older, I discovered another type of magic on the racecourse or 'the island' as it's otherwise known. It is a paradise on the River Feale filled with old friends, new acquaintances and disgruntled punters. Expats return from far-flung countries and wish for the week to never end, wanting one last race, drink or dance because one September evening spent on the island equals a lifetime of memories. This year will mark the 162nd anniversary of the meeting. The first took place in October 1858 and, since then, has moved from a two-day race meeting to a seven-day spectacle filled with music and wren boys. Also known as the Harvest Festival, the meeting traditionally marked the end of the harvest, and farmers came to relax and enjoy the fruits of their labour. While this remains true, Listowel now attracts a variety of attendees from across the country and beyond. The people don't just come for racing anymore. They come for the atmosphere, the people, and the promise of the time of your life. Festivals like Galway and Punchestown may have the hype, but Listowel has the mightiest heart. In 162 years, the island and its high jinks have survived war and politics, but it won't escape the ravages of 2020. Covid-19 restrictions mean the Listowel Races will take place behind closed doors for the first time. Under protocol from the HRI and the Irish Horseracing Regulatory Board, race meetings are closed to the public. Much-needed boostFamous son: The late playwright John B Keane in his Listowel pub
For Listowel, the impact will be huge. The town is small, with a population of 4,800 people. In 2018, attendance at the festival hit 90,000 for the week.'Huge loss': Jerry Behan from the Horseshoe Bar
North Kerry doesn't reap the benefits of tourism as much as the southern half of the county. Killarney and Dingle are hotspots and while north Kerry has its share, tourism is not its main trade. Festivals such as the races provide much-needed boosts to the local economy. It has been a challenging year for the small-town festival in Ireland. From the Willie Clancy week in Miltown Malbay to the Innishannon Steam Rally in Cork, localities have lost out economically and culturally. Earlier in the summer, the famous Writers' Week Festival in Listowel was cancelled, as was the Revival Music Festival in August. The September races complete the trifecta of festivities and are the jewel in the crown. These cancellations only added to the blow caused by the lockdown closures in March for the businesses in the town. Jerry Behan and his son Diarmuid, owner and bar manager of the Horseshoe Bar and Restaurant on William Street, say the trade during the races tides the pubs and restaurants over until year-end. "This year is just a complete unknown," Jerry says. "We missed out on Mother's Day, Paddy's Day, Easter, Writers' Week, Revival and now the races. Writers' Week is nearly as big as the races for us, so it's been a huge loss. And what you make during the races would pay the bills until Christmas." In a typical year, the week before the festival would be spent planning and preparing for the influx of punters; Diarmuid admits this is a part he will miss. "During this time, we would be looking forward to race week," he explains. "You would be getting in your orders and sorting out staff for the week. It all adds to the build-up. Usually, you would hate to be working during a big event, but I never mind working for the races. "The craic is brilliant. But at the end of the day, our health is the most important thing." The Government has given the green light for 'wet pubs' to reopen on Monday after a six-month closure. Reopening on the week of the races is both a blessing and a hindrance to Billy Keane, the Irish Independent columnist and owner of John B Keane's bar, first run by his playwright father. "The worst was not knowing when we would open, so when the news came that it would be the 21st, on what happens to be the week of the Listowel Races, it was brilliant news," Keane says. "So everyone in town got a great boost from it and hopefully the locals will come out and I can't wait to meet them again, but it's going to be very restricted. During the races, if I had a pub that went all the way to Ballybunion, I'd still need more space. "The week equates to around 22pc of my business for the year, but obviously, our numbers will be way down." The change in proceedings isn't just hitting the pubs and restaurants; many other businesses feel the effects. Owner of Coco at The Arcade boutique, Jennifer Scanlan, says fashion is just as big a part of the experience as the racing itself, with Ladies' Day usually attracting a crowd of more than 26,000. "For me, the week before and especially the Saturday before the races are usually manic busy with women buying their bits. So I will certainly be losing that revenue." If you don't come from a town or area that holds a festival like this, you might question why locals are so attached. It has such significance that anyone from the town will tell you that a different calendar dictates life. There are no weeks or months, only 'before' and 'after' the races. People in Listowel have grown up with it. It is steeped in tradition and for rural towns, this is important. 'It defines us' Scanlan admits it is hard to think that this year will go ahead without the full flow of the festival. "I grew up over the shop here in the centre of town and I could see the Birds Amusements right from my window. The races could never hide from us. "It defines us as Listowel people. There really is something special here." Someone who shares this sentiment is horse racing commentator Jerry Hannon, a native Listowel man who discovered his love for the sport on the Island. "That's where I got my love for racing," he explains. "One of my earliest memories was my late dad Joe bringing me over to the island and meeting Charlie Swan, who was top jockey at the time, and the late racing photographer Liam Healy taking a photo of me with him. I saw the crowds and the atmosphere and that whet my appetite. It's like a ritual for those of us from the town." Hannon will commentate on the racing over the seven days, but admits that it is at the festivals when you notice the missing crowds. "It's been disheartening," he explains. "It hit me in places like Killarney and Galway. Now Listowel will be the same when you won't see those crowds crossing the bridge from the town side." Christy Walsh, owner of Christy's Bar in The Square, says the races' influence is far-reaching. "When I became involved in the Harvest Festival, I not only realised what it means for the town, but the whole of north Kerry and beyond. Accommodation is usually booked from Templeglantine, Newcastle West, Abbeyfeale and down into Tralee. Ballybunion and Ballyheigue, both of which are packed from it." Walsh says the town is exercising extreme caution for the week ahead, with people expected to watch the racing in local pubs. "We are still in the throes of a major pandemic," he says. "So just for one year, maybe leave it to the locals and enjoy the races on TG4 at home and wait until we are back in action fully." Because the town is small, community spirit is present even when thousands of people gather there. This quality is why people return year on year and proprietors of the town have come to know the spectators as friends. They look forward to seeing them return in the future. "You know on the Monday exactly who you'd meet inside the pub," Walsh says. "They come back year after year and you'd be asking how in the name of God could they do seven days racing. But they do, and most of my enjoyment comes from meeting them. I'll really miss that." This warmth is something Jerry Behan says will forever make the Listowel Races special. "They are like locals," he says. "They walk in as if they've lived here forever. We have a crowd from Newcastle that comes over every year since we opened and on the Sunday when they leave, the hugging and kissing is something else. They always say we can't wait for next year already. Hopefully, we will have it again when everything settles. The town will get through this and it will be back." And so tomorrow for its 162nd year, the island gates will open, the horses will gallop and bets will be made, but the stands will stay silent for the first time. Yet over the bridge on the other side of the River Feale, a town and its people look ahead to better times, remaining forever hopeful for a winner and waiting once more to be back in a Listowel Races state of mind.
26cm x 33cm Not so much the clash of the ash as the bend of the ash in this unbelievable action photograph as Clare and Limerick Hurlers do battle in a challenge game in Sixmilebridge.The art of Hurley making & the raw materials used have not changed a lot since time immemorial as this article demonstrates ; Cad a dhéanfaimid feasta gan adhmaid, tá deireadh na gcoillte ar lár…” seems an appropriate opening to an article about hurley making, as we speak to Pat Cronin in his workshop overlooking the Comeragh Mountains in Kilcash, Tipperary. “Over 90% of the timber used in hurley-making now is foreign. Irish ash is very scarce, although Coillte are working to change this”, explained Pat. “I get most of my timber from Coillte in Dundrum (Tipperary). This comes from Denmark and Sweden”. Although some makers have produced hurleys from 14 year old ash Pat believes this is too soon. “You might only get two or three slabs out of a tree that young. If you left it another five or more years you’d get more than double that. It’d really take up to 25 years to get a decent return.” Pat’s uncle, Larry Welsh, made hurleys, but Pat didn’t realise this when he started out. “John Joe O’Brien in Cahir taught me. I used to call to him to get a few now and then and it went from there. I started about 25 years ago and gave up working with Eircom to go at it full time five years ago. I’m kept busy throughout the year.” Brian Dowling’s “Star Hurleys” workshop is in the heart of Kilkenny. Despite the fact that his son Mark is also in the business they’re under constant pressure to meet demand. Brian, who served his time to become a carpenter, has been making hurleys since 1980. His father Ramie was a well known maker, who started in the early 1960’s with Brian’s grandfather Tom Neary. It probably takes about thirty minutes to make a hurley, if you were to go at it from start to finish. However, neither Pat nor Brian make them in this way. Both use copying machines to rough cut “slabs” three or four at a time. Each then finishes the hurleys by hand, to meet specific requirements. “You get phases of popularity in styles”, explained Pat Cronin, “Because of the O’Connor’s of Cork for instance, big bosses are in favour now. But there’s also a trend towards shorter and lighter sticks. There’s a risk if the hurley is too light it’ll snap more easily. And you don’t get the same distance on a puck out.” Brian, recently in Italy looking at a replacement for his aging copying machine, only cuts 33 inch sticks and bigger this way. “I do the smaller ones entirely by hand”. The style of hurling has changed over the years and naturally the hurley changes to reflect this. “Demands for particular styles naturally reflect the styles of the successful teams of the time”. Certainly the demand for personalised sticks has grown. Brian, who supplies most of the Kilkenny senior team, explains that most of them have specific demands. Every hurley maker will advise you differently about how best to look after your stick! wever, you need good quality timber to start with. Pat Cronin suggests that when you get your new hurley you should put it away for a while. “Some people hang them, rather than prop them against a wall, so they won’t warp. There are those who put them in water until they get the right weight. Then they’ll varnish or linseed oil them to keep them at that weight. Like a good wine it should also be stored somewhere cool! You definitely shouldn’t keep them in the kitchen or in the boot of your car, or they will dry out.” Brian suggests that it’s better to buy the stick unbanded. “You need to allow a bit of time for timber to settle. You might also put five or six coats of linseed oil on, or even drop them into a barrel of linseed oil for a while, to get more penetration. You have to remember that this will add weight ‘though. But whether you oil them or not, you should leave them for a good week or so before banding them. And don’t keep them in the house!” There is a Hurley Makers Guild, which was formed almost ten years ago when ash became scarce. Makers felt the need to organise themselves to address the problem. There are about fifty active members these days. Both Pat Cronin and Brian Dowling are curious to see how Jack Carey – brother of the illustrious DJ – gets on with his plan to import finished hurleys from Eastern Europe. This could have quite an impact on what might be regarded as a quintessentially Irish cottage industry. However, time will tell. Just to set up a workshop and kit it out here in Ireland would probably cost about half a million Euro, according to both Pat and Brian. Not a cheap business to get into! Little wonder the notion of foreign manufactured hurleys doesn’t seem that strange… Two great Craftsmen, continuing the wonderful tradition of hurley-making.
38cm x 33cm This time a colour version of the iconic photograph taken by Justin Nelson.The following explanation of the actual verbal exchange between the two legends comes from Michael Moynihan of the Examiner newspaper. "When Christy Ring left the field of play injured in the 1957 Munster championship game between Cork and Waterford at Limerick, he strolled behind the goal, where he passed Mick Mackey, who was acting as umpire for the game. The two exchanged a few words as Ring made his way to the dressing-room.It was an encounter that would have been long forgotten if not for the photograph snapped at precisely the moment the two men met. The picture freezes the moment forever: Mackey, though long retired, still vigorous, still dark haired, somehow incongruous in his umpire’s white coat, clearly hopping a ball; Ring at his fighting weight, his right wrist strapped, caught in the typical pose of a man fielding a remark coming over his shoulder and returning it with interest. Two hurling eras intersect in the two men’s encounter: Limerick’s glory of the 30s, and Ring’s dominance of two subsequent decades.But nobody recorded what was said, and the mystery has echoed down the decades.But Dan Barrett has the answer.He forged a friendship with Ring from the usual raw materials. They had girls the same age, they both worked for oil companies, they didn’t live that far away from each other. And they had hurling in common.We often chatted away at home about hurling,” says Barrett. “In general he wouldn’t criticise players, although he did say about one player for Cork, ‘if you put a whistle on the ball he might hear it’.” Barrett saw Ring’s awareness of his whereabouts at first hand; even in the heat of a game he was conscious of every factor in his surroundings. “We went up to see him one time in Thurles,” says Barrett. “Don’t forget, people would come from all over the country to see a game just for Ring, and the place was packed to the rafters – all along the sideline people were spilling in on the field. “He came out to take a sideline cut at one stage and we were all roaring at him – ‘Go on Ring’, the usual – and he looked up into the crowd, the blue eyes, and he looked right at me. “The following day in work he called in and we were having a chat, and I said ‘if you caught that sideline yesterday, you’d have driven it up to the Devil’s Bit.’ “There was another chap there who said about me, ‘With all his talk he probably wasn’t there at all’. ‘He was there alright,’ said Ring. ‘He was over in the corner of the stand’. He picked me out in the crowd.” “He told me there was no way he’d come on the team as a sub. I remember then when Cork beat Tipperary in the Munster championship for the first time in a long time, there was a helicopter landed near the ground, the Cork crowd were saying ‘here’s Ring’ to rise the Tipp crowd. “I saw his last goal, for the Glen against Blackrock. He collided with a Blackrock man and he took his shot, it wasn’t a hard one, but the keeper put his hurley down and it hopped over his stick.” There were tough days against Tipperary – Ring took off his shirt one Monday to show his friends the bruising across his back from one Tipp defender who had a special knack of letting the Corkman out ahead in order to punish him with his stick. But Ring added that when a disagreement at a Railway Cup game with Leinster became physical, all of Tipperary piled in to back him up. One evening the talk turned to the photograph. Barrett packed the audience – “I had my wife there as a witness,” – and asked Ring the burning question: what had Mackey said to him? “’You didn’t get half enough of it’, said Mackey. ‘I’d expect nothing different from you,’ said Ring. “That was what was said.” You might argue – with some credibility – that learning what was said by the two men removes some of the force of the photograph; that if you remained in ignorance you’d be free to project your own hypothetical dialogue on the freeze-frame meeting of the two men. But nothing trumps actuality. The exchange carries a double authenticity: the pungency of slagging from one corner and the weariness of riposte from the other. Dan Barrett just wanted to set the record straight. “I’d heard people say ‘it will never be known’ and so on,” he says.“I thought it was no harm to let people know.” No harm at all" Origins ; Co Limerick Dimensions : 31cm x 25cm 1kgBorn in Castleconnell, County Limerick,Mick Mackey first arrived on the inter-county scene at the age of seventeen when he first linked up with the Limerick minor team, before later lining out with the junior side. He made his senior debut in the 1930–31 National League. Mackey went on to play a key part for Limerick during a golden age for the team, and won three All-Ireland medals, five Munster medals and five National Hurling League medals. An All-Ireland runner-up on two occasions, Mackey also captained the team to two All-Ireland victories. His brother, John Mackey, also shared in these victories while his father, "Tyler" Mackey was a one-time All-Ireland runner-up with Limerick. Mackey represented the Munster inter-provincial team for twelve years, winning eight Railway Cup medals during that period. At club level he won fifteen championship medals with Ahane. Throughout his inter-county career, Mackey made 42 championship appearances for Limerick. His retirement came following the conclusion of the 1947 championship. In retirement from playing, Mackey became involved in team management and coaching. As trainer of the Limerick senior team in 1955, he guided them to Munster victory. He also served as a selector on various occasions with both Limerick and Munster. Mackey also served as a referee. Mackey is widely regarded as one of the greatest hurlers in the history of the game. He was the inaugural recipient of the All-Time All-Star Award. He has been repeatedly voted onto teams made up of the sport's greats, including at centre-forward on the Hurling Team of the Centuryin 1984 and the Hurling Team of the Millennium in 2000. Origins : Co Limerick Dimensions : 28cm x 37cm 1kg
238cm x 33cm Bruff Co Limerick Absolutely incredible shot of a Clare hurler breaking his ash Hurley over the forearm of teak tough Limerick corner back Steve McDonagh during a National Hurling League game in 1997.
Superb Guinness advert publicising their sponsorship of the All Ireland Senior Hurling Championship-unframed print. 44cm x 60cm Guinness were long time sponsors of the All Ireland Senior Hurling Championship.Hurling is an ancient sport ,played for over 2000 years by such mythical Irish legends such as Setanta, who is depicted here in this distinctive Guinness advert fighting off a fierce wolf, armed with just a Hurl and a sliotar! Following on the company’s imaginative marketing and advertising campaigns — with such slogans as ‘Not Men But Giants,’ ‘Nobody Said It Was Going To Be Easy’ and ‘The Stuff of Legend’ — other imaginative adverts brought the message that hurling is part of the Irish DNA. Other campaigns, entitled ‘It’s Alive Inside’ focused on how hurling is an integral part of Irish life and how the love of hurling is alive inside every hurling player and fan.
Boher Co Limerick 35cm x 48cm The 1994 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final was the 107th All-Ireland Final and the culmination of the 1994 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship. The match was held at Croke Park, Dublin, on 4 September 1994, between Offaly and Limerick. The Munster champions lost to their Leinster opponents on a score line of 3-16 to 2-13. The match is known as 'the five-minute final' due to the sensational comeback by Offaly who scored 2-5 to win the game in the last five minutes. With five minutes of normal time remaining, Limerick were leading by 2-13 to 1-11 and looked to be heading to their first title in 21 years when Offaly were awarded a free 20 metres from the goal. Limerick goalkeeper Joe Quaid later admitted that he was to blame for the resultant goal in that he didn't organise his defence well enough to stop a low-struck free from Johnny Dooley.[3] Quaid was erroneously blamed for Offaly's second goal after what was described as a quick and errant puck-out leading to Pat O'Connor putting Offaly a point ahead with a low shot to the net. Quaid later described the puck-out: "I didn’t rush back to the goals. I went back and picked up the ball, walked behind the goals like I normally would. Hegarty was out in the middle of the field on his own. I dropped the ball into his hand 70 yards out from goal. He caught the ball and in contact the ball squirted out of his hands." Because the television coverage was still showing a replay of the first goal, very few people got to see the build up to the second and when live transmission was resumed, the sliotar was still dropping towards Pat O'Connor leading people to assume that Quaid rushed his puck-out.Limerick went on to lose the game by 3-16 to 2-13.
30cm x 36cm Limerick
Seán Keating (born John Keating, Limerick, 28 September 1889 – Dublin, 21 December 1977) was an Irish romantic-realist painter who painted some iconic images of the Irish War of Independence and of the early industrialization of Ireland. He spent two weeks or so each year during the late summer on the Aran Islands and his many portraits of island people depicted them as rugged heroic figures. However, he ceased to visit the Aran Islands in 1965.Seán Keating studied drawing at the Limerick Technical School before a scholarship arranged by William Orpen allowed him to go at the age of twenty to study at the Metropolitan School of Art in Dublin. Over the next few years, he spent time on the Aran Islands. In 1914 Keating won the RDS Taylor award with a painting titled The Reconciliation. The prize included £50 which allowed him to go to London to work as Orpen's studio assistant in 1915. In late 1915 or early 1916, he returned to Ireland where he documented the War of Independence and the subsequent Civil War. Examples include Men of the South (1921–22) which shows a group of IRA men ready to ambush a military vehicle and An Allegory (first exhibited in 1924), in which the two opposing sides in the Irish Civil War are seen to bury a tricolour-covered coffin amid the roots on an ancient tree. The painting includes a self-portrait of the artist.
Men of the South, 1921–22, Crawford Art Gallery, Cork.Keating was elected an Associate of the Royal Hibernian Academy (RHA) in 1918, and a full member in 1923. One of the cardinal achievements of the Irish Free State in the 1920s was the building, in partnership with Siemens, of a hydro-electric power generator at Ardnacrusha, near Limerick. Between 1926 and 1927 Keating, at his own initiative, produced a considerable number of paintings related to this scheme. He exhibited several examples of the paintings in the RHA exhibitions in 1927 and 1928. Most are now in the collection of ESB Group. His work was also part of the art competitions at the 1924 Summer Olympics and the 1928 Summer Olympics. In 1936 a group of prominent Limerick politicians, artists and patrons established the first Limerick City Collection of Art, made up of various donations and bequests. Keating was part of this artist-led initiative to form a municipal art gallery in Limerick similar to those already in Dublin and Cork. As a pivotal member of the committee, Keating himself donated many works to the collection which was first exhibited in the Savoy Cinema, Limerick City, on 23 November 1937. It was not until 1948, however, that an extension to the rear of Limerick Free Library and Museum became the permanent home to the City Collection, acquiring the name of the Limerick Free Art Gallery. In 1985 the Library and Museum were transferred to larger buildings. In 1939 Keating was commissioned to paint a mural for the Irish pavilion at the New York World's Fair. He was President of the Royal Hibernian Academy from 1950 to 1962, and showed at the annual exhibition for 61 years from 1914 onwards. Keating was an intellectual painter in the sense that he consciously set out to explore the visual identity of the Irish nation, and his paintings show a very idealised realism. He feared that the modern movement would lead to a decline in artistic standards. Throughout his career, he exhibited nearly 300 works at the RHA, and also showed at the Oireachtas. Keating married political campaigner, May Walsh, in 1919. She was a frequent model for his paintings until her death in 1965. He died on 21 December 1977 at the Adelaide Hospital and was buried at Cruagh Cemetery, Rathfarnham. The 1978 RHA Exhibition featured a small memorial collection of his work. Posthumous exhibitions of his paintings were held by The Grafton Gallery, Dublin (1986) and the Electricity Supply Board (1987). Sean Keating – The Pilgrim Soul, a documentary presented and written by his son, the politician Justin Keating, aired on RTÉ in 1996.
An Allegory, 1924, National Gallery of Ireland.
Atmospheric photograph of the Lansdowne Rugby Club's 3rd XV taken with the enormous old West Stand of Lansdowne Road in the background.It is estimated that half of this team were killed during the carnage of World War I just a few short years later-with surnames such as Gilligan,Beatty,O'Beirne,Nevin,Flavelle and Sadleir to be included on the sad Roll of Honour. 39cm x 45cm Ballsbridge Dublin
Beautifully atmospheric lithograph of the pre match parade by the Cork and Dublin Hurlers in 1952.This lithograph was sponsored by the National Flour Mills Co.Ltd. 42cm x 46cm Douglas Cork
Brilliant print capturing some of Micheal "Ó'Muircheartaigh's most famous moments of commentary over the decades.Superb piece for the GAA enthusiast and celebrating one of our greatest ever broadcasters. Origins : Banagher Co Offaly Dimensions: 52cm x 40cm Micheal Ó Muircheartaigh (born 20 August 1930)[1] is an Irish Gaelic games commentator for the Irish national radio and television, RTÉ. In a career that has spanned six decades he has come to be regarded as the "voice of Gaelic games." His prolific career has earned him a place in Guinness World Records.
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978. 33cm x 30cm Dromkeen Co Limerick In this image from the Limerick Leader, in the days when a line out was a lottery ,we see an unidentified New Zealand player with the ball in his hands while Moss Keane,Brendan Foley,Pat Whelan & Ginger McLoughlin look on in semi amazement ! There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978. There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish. Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978. 23cm x 31cm Dromkeen Co Limerick In this image from the Limerick Leader,we see the traditional haka as performed by the visiting All Blacks Team in 1978. There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978. There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish. Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
Great picture of a recuperating Arkle getting his lunch washed down by a bottle of Guinness by his head lad Paddy Murray. Ratoath Co Meath. 50cm x 40cm Arkle (19 April 1957 – 31 May 1970) was an Irish Thoroughbred racehorse. A bay gelding by Archive out of Bright Cherry, he was the grandson of the unbeaten (in 14 races) flat racehorse and prepotent sire Nearco. Arkle was born at Ballymacoll Stud, County Meath, by Mrs Mary Alison Baker of Malahow House, near Naul, County Dublin. He was named after the mountain Arkle in Sutherland, Scotland that bordered the Duchess of Westminster’s Sutherland estate. Owned by Anne Grosvenor, Duchess of Westminster, he was trained by Tom Dreaper at Greenogue, Kilsallaghan in County Meath, Ireland, and ridden during his steeplechasing career by Pat Taaffe. At 212, his Timeform rating is the highest ever awarded to a steeplechaser. Only Flyingbolt, also trained by Dreaper, had a rating anywhere near his at 210. Next on their ratings are Sprinter Sacre on 192 and then Kauto Star and Mill House on 191. Despite his career being cut short by injury, Arkle won three Cheltenham Gold Cups, the Blue Riband of steeplechasing, and a host of other top prizes. On 19th April, 2014 a magnificent 1.1 scale bronze statue was unveiled in Ashbourne, County Meath in commemoration of Arkle.In the 1964 Cheltenham Gold Cup, Arkle beat Mill House (who had won the race the previous year) by five lengths to claim his first Gold Cup at odds of 7/4. It was the last time he did not start as the favourite for a race. Only two other horses entered the Gold Cup that year. The racing authorities in Ireland took the unprecedented step in the Irish Grand National of devising two weight systems — one to be used when Arkle was running and one when he was not. Arkle won the 1964 race by only one length, but he carried two and half stones more than his rivals. The following year's Gold Cup saw Arkle beat Mill House by twenty lengths at odds of 3/10. In the 1966 renewal, he was the shortest-priced favourite in history to win the Gold Cup, starting at odds of 1/10. He won the race by thirty lengths despite a mistake early in the race where he ploughed through a fence. However, it did not stop his momentum, nor did he ever look like falling. Arkle had a strange quirk in that he crossed his forelegs when jumping a fence. He went through the season 1965/66 unbeaten in five races. Arkle won 27 of his 35 starts and won at distances from 1m 6f up to 3m 5f. Legendary Racing commentator Peter O'Sullevan has called Arkle a freak of nature — something unlikely to be seen again. Besides winning three consecutive Cheltenham Gold Cups (1964, 1965, 1966) and the 1965 King George VI Chase, Arkle triumphed in a number of other important handicap chases, including the 1964 Irish Grand National (under 12-0), the 1964 and 1965 Hennessy Gold Cups (both times under 12-7), the 1965 Gallagher Gold Cup (conceding 16 lb to Mill House while breaking the course record by 17 seconds), and the 1965 Whitbread Gold Cup(under 12-7). In the 1966 Hennessy, he failed by only half a length to give Stalbridge Colonist 35 lb. The scale of the task Arkle faced is shown by the winner coming second and third in the two following Cheltenham Gold Cups, while in third place was the future 1969 Gold Cup winner, What A Myth. In December 1966, Arkle raced in the King George VI Chase at Kempton Park but struck the guard rail with a hoof when jumping the open ditch, which resulted in a fractured pedal bone; despite this injury, he completed the race and finished second. He was in plaster for four months and, though he made a good enough recovery to go back into training, he never ran again. He was retired and ridden as a hack by his owner and then succumbed to what has been variously described as advanced arthritis or possibly brucellosis and was put down at the early age of 13. Arkle became a national legend in Ireland. His strength was jokingly claimed to come from drinking 2 pints of Guinness a day. At one point, the slogan Arkle for President was written on a wall in Dublin. The horse was often referred to simply as "Himself", and he supposedly received items of fan mail addressed to 'Himself, Ireland'. The Irish government-owned Irish National Stud, at Tully, Kildare, Co. Kildare, Ireland, has the skeleton of Arkle on display in its museum. A statue in his memory was erected in Ashbourne Co Meath in 2004. Dimensions : 55cm x 60cm
55cm x 45cm Doneraile Co Cork Classic Players Please Navy Cut advertising showcard depicting the great Triple Crown Winner Ormonde. Ormonde (1883–1904) was an English Thoroughbred racehorse who won the English Triple Crown in 1886 and retired undefeated. He also won the St. James's Palace Stakes, Champion Stakes and the Hardwicke Stakes twice. At the time he was often labelled as the 'horse of the century'. Ormonde was trained at Kingsclere by John Porter for the 1st Duke of Westminster. His regular jockeys were Fred Archer and Tom Cannon. After retiring from racing he suffered fertility problems, but still sired Orme, who won the Eclipse Stakes twice.
Engraving of the closing stages of the 1886 Derby, with Ormonde leading The Bard
Vintage showcard for the Irish Hospital Sweepstakes selling at 2 shillings & 6 pence for a quarter share and full tickets for 10 shillings a piece. Dublin 34cm x 29cm The Irish Hospital Sweepstake was a lottery established in the Irish Free State in 1930 as the Irish Free State Hospitals' Sweepstake to finance hospitals. It is generally referred to as the Irish Sweepstake, frequently abbreviated to Irish Sweeps or Irish Sweep. The Public Charitable Hospitals (Temporary Provisions) Act, 1930 was the act that established the lottery; as this act expired in 1934, in accordance with its terms, the Public Hospitals Acts were the legislative basis for the scheme thereafter. The main organisers were Richard Duggan, Captain Spencer Freeman and Joe McGrath. Duggan was a well known Dublin bookmaker who had organised a number of sweepstakes in the decade prior to setting up the Hospitals' Sweepstake. Captain Freeman was a Welsh-born engineer and former captain in the British Army. After the Constitution of Ireland was enacted in 1937, the name Irish Hospitals' Sweepstake was adopted. The sweepstake was established because there was a need for investment in hospitals and medical services and the public finances were unable to meet this expense at the time. As the people of Ireland were unable to raise sufficient funds, because of the low population, a significant amount of the funds were raised in the United Kingdom and United States, often among the emigrant Irish. Potentially winning tickets were drawn from rotating drums, usually by nurses in uniform. Each such ticket was assigned to a horse expected to run in one of several horse races, including the Cambridgeshire Handicap, Derby and Grand National. Tickets that drew the favourite horses thus stood a higher likelihood of winning and a series of winning horses had to be chosen on the accumulator system, allowing for enormous prizes.The original sweepstake draws were held at The Mansion House, Dublin on 19 May 1939 under the supervision of the Chief Commissioner of Police, and were moved to the more permanent fixture at the Royal Dublin Society (RDS) in Ballsbridge later in 1940. The Adelaide Hospital in Dublin was the only hospital at the time not to accept money from the Hospitals Trust, as the governors disapproved of sweepstakes. From the 1960s onwards, revenues declined. The offices were moved to Lotamore House in Cork. Although giving the appearance of a public charitable lottery, with nurses featured prominently in the advertising and drawings, the Sweepstake was in fact a private for-profit lottery company, and the owners were paid substantial dividends from the profits. Fortune Magazine described it as "a private company run for profit and its handful of stockholders have used their earnings from the sweepstakes to build a group of industrial enterprises that loom quite large in the modest Irish economy. Waterford Glass, Irish Glass Bottle Company and many other new Irish companies were financed by money from this enterprise and up to 5,000 people were given jobs."[3] By his death in 1966, Joe McGrath had interests in the racing industry, and held the Renault dealership for Ireland besides large financial and property assets. He was known throughout Ireland for his tough business attitude but also by his generous spirit.At that time, Ireland was still one of the poorer countries in Europe; he believed in investment in Ireland. His home, Cabinteely House, was donated to the state in 1986. The house and the surrounding park are now in the ownership of Dún Laoghaire–Rathdown County Council who have invested in restoring and maintaining the house and grounds as a public park. In 1986, the Irish government created a new public lottery, and the company failed to secure the new contract to manage it. The final sweepstake was held in January 1986 and the company was unsuccessful for a licence bid for the Irish National Lottery, which was won by An Post later that year. The company went into voluntary liquidation in March 1987. The majority of workers did not have a pension scheme but the sweepstake had fed many families during lean times and was regarded as a safe job.The Public Hospitals (Amendment) Act, 1990 was enacted for the orderly winding up of the scheme which had by then almost £500,000 in unclaimed prizes and accrued interest. A collection of advertising material relating to the Irish Hospitals' Sweepstakes is among the Special Collections of National Irish Visual Arts Library. At the time of the Sweepstake's inception, lotteries were generally illegal in the United Kingdom, the United States and Canada. In the absence of other readily available lotteries, the Irish Sweeps became popular. Even though tickets were illegal outside Ireland, millions were sold in the US and Great Britain. How many of these tickets failed to make it back for the drawing is unknown. The United States Customs Service alone confiscated and destroyed several million counterfoils from shipments being returned to Ireland. In the UK, the sweepstakes caused some strain in Anglo-Irish relations, and the Betting and Lotteries Act 1934 was passed by the parliament of the UK to prevent export and import of lottery related materials. The United States Congress had outlawed the use of the US Postal Service for lottery purposes in 1890. A thriving black market sprang up for tickets in both jurisdictions. From the 1950s onwards, as the American, British and Canadian governments relaxed their attitudes towards this form of gambling, and went into the lottery business themselves, the Irish Sweeps, never legal in the United States,declined in popularity. Origins: Co Galway Dimensions :39cm x 31cm
F. F. Warren, the engineer who designed the mixing drums from which sweepstake tickets were drawn
Semple Stadium, north-east corner
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