31cm x 26cm
Lovely framed photo of the New York GAA great John "Kerry" O'Donnell being interviewed at Gaelic Park New York by RTE commentator Ger Canning.
(From the Kerryman newspaper )
I have never once heard anyone posing the question,Who was the greatest GAA administrator born in this county?.
Now here is a topic that could be the basis for a long and fascinating debate. And the county has been fortunate to have had some outstanding Kerry men who have served the Association with dedication, skill and exemplary leadership. Names such as Jim Brosnan, Gerald McKenna, Sean Kelly, Sean Walsh, Tadge Crowley, Andy Molyneaux, Fr. Breen, Denis Bailey.
One Kerry man, however, stands shoulder to shoulder with all of these servants of the Kingdom and indeed he is unique because he served the GAA with great distinction thousands of miles away from the county he loved so much. His name is John ?Kerry? O?Donnell.
In the company of a great friend lately I must admit being taken aback when I mentioned John "Kerry"s name in glowing terms and then received the reply. Who was he? I heard the name all right but I know nothing about him?. Sadly the man has been forgotten by many.
John "Kerry" O'Donnelll died in 1994 at ninety-four years of age. He had attended the 1993 All-Ireland final so he was in excellent health right up to the time if his death. He was born in Gleann Na nGealt, near Camp, Co Kerry in 1899 and encapsulated between all those years is one of the most remarkable stories of a Kerry man that you are unlikely to match where ever life takes you.
Its the story of a man who has largely been forgotten by the association he loved and served so well throughout his exemplary life. It has been pieced together with the help of John "Kerry" lovely daughter aptly named and christened Kerry at birth during a lengthy interview I conduced with her some time ago at a function in Dublin. It is the only indepth family interview about this legendary figure recorded to my knowledge.
John "Kerry" left West Kerry as a very young man. He landed in Montreal in Canada where he became a lumberjack. He later worked in New York and in the Dodge car factory in Detroit. Determined to do well in his new world he attended night school and studied plan-reading and brick laying. He worked hard and earned enough money to return home to Kerry where he played with Camp in the West Kerry league. His brother was the legendary Tim O'Donnell who won All Ireland medals in 1929-30-37.
John returned to New York where he was doing very well until the onset of the Wall Street Crash and the depression that followed. Kerry recalls her father?s memories of that terrible time.My dad and all his friends were laid off from the building trade. He was earning $100 a week and now he was down to $7. Irish neighbors Molly and Patsy Clifford were great people and kept dad and all his friends in a rooming house which she ran. He often told the story of walking down 139th Street to the public library where people were selling apples for a few cents but between five of them they could not come up with the price of even one. They were happy to go down there and just see who was buying the apples.?
Thankfully the building trade began to improve. He bought his first saloon bar and later through sheer hard work and expert management skills extended his premises to six.
John "Kerry" also became involved in the Kerry GAA club in New York both as a player and manager of the football teams. He trained New York to win 22 championship titles, a magnificent record which will probably never be beaten. He was elected president of the New York board and was also their Central Council delegate.
In 1941 his legend grew when he became the man who saved Gaelic Park from the developers. Gaelic Park is the home of the GAA in the city that never sleeps. Located in the Bronx, just off Broadway near Manhattan College, it was purchased by the GAA in 1926. It was then known as Innisfail Park. It includes the playing fields, a dance hall and bar. The GAA ran the park for about ten years until it was forced into bankruptcy after which the city took over the land. Kerry O?Donnell takes up the amazing story of her father?s dedication to the games in the city.Paddy Grimes and Billy Snow had the lease of the ground around 1941. They were not interested in renewing so my father and another man arranged to meet the solicitor to sign the agreement and save the grounds from falling into the hands of other sports or developers. My father was the only one to turn up on the day of the meeting. Dad decided to go on his own, it was a massive gamble.He sold some of his properties, kept the Eight Avenue premises and with the help of family and friends he then ran the grounds. He had this huge fear that the place would be lost forever to the GAA and this was the only reason he decided to step in and thankfully it all worked out very well for him.?
The O'Donnell family is to this day still involved in Gaelic Park. It was taken over by Manhattan College in 1991 and in early 2007 artificial turf was laid to replace the old surface on which thousands of Kerry men had played down through the decades. Floodlights have also been installed and it continues to be the spiritual home of the Irish. Every Sunday supporters flock to the centre to meet, play, have a sociable drink and catch up with the news from home. All this would have ben lost for ever without the intervention of the man known as John "Kerry"
Moscow Flyer and jockey Barry Geraghty pictured winning at Punchestown in 2005.
27cm x 30cm Moone Co Kildare
Trained by Jessica Harrington, Moscow Flyer won 26 of 44 starts including 10 Grade One events over fences and three wins at the highest level over hurdles.
Moscow Flyer bowed out of racing after finishing fifth in the 2006 Champion Chase at Cheltenham – a race he won in 2003 and 2005 – and spent the latter half of his retirement at the Irish National Stud in County Kildare.
On his death at the ripe old age of 22,Harrington nominated his victory in the 2004 Tingle Creek at Sandown over old rivals Azertyuiop and Well Chief as her particular highlight
She said: “He’d been in great form at the National Stud. He wasn’t doing the shows any more, he gave that up three or four years ago. People forget how good a hurdler he was. He was winning Grade Ones around the time of Istabraq. He was very smart but completely different over fences.
“Without a shadow of doubt, I think the day he was at his best was Sandown in the Tingle Creek. That day it all went like clockwork against two other brilliant horses. After that, I’d say regaining his Champion Chase [2005] was his best day. He was the horse of a lifetime. I’ll never have another like him, I know that.”
Barry Geraghty steered Moscow Flyer to all but one of his 26 career victories, including in each of his 13 top-level triumphs, and will be forever indebted to the legendary chaser.
Geraghty said: “It’s desperately sad news. I had a tear in my eye when I heard it this morning. Luckily enough, I went to see him with the kids when I was off injured and he was in great form. For me, he’s the horse that kick-started my career. I was 20 when I got on him and he gave me my first Grade One winner. He won everywhere he went for many years and I think he was only a non-runner once throughout his whole career. He was just an incredible horse and tough as anything. He was something special – a superstar.”
Like Harrington, Geraghty feels Moscow Flyer’s Tingle Creek victory of 12 years ago was the highlight. “He gave me my first Festival winner in the Arkle and there were the two Champion Chases, but, for me, his win in the Tingle Creek was the race of races.”
Great collectors item here - a picture of the 1977 Clare Hurling Team which won the National Hurling league Title.Note a young Ger Loughnane present in the front row and the later addition of a not exactly to scale man in the back row!
34cm x 40cm Kilmaley Co Clare
(From the Examiner Newspaper)
One of the 1970s’ great hurling forces was the Clare team of 1976 to 1978.
They made three NHL Finals in a row, winning in 1977 and 1978. Their brand of play lit up many matches, leaving indelible memories for supporters and spectators. They reached the 1977 and 1978 Munster Finals, losing on both occasions to Cork.
Next Monday evening, Councillor Tom McNamara, Chairman of Clare County Council, will host a Civic Reception to honour these players and their mentors. Fr Harry Bohan was manager, with Justin McCarthy acting as coach for the 1977 and 1978 seasons.
Among the players, Séamus Durack (Feakle/Éire Óg) and Jackie O’Gorman (Cratloe) were mainstays during this period. Born in June 1951, Durack won three All Stars as goalkeeper (1977, 1978, 1981). He was first choice for Munster in the Railway Cup between 1973 and 1979, when they won the competition twice (1976, 1978). Born in October 1943, O’Gorman offered a powerful presence at wing back and corner back, appearing for Munster in 1972 and 1973.
They spoke this week to PM O’Sullivan about their careers.
PMO’S: It is 40 years ago, just about, since the 1978 Munster Final in Thurles. What do ye remember about the build-up, the day itself?
SD: The build-up was unbelievable. There was no other topic of conversation in Clare. The level of expectation, especially after losing the Munster Final in 1977, jumped right off the charts. A massive crowd went to Thurles. 54,000 was the official attendance, and I think 5,000 people weren’t even let into the ground.
We couldn’t get in the gate when we arrived at Semple [Stadium]. There was a lad inside and he wouldn’t let us in. I remember saying to him at one stage, and it coming close to the game: “Look, after another minute, we’ll make a decision and we’ll be gone back down that road and there’ll be no game here today, and it’ll be you who has the problem then.”
JO’G: I remember you hit the door a few raps. You were off the bus first. There was this lad and his job was to let no one in that door, or he’d lose his job for the next day. He was shouting: “Ye can’t come in here! The official door is there for ye.” And I said to you: “Shem, sit back down here with us. Sure, there’s no rush. They can’t start without us.” Next thing, a fella opened a door further up, and we all walked in.
SD: To get from the Anner Hotel down to the pitch on the day was phenomenal in itself. We had a Garda escort, but even with it we could hardly get down with the crowds. It was frustrating. Here we were, in Thurles since early, and we still weren’t on time.
JO’G: I never got frustrated. What was the point?
SD: Jackie always had a more relaxed, practical view. He was years ahead of us, in every sense. He was ‘The Godfather’ and we all looked up to him.
But to give you an idea of how different things were back then… When you came in the gate, at the back of the Old Stand in Thurles, getting to the front door of the dressing room was still a nice few yards. As I walked across, I met four to six people I knew as well as I knew Jackie O’Gorman.
I saluted every one of them, and not one of them was capable of saluting me back. They were in a frenzy, a pure frenzy.
They thought Clare were going to win the Munster Championship for the first time since 1932. They were in a zone apart, going in to get their seat to see it all.
So there was a tension-filled trip on the bus, followed by more tension at the ground. There was nothing that could have been done about it. I think the officials were overwhelmed by the amount of people that simply turned up, hoping they might get in.
JO’G: I didn’t get caught up in the hype at all. Goalies are different. Ye have to think about the game more. Ye can’t make a mistake. We can make a mistake, because someone will cover up for you, behind the play, what have you. But no one hurled that day in ’78, both teams. Cork didn’t hurl either. It was an absolute disaster of a day. Never got going as a contest.
SD: I’d go back a year. I think you have to go back a year, to the 1977 Munster Final, in order to understand 1978. If we had won in ’77, I’ll always maintain strongly, we’d have won in ’78. But refereeing changed the whole structure of that first game. We were hurling well in ’77. We were beating Cork, and we had them in desperate trouble all over the place, halfway through the first half. Noel Casey at full-forward was destroying Martin O’Doherty in front of the goal. We were under no pressure at our end of the field.
Then it all changed. I was in the Town goal and Charlie McCarthy, at corner-forward, got involved with our full-back, Jim Power. I can’t say Charlie was a dirty player because he most certainly wasn’t. But that day there was a bit of skulduggery going on, and Charlie pulled three or four times against Jim Power’s leg, and nothing was done about it. Charlie should have had his name taken. Some referees might have sent him off. But it was let go by the referee on the day, Noel Dalton.
Ray Cummins was full forward for Cork, a bright intellectual guy, a wonderful thinker about the game, a brilliant hurler. Ray was one of the three best forwards we ever met in Munster, along with Éamonn Cregan and Francis Loughnane.
Cork’s Ray Cummins (right) flicking the ball past Clare fullback Jim Power. Cummins goal in the 1977 Munster final turned the match around.Now, Jackie was involved in a key incident, which I’ll come to. Ray went up for a ball and caught it. He was the only player I ever saw with the uncanny ability of going forward for the ball in the air, getting it in his hand, and being able to land turned for goal. Jim Power wasn’t the most agile in those situations. So Ray slipped Jim on the turn and came on for goal.
I was in the goals and there was no one between him and me. Being such a tall fella, Ray took his four or five long steps, coming in. And I said to myself: ‘Do I go too early or do I stay?’ So I waited and waited, until the last. And, just as he was on his last step, he dropped the hurley and palmed the ball.
At that stage, as far as I’m concerned, there should have been a whistle blown and a free out for dropping the hurley. We were beating Cork by five points at that stage, I think, and hurling them off the field. This is how close we came to winning a Munster Championship and an All-Ireland… Palmed the ball, and I instinctively put up my shoulder. The ball hit me there [indicates right shoulder], went up and hit the inside of the crossbar, and went into the net. That moment changed the whole course of the game.
JO’G: Was that rule there at the time? I can’t remember. Weren’t you allowed to palm the ball into the net? I remember it happening in All-Ireland Finals during the Seventies, goals got by palming it in.
SD: You could palm the ball into the net or over the bar, so long as you hadn’t dropped the hurley first. They didn’t stop scoring with the hand until sometime in the 1980s, I think. But Ray Cummins dropped his hurley before he palmed the ball that hit my shoulder.
PMO’S: Footage of the game bears out this point. Mick Dunne is doing the commentary for RTÉ and he expresses big surprise that the referee didn’t pull up Ray Cummins for dropping the hurl.
JO’G: Right. If the rule was there, it was there. But referees will always get stuff wrong…
SD: I’ll go back to the hurley being dropped and the other way it might have transpired. Instead of Cork getting a goal, Clare get a free on the 21-yard line, and I land it above in the far square on top of Noel Casey, who is having a right game and had already scored a goal. Maybe, off the free, Noel gets a point or a goal? Do you see what I mean? It was an awful big swing, on one incorrect decision.
Anyway, shortly after that goal, another high ball arrives. And here is where Jackie O’Gorman comes in. Ray Cummins goes up for that ball, in a no man’s land between full-forward and corner-forward. Jackie comes across, being the bit of a free spirit he always was. He’s conscious Cummins has just scored a goal off a high ball, and he pulls, to make sure Cummins doesn’t catch this time. Jackie was just doing his job, helping out his man at full-back.
JO’G: I was great for that! Coming across, helping out. A regular Samaritan…
SD: Whatever way Jackie pulled, Cummins goes down, and there was a free in. Cummins gets up off the ground and faces back towards goals. Jim Power is in his way, standing there, in case there’s a quick free. As Cummins heads towards the goals, he went to go at Power. He must have thought it was Jim who had got him, but it was Jackie. Cummins was mouthing into Power’s face, and he was right up close against him, breathing on him.
This is the white heat of battle, now. This is after Ray Cummins had scored a goal shortly beforehand, after Charlie McCarthy had failed to get booked for slapping at Jim Power. So he was rightly pissed off. Instinctively, with someone so flush in his face, Power did move [indicates a slight movement of head]. A flick, like that. Ray could have got an Oscar for going down.
Then the crowd started baying. The referee came in (and I’m the only one who heard the conversation with his umpires). He comes in to the umpire on my right and says: “What happened? Did you see anything?” He said back: “No, I didn’t see anything at all.” Then Noel Dalton asked the other umpire: “Did you see it?” That umpire said: “He butted him with his head.” Dalton said: ”What? Are you sure?” He repeated: “He butted him with his head.” The ref walked out, took Jim Power’s name, sent him straight to the line. Ray Cummins got up 30 seconds later, played on, not a bother on him. If Power had broke his nose, fair enough. Take out the red card. Ray was a gentleman off the field, and mostly on it too. But it was a disappointing thing on his part. Then again, I suppose he thought Jim had caught him under the high ball… I don’t blame Ray. The real truth was that the referee wasn’t up to the job. His head went on the day.
JO’G: But when I look back on it now I have no regrets about any of it. No regrets whatsoever. I thought those years were the best years of our lives.
SD: Absolutely. They were the same for all of us.
JO’G: Ray Cummins was a really tremendous forward. And there was no ill-will in the slightest between Clare and Cork. No way at all. They were just a bit craftier than us.
SD: They were crafty, and 1977 proved it. We had to see out the rest of the game with 14 men. The free Charlie McCarthy struck over after that sending off put Cork up two points. We had been ahead five points, going great, and now, two high balls later… One was a free out and the other shouldn’t have been a red card. Jim Power went to hell and back over 1977, inside Clare and outside Clare.
We’d have waltzed through Cork in ’78, only for ’77 hanging over us. That destroyed the whole scenario for us. Three-quarters of our team froze on the day in ’78. I mean, 13 points to 11 points as all the scoring done, in a top of the ground game that should have suited us down to the ground. Ray Cummins was one of the best Cork hurlers of all time but he hardly got a puck of the ball in ’78.
PMO’S: Am I right in concluding that ye played on in 1977 with five backs on six forwards? That aspect would amaze people today, playing on minus a defender…
JO’G: Yes, we stayed with just the five backs. That was the way it was at the time. I stayed inside marking Ray and Charlie, with John [McMahon] on Seánie [O’Leary] in the other corner. Those days, the coaching end of it on the sideline was pretty basic. There was no such thing as take off a forward and put on a back. In our time playing, the game wasn’t analysed the same way at all. It was absolutely man on man, do your job, and get out of the way if you can’t do your job. We were never coached, as such. Justin [McCarthy] came in and did fine work on the skills end of it. But the game wasn’t looked into the same way as you have now.
SD: Every team took that approach to a sending off at the time.
JO’G: We didn’t think as much about it. That time, when you went playing hurling, it was to get away from work. Now the current lads nearly go to work to get away from hurling! The present player’s life is consumed by it now. I don’t think a full-time farmer or a tradesman could be a hurler now. Where would he find the time to do the training? Instead you can go off to work for the day. It’s grand: no gym, no weights, no nutrition checks… It’s nearly a break.
You take the hamstring issue now. The present players get so much of this hamstring trouble because they’re straining so much one minute, going at it so hard in training, and then they go and work all day at a desk [mimics typing on a keyboard]. And then the whole thing, the whole body, goes slack. And then if they don’t warm up properly (and we are often laughing at the length of the current warm-ups), they’re fecked. It’s one extreme to another.
I always equate it to a greyhound and a sheepdog. You never saw a sheepdog break its toe. Yet every day greyhounds run out, one of them breaks his toe. Because the greyhound is cooped up all day.
Don’t get me wrong. I think the game now, as a spectator sport, is wonderful to watch. I love it. I don’t agree with this short game Clare were playing, and other counties. A lad runs out 50 yards from goal and he passes the ball sideways to someone… But Clare this year are gone away from that stuff and are playing a bit more direct hurling. They usually have three forwards inside now.
SD: The home advantage makes a big difference in this new round-robin system.
JO’G: It does. Clare should have beaten Cork, down in Cork, only the full-back line went ball-watching and allowed a ball that should have been let wide be struck back across, and a goal got off it. I think our forwards are doing pretty well but our backs, as a unit, are a bit vulnerable. They were cruising against Waterford, at home in Cusack Park, but conceded five or six points at the end of it for no reason I could see. As a unit, at the back, they don’t seem to know how to close it out.
SD: We’ve no enforcer in the current Clare team.
JO’G: John Conlon is the best we have at the minute, and he’s a great old warrior. But he’s not that kind of guy, the kind of lad who’s going to shout: ‘Come on! We’ll go through them now!’ We don’t seem to have any talkers. They’re playing a lovely game…
SD: They are, but it’s a schoolboy game. If you don’t have a couple of enforcers, particularly around the half-forward line, you’ll end up in bother. If you have overly fancy players under the dropping ball, you’re in trouble all day. Because if you have to go long, if the short game doesn’t work for you, you’re caught. If you don’t practise long, if you don’t practise hurling over your head, you’re sucked into an alien game, and you’ll be beaten when the game heats up. You can’t do what you didn’t practise. The big day, the hot day, you’ll be caught out.
JO’G: He doesn’t have to be scoring loads of goals or points, your enforcer. But he has to be going looking for work, knowing he has a lad beside him to give it to, a lad who’ll slot it over the bar. The only time Tipp are a force, in my view, is when [Patrick] ‘Bonner’ Maher is centre-forward, running at defences. [John] ‘Bubbles’ [O’Dwyer] won’t run through the middle. Neither will John McGrath or Noel McGrath.
Tipp lifted off when ‘Bonner’ came on last Sunday. He scored a goal, even though he won’t always score a goal, because he’s not a good striker. But neither was John Power of Kilkenny or Brendan Lynskey of Galway.
They bring something else, something vital, those sort of hurlers.
Framed copy of the An Post sponsored Gaelic football Team of the Millennium in the form of commemorative postage stamps of each of the nominees.
Dimensions: 36cm x 29cm Glazed
"The An Post-GAA Team of the Millennium was unveiled at Croke Park yesterday. The selection which serves as the first 15 inductions into the GAA's new Hall of Fame has also been marked by an issue of 15 commemorative stamps by An Post. The stamps will be available in a variety of combinations from today. Next year, a similar exercise will take place to honour 15 hurlers.
There was some comment on the absence of Dublin's Brian Mullins and Jack O'Shea from Kerry but it seemed generally appreciated that there were only two centrefield slots on the team and someone had to lose out. Tommy Murphy, the Boy Wonder of the 1930s Laois team which won three Leinster titles in a row, who was included ahead of Mullins and O'Shea had the added distinction of being the only player honoured who had not won an All-Ireland medal.
Not surprisingly, Kerry - who top the All-Ireland roll of honour with 31 titles - lead the way on the team with six selections. Despite being clearly second behind Kerry with 22 All-Irelands, Dublin provide only one player, Kevin Heffernan at left corner forward. Galway and Mayo have two players each with one from Cavan, Down, Meath and Laois making up the balance.
Joe McDonagh, President of the GAA, described the project as a reflection "on the history and evolution of our association, its games and its central characters, the players who have left such giant footprints in the sands that is the chronicle of the GAA".
The Hall of Fame which is inaugurated by this team will be represented all through Croke Park, according the GAA director general Liam Mulvihill. He said that the Hall will be added to with a small number of inductions on an annual basis.
"We decided that this team would be the initial members of the Hall of Fame and we were planning to honour those selected around the main areas of the concourse of the re-developed stadium, in the bottom tier and the upper tier. We wanted those ordinary tiers where ordinary supporters gather as the most appropriate place to honour those players.
"The inductions will be in very small numbers, we're probably talking about two a year. Two footballers, two hurlers or one footballer and one hurler. It has to be made very, very special."
Paddy Downey, formerly GAA correspondent of The Irish Times, was one of the adjudicators and confirmed the widespread feeling that the task of selecting such a team wasn't an enviable one.
"It's nearly impossible because there's so many players, particularly in what you might call the big, central positions: midfield, centre-back, full back. Already people are saying to me: `why isn't Brian Mullins on, why isn't Paddy Kennedy of Kerry, Jack O'Shea - above all at the present time' and so on.
"We also had the problem of not picking a half-century team of people we had seen ourselves. You could also argue how could we pick someone we hadn't seen - Dick Fitzgerald, apparently one of the greatest players of all time, Paul Russell of Kerry, Jack Higgins of Kildare, from the earlier part of the century.
"I was conscious that we could have gone further back and taken the word of our predecessors in journalism who had praised these players and done so in print. Inevitably it came to be more a team of the second half of the century than the early years."
Martin O'Connell of Meath was the only player of what might roughly be called contemporary times - one whose career was largely after the selection of the 1984 Centenary Team - to earn a place.
"I was surprised," he said. "I didn't even know until I came up here. I arrived a bit late and Micheal O Muircheartaigh was just reading out the names. I was absolutely delighted."
48cm x 59cm Bruff Co Limerick
1973 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final was the 86th All-Ireland Final and the culmination of the 1973 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 2 September 1973, between Limerick and Kilkenny. The Leinster champions lost to their Munster opponents on a score line of 1-21 to 1-14.
Background
This was Kilkenny's third consecutive appearance in an All-Ireland final. After losing to Tipperary in 1971, 'the Cats' defeated Cork to take their eighteenth championship title in 1972. Limerick, having won the Munster title for the first time since 1955, were lining out in a first All-Ireland final since 1940 when they claimed their sixth championship crown.
The two teams last met in a major game in the semi-final of the 1971-1972 National Hurling League. Limerick were the winners on that occasion with a score line of 3-13 to 2-13. Both teams last met in the championship in the 1940 All-Ireland final when Limerick won. The 1973 All-Ireland final was the sixth championship clash between the two. Limerick had three victories - the All-Ireland finals of 1897, 1936 and 1940 - while Kilkenny defeated Limerick in the finals of 1933 and 1935.
All-Ireland final
Overview
Sunday 2 September was the date of the 1973 All-Ireland senior hurling final at Croke Park. Limerick were playing at the famous stadium for the first time in eighteen years, while for Kilkenny Croke Park was regarded as a home away from home due to the frequency of their visits.
Limerick undoubtedly started the game as rank outsiders against a Kilkenny team regarded as one of the greatest of all-time; however, ‘the Cats’ suffered an amazing streak of bad luck. Between the Leinster and All-Ireland deciders Kilkenny lost many of their key players for one reason or another. Éamonn Morrissey was forced to emigrate to Australia, Jim Treacy was ruled out due to injury, Kieran Purcell couldn’t play because of appendicitis and star forward Eddie Keher couldn’t play because of a broken collar bone. Limerick saw their chance and made a masterful selectorial decision. With Keher and Purcell sidelined Pat Delaney would take up the mantle as Kilkenny’s chief scorer. Delaney was an exceptional half-forward who was far too quick for most defenders. Instead of using a defender to mark him the Limerick selectors moved Éamonn Cregan from the forwards back to centre-back where he was charged with the task of nullifying the Kilkenny marksman. Limerick also had serious losses that day. Mickey Graham, who broke his leg in the National League Final that year, was thus a spectator. Jim O'Donnell, was also injured and was man of the match in the first round v Clare that year and Mick O'Loughlin who would have been their first choice corner back, but could not commit himself to the cause that year were also out. Leonard Enright, who would subsequently win 3 All Stars in his early thirties was engaged in other sports in '73 and thus also unavailable.
The weather on the day of the final was wet, with heavy showers falling before and during the match. Because of this the pitch was extremely slippery while the sliotar was also difficult to control.
Match report
At 3:15pm Mick Slattery of Clare threw in the sliotar and the game was on. The opening forty minutes saw Kilkenny set the standard. Pat Delaney, in spite of Éamonn Cregan doing an excellent man-marking job, scored the opening goal of the game to give Kilkenny the lead. Twice Limerick fell behind in the opening half and twice they fought back. At one stage they trailed by 1-5 to 0-3, however, they held Kilkenny scoreless for two nine-minute spells in the first-half. At the short whistle Limerick were very much on top and left the pitch leading by 0-12 to 1-7.
Five minutes after the restart Kilkenny levelled the scores courtesy of points by Claus Dunne and Liam ‘Chunky’ O’Brien. A minute later ‘the Cats’ went a point ahead when Limerick ‘keeper Séamus Horgan brought off a remarkable save from a palmed shot by Mick Crotty. Although the attempt on goal was blocked, the sliotar flew over the bar for a Kilkenny point. Shortly afterwards Richie Bennis had the sides level when he converted a free from forty yards out. A minute later Limerick secured the match-winning score. A puck-out from Kilkenny ‘keeper Noel Skehan was quickly sent back in his direction by Liam O'Donoghue. Skehan saved the shot but Mossie Dowling and Ned Rea were waiting for the rebound. Dowling became the Limerick hero as he turned the sliotar past Skehan and into the net. Although the match was far from over this was the vital score that gave Limerick the title. The entire second-half saw Limerick show their supremacy. Kilkenny were held scoreless for twenty-three minutes during the second-half while Limerick went on a point-scoring spree for the final quarter. Midfield marshal Richie Bennis finished the game with ten points to his name as Limerick claimed their seventh All-Ireland crown with a 1-21 to 1-14 victory.
25cm x 25cm Tulla Co Clare
Framed newspaper cutting off the 1914 Clare Hurling Selectors .
t was a very different world then. In European terms, the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand lit the fuse that plunged the continent into the Great War in August 1914. Women didn’t have the vote and Emily Parkhurst, pioneer of women’s emancipation, was jailed for protesting outside Buckingham Palace, and not for the first time. In Ireland, we still lived under British Rule. Independence was on many people’s minds and life was a struggle.
In hurling terms, life and work impacted on training and opportunity. These days, the All-Ireland championship is a sophisticated journey involving coaches, motivators, nutritionists and media appearances. In 1914, it was a different. This was illustrated by Tom McInerney, younger brother of Pat ‘Fowler’ McInerney (1914 medal winner) speaking to Liam Ryan of The Irish Times newspaper on August 28, 1995. Tom spoke of the difficulties his brother encountered before the 1914 final. Apparently, young Pat’s labour was so badly needed on the family farm that his father didn’t want him to play hurling. So, when Pat ‘Fowler’ was called up for All-Ireland pre-match training, he was unable to tell his father. One day after dinner, he left home without telling anyone and joined the team for two weeks collective training. He came home with an All-Ireland medal.
The Clare season had begun long before All-Ireland day – October 18, 1914. It began in May of that year with a series of divisional games involving East, South and Mid Clare. These games, the brainchild of Amby Power, were designed to allow the best hurling talent to emerge. And they did, producing much needed young blood, including John Fox, Brendan Considine, Sham Spellissy, Jim Guerin and Fowler McInerney for the senior county side.
Clare started with a decisive 7-3 to 4-1 win over a strong Kerry team. Goals were prolific in hurling at this time because of the abundance of first-time ground striking. Clare went on to conquer Limerick, who had earlier beaten Tipperary by 14 points. A delayed Munster final meant that Cork were nominated to represent Munster in the All-Ireland semi-final and they easily overcame the challenge of Galway, but subsequently lost to Clare in the Munster final.
In Leinster, an exciting and dashing Laois team became the provincial champions for the first time. Along the way, the Midlanders defeated Wexford, Dublin and All-Ireland champions Kilkenny. Laois were the team who would now meet Clare in the All-Ireland final.
Players only, from left: Extreme back row wearing dark jerseys are John Rodgers; Patrick McDermott and Patrick Moloney. Standing l/r: Tom McGrath; John Fox; Rob Doherty; Michael Flanagan; Jim Clancy; Joe Power. Seated: Jim Guerin; Patrick ‘Fowler’ McInerney; Willie ‘Dodger’ Considine; Amby Power; Martin Moloney; Ned Grace; John Shalloo. Front seated: Brendan Considine; James ‘Sham’ Spellissy. Also in the photograph are Dr. T.P. Fitzgerald (team doctor); James O’Regan (chairman of Clare County Council); Jim O’Hehir (team trainer) and Stephen Clune (chairman of the Clare County Board).
On All-Ireland day itself, the Clare team came on to the pitch, accompanied by William Redmond, MP for East Clare. Croke Park was then a smaller venue that had been purchased by the GAA in 1913. The team was greeted by terrific cheering from the estimated attendance of 15,000, who had paid a total of £475 at the gate.
Cars were scarce and many people would have travelled to Dublin by train. One of those was Elizabeth Cremins, then an 18-year-old girl from Newmarket-on-Fergus. Speaking me in 1995, when she was then almost 100 years old, she said, “I went to every hurling match, especially when Newmarket were playing. Newmarket and Ennis were great rivals. I knew John Fox, Jim Clancy, Jim Guerin and Rob Doherty. Rob Doherty was very stylish. He used to thrill the crowds when he’d race along the wing. I remember the newspapers describing his dramatic sprints. Newmarket had great hurlers. We went by train from Ballycar to Dublin. Many of us had never been on a train before. Mike, my brother, was with me and I remember him singing The Croppy Boy on the journey. We got out at Kingsbridge, as it was then and we got on the first tram and got off when it stopped. We thought we were in Jones’ Road (Croke Park).
In the Clare dressing room before the throw in, then as now, switches were made. Management decided to play Jim Guerin instead of the selected Paddy McDermott. Clare got off to a terrific start building up an interval lead of 10 points, 3-1 to Nil with a goal from Jim Clancy after seven minutes and two from Jim Guerin.
Laois, who were never let play with their usual dash, fought back with an early second half goal, but with the Clare backs playing soundly, the forwards went on to score two more goals to leave Clare comfortable winners by 5-1 to 1-0 against a disappointing Laois team.
Clare’s win was reported in the following day’s Irish Independent. “They excelled in both science and dash. Not only in attack did they demonstrate marked superiority, but their backs gave a grand display, which was generally admired. The victorious Clare team collected the Great Southern Challenge Cup and the aftermath celebrations took place in Wynne’s Hotel, Lower Abbey Street. They returned home the following day to a hero’s welcome.”
To day, the All-Ireland final is an extraordinary spectacle, with attendances of over 82,000 and transmitted to millions of people all over the world. In 1914, the attendance was smaller and word of the Clare win filtered slowly back to the county. But, the honour, pride and sense of achievement were exactly the same.
The Team.
The Clare senior team of 1914 sported a white jersey with green sash, while Laois togged in amber jerseys with black bars. The Clare senior team was: Pat ‘Fowler’ McInerney (O’Callaghan’s. Mills); John Shalloo (O’Callaghan’s Mills); William ‘Dodger’ Considine (Ennis Dalcassians); Amby Power (Quin), captain; John Fox (Newmarket); Rob Doherty (Newmarket); Joe Power (Quin); Tom McGrath (O’Callaghan’s Mills Mills); Edward ‘Ned’ Grace (O’Callaghan’s Mills); Michael Flanagan (Quin); Brendan Considine (Ennis Dalcassians); Martin ‘Handsome’ Moloney (Ennis Dalcassians); James ‘Sham’ Spellissy (Ennis Dalcassians); Jim Guerin (Newmarket); Jim ‘Bawn’ Clancy (Newmarket). Subs: John ‘Landger’ Rodgers (Tulla); Patrick ‘Bucky’ Moloney (Killanena) both used. Also Paddy Kenny (Ennis Dalcassians) and F. Brady played in the game against Limerick. Paddy McDermott (Whitegate) and Patrick ‘Bucky’ Moloney played in the Munster final.
Trainer: Jim O’Hehir. Referee: Mr. John Lawlor (Kilkenny)
Juniors make it a double
CLARE was the first county to win the senior and junior double in 1914. In the junior championship, the Banner County defeated Kerry, Tipperary, Cork and Laois in the final by 6-5 to 1-1. The final wasn’t played until March 1915. Match reports in the newspapers of the day were short and erratic. Only four of Clare’s six goals were accounted for. Two are credited to Dan Minogue and the other two to Ted Lucid.
The junior team that defeated Laois at Croke Park was: – Dan Minogue (captain), James Marrinan, Paddy Gordon, Edward (Ted) Lucid, Jack Spellissy, Michael J. Baker, Tommy Daly (goal), Paddy Quinn, Jim Quinn, Michael Bolton, Dan Flannery, Pat Hannon, Atty Gleeson, Simon Minogue, Dan Crowe. Others to play in the championship included John Cody and Charlie Stewart from Ogonnelloe, Freddie Garrihy, Johnny ‘Joker’ Coote, Paddy Connell, P. Rodgers and others. It is important to note that the Clare junior team that defeated Kerry by 6-1 to 1-1 on 21st June 1914 at the Ennis show grounds bore little resemblance to the team that finally won the championship.
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 beautifully presented, upsized reprographic of the front page of the match programme on that famous day./
70cm x 60cm 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
Tuttle's Horse Elixir -A boon for the Horse Owner !
Kilcullen Co Kildare. 62cm x 47cm
Very rare and well framed Tuttle's Horse Elixir poster. The poster was published by Buck Printing Company located in Boston around 1885. The poster is marked "Tuttle's Horse Elixir - A Boon to the Horse Owner - Tuttle's Elixir Has won it's own merit as a leg and body wash. Accept no substitute as it has no equal... Sold By Druggists". It also shows an image of a man taking care of a horse.
here was two companies running with similar names Tuttle's Elexer out of NY and Tuttle's Elixir Co. out of 19 Beverly St. Boston Mass.
HISTORY OF TUTTLE’S ELEXER: Over a hundred years ago a veterinary surgeon named Dr.S.A. TUTTLE put together natural ingredients in the proper proportion to produce a unique liniment that is just as effective today as it was back in 1872. Dr. Tuttle began with denatured grain alcohol and gum turpentine. These are the solvents that carry the other active ingredients. Two essential oils, camphor and oil
of hemlock, were added for their counterirritant and rubifacient effects. This stimulation of the skin and circulatory system generates natural warmth and delivery of the healing components of the blood.To enhance the effectiveness of these agents, Dr.Tuttle added ox gall, an ingredient with specific types of activity found exclusively in Tuttle’s ELEXER. Ox Gall is a unique ingredient that contains sodium salts of glycocholic and taurocholic acids and lecithin as key components.Glycocholic acid and taurocholic acids are powerful biological detergents that act to solubilize fats, and lecithin is a naturally occurring compound that acts as an emulsifier, stabilizer, antioxidant, lubricant and dispersant. This combination with the alcohol and other ingredients in Tuttle’s ELEXER makes it an excellent emulsifier of oil, grease and dirt for cleansing the affected area, particularly when mixed into a water solution. Tuttle’s ELEXER has been used by horse trainers in the U.S. since 1872. Manufactured from Dr. S.A. Tuttle’s original formula, there is no other preparation like it.
Beautiful artwork depicting the ultra talented but ill fated Derby Winner Shergar.
Origins :Naas Co Kildare. Dimensions: 45cm x 55cm Glazed
Shergar was an Irish-bred, British-trained Thoroughbredracehorse. After a very successful season in 1981 he was retired to the Ballymany Stud in County Kildare, Ireland. In 1983 he was stolen from the stud, and a ransom of £2 million was demanded; it was not paid, and negotiations were soon broken off by the thieves. In 1999 a supergrass, formerly in the Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), stated they stole the horse. The IRA has never admitted any role in the theft.
The Aga Khan, Shergar's owner, sent the horse for training in Britain in 1979 and 1980. Shergar began his first season of racing in September 1980 and ran two races that year, where he won one and came second in the other. In 1981 he ran in six races, winning five of them. In June that year he won the 202nd Epsom Derby by ten lengths—the longest winning margin in the race's history. Three weeks later he won the Irish Sweeps Derby by four lengths; a month after that he won the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes by four lengths. In his final race of the year he came in fourth, and the Aga Khan took the decision to retire him to stud in Ireland.
After Shergar's Epsom Derby win, the Aga Khan sold 40 shares in the horse, valuing it at £10 million. Retaining six shares, he created an owners' syndicate with the remaining 34 members. Shergar was stolen from the Aga Khan's stud farm by an armed gang on 8 February 1983. Negotiations were conducted with the thieves, but the gang broke off all communication after four days when the syndicate did not accept as true the proof provided that the horse was still alive. In 1999 Sean O'Callaghan, a former member of the IRA, published details of the theft and stated that it was an IRA operation to raise money for arms. He said that very soon after the theft, Shergar had panicked and damaged his leg, which led to him being killed by the gang. An investigation by The Sunday Telegraph concluded that the horse was shot four days after the theft.
No arrests have ever been made in relation to the theft. Shergar's body has never been recovered or identified; it is likely that the body was buried near Aughnasheelin, near Ballinamore, County Leitrim. In honour of Shergar, the Shergar Cup was inaugurated in 1999. His story has been made into two screen dramatisations, several books and two documentaries.
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
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.
31cm x 26cm Lovely framed photo of the New York GAA great John "Kerry" O'Donnell being interviewed at Gaelic Park New York by RTE commentator Ger Canning. (From the Kerryman newspaper ) I have never once heard anyone posing the question,Who was the greatest GAA administrator born in this county?. Now here is a topic that could be the basis for a long and fascinating debate. And the county has been fortunate to have had some outstanding Kerry men who have served the Association with dedication, skill and exemplary leadership. Names such as Jim Brosnan, Gerald McKenna, Sean Kelly, Sean Walsh, Tadge Crowley, Andy Molyneaux, Fr. Breen, Denis Bailey. One Kerry man, however, stands shoulder to shoulder with all of these servants of the Kingdom and indeed he is unique because he served the GAA with great distinction thousands of miles away from the county he loved so much. His name is John ?Kerry? O?Donnell. In the company of a great friend lately I must admit being taken aback when I mentioned John "Kerry"s name in glowing terms and then received the reply. Who was he? I heard the name all right but I know nothing about him?. Sadly the man has been forgotten by many. John "Kerry" O'Donnelll died in 1994 at ninety-four years of age. He had attended the 1993 All-Ireland final so he was in excellent health right up to the time if his death. He was born in Gleann Na nGealt, near Camp, Co Kerry in 1899 and encapsulated between all those years is one of the most remarkable stories of a Kerry man that you are unlikely to match where ever life takes you. Its the story of a man who has largely been forgotten by the association he loved and served so well throughout his exemplary life. It has been pieced together with the help of John "Kerry" lovely daughter aptly named and christened Kerry at birth during a lengthy interview I conduced with her some time ago at a function in Dublin. It is the only indepth family interview about this legendary figure recorded to my knowledge. John "Kerry" left West Kerry as a very young man. He landed in Montreal in Canada where he became a lumberjack. He later worked in New York and in the Dodge car factory in Detroit. Determined to do well in his new world he attended night school and studied plan-reading and brick laying. He worked hard and earned enough money to return home to Kerry where he played with Camp in the West Kerry league. His brother was the legendary Tim O'Donnell who won All Ireland medals in 1929-30-37. John returned to New York where he was doing very well until the onset of the Wall Street Crash and the depression that followed. Kerry recalls her father?s memories of that terrible time.My dad and all his friends were laid off from the building trade. He was earning $100 a week and now he was down to $7. Irish neighbors Molly and Patsy Clifford were great people and kept dad and all his friends in a rooming house which she ran. He often told the story of walking down 139th Street to the public library where people were selling apples for a few cents but between five of them they could not come up with the price of even one. They were happy to go down there and just see who was buying the apples.? Thankfully the building trade began to improve. He bought his first saloon bar and later through sheer hard work and expert management skills extended his premises to six. John "Kerry" also became involved in the Kerry GAA club in New York both as a player and manager of the football teams. He trained New York to win 22 championship titles, a magnificent record which will probably never be beaten. He was elected president of the New York board and was also their Central Council delegate. In 1941 his legend grew when he became the man who saved Gaelic Park from the developers. Gaelic Park is the home of the GAA in the city that never sleeps. Located in the Bronx, just off Broadway near Manhattan College, it was purchased by the GAA in 1926. It was then known as Innisfail Park. It includes the playing fields, a dance hall and bar. The GAA ran the park for about ten years until it was forced into bankruptcy after which the city took over the land. Kerry O?Donnell takes up the amazing story of her father?s dedication to the games in the city.Paddy Grimes and Billy Snow had the lease of the ground around 1941. They were not interested in renewing so my father and another man arranged to meet the solicitor to sign the agreement and save the grounds from falling into the hands of other sports or developers. My father was the only one to turn up on the day of the meeting. Dad decided to go on his own, it was a massive gamble.He sold some of his properties, kept the Eight Avenue premises and with the help of family and friends he then ran the grounds. He had this huge fear that the place would be lost forever to the GAA and this was the only reason he decided to step in and thankfully it all worked out very well for him.?
Great collectors item here - a picture of the 1977 Clare Hurling Team which won the National Hurling league Title.Note a young Ger Loughnane present in the front row and the later addition of a not exactly to scale man in the back row! 34cm x 40cm Kilmaley Co Clare (From the Examiner Newspaper) One of the 1970s’ great hurling forces was the Clare team of 1976 to 1978. They made three NHL Finals in a row, winning in 1977 and 1978. Their brand of play lit up many matches, leaving indelible memories for supporters and spectators. They reached the 1977 and 1978 Munster Finals, losing on both occasions to Cork. Next Monday evening, Councillor Tom McNamara, Chairman of Clare County Council, will host a Civic Reception to honour these players and their mentors. Fr Harry Bohan was manager, with Justin McCarthy acting as coach for the 1977 and 1978 seasons. Among the players, Séamus Durack (Feakle/Éire Óg) and Jackie O’Gorman (Cratloe) were mainstays during this period. Born in June 1951, Durack won three All Stars as goalkeeper (1977, 1978, 1981). He was first choice for Munster in the Railway Cup between 1973 and 1979, when they won the competition twice (1976, 1978). Born in October 1943, O’Gorman offered a powerful presence at wing back and corner back, appearing for Munster in 1972 and 1973. They spoke this week to about their careers. It is 40 years ago, just about, since the 1978 Munster Final in Thurles. What do ye remember about the build-up, the day itself? The build-up was unbelievable. There was no other topic of conversation in Clare. The level of expectation, especially after losing the Munster Final in 1977, jumped right off the charts. A massive crowd went to Thurles. 54,000 was the official attendance, and I think 5,000 people weren’t even let into the ground. We couldn’t get in the gate when we arrived at Semple [Stadium]. There was a lad inside and he wouldn’t let us in. I remember saying to him at one stage, and it coming close to the game: “Look, after another minute, we’ll make a decision and we’ll be gone back down that road and there’ll be no game here today, and it’ll be you who has the problem then.”To get from the Anner Hotel down to the pitch on the day was phenomenal in itself. We had a Garda escort, but even with it we could hardly get down with the crowds. It was frustrating. Here we were, in Thurles since early, and we still weren’t on time. I never got frustrated. What was the point? Jackie always had a more relaxed, practical view. He was years ahead of us, in every sense. He was ‘The Godfather’ and we all looked up to him. But to give you an idea of how different things were back then… When you came in the gate, at the back of the Old Stand in Thurles, getting to the front door of the dressing room was still a nice few yards. As I walked across, I met four to six people I knew as well as I knew Jackie O’Gorman.
Cork’s Ray Cummins (right) flicking the ball past Clare fullback Jim Power. Cummins goal in the 1977 Munster final turned the match around.You could palm the ball into the net or over the bar, so long as you hadn’t dropped the hurley first. They didn’t stop scoring with the hand until sometime in the 1980s, I think. But Ray Cummins dropped his hurley before he palmed the ball that hit my shoulder. Footage of the game bears out this point. Mick Dunne is doing the commentary for RTÉ and he expresses big surprise that the referee didn’t pull up Ray Cummins for dropping the hurl. Right. If the rule was there, it was there. But referees will always get stuff wrong… I’ll go back to the hurley being dropped and the other way it might have transpired. Instead of Cork getting a goal, Clare get a free on the 21-yard line, and I land it above in the far square on top of Noel Casey, who is having a right game and had already scored a goal. Maybe, off the free, Noel gets a point or a goal? Do you see what I mean? It was an awful big swing, on one incorrect decision. Anyway, shortly after that goal, another high ball arrives. And here is where Jackie O’Gorman comes in. Ray Cummins goes up for that ball, in a no man’s land between full-forward and corner-forward. Jackie comes across, being the bit of a free spirit he always was. He’s conscious Cummins has just scored a goal off a high ball, and he pulls, to make sure Cummins doesn’t catch this time. Jackie was just doing his job, helping out his man at full-back. I was great for that! Coming across, helping out. A regular Samaritan… Whatever way Jackie pulled, Cummins goes down, and there was a free in. Cummins gets up off the ground and faces back towards goals. Jim Power is in his way, standing there, in case there’s a quick free. As Cummins heads towards the goals, he went to go at Power. He must have thought it was Jim who had got him, but it was Jackie. Cummins was mouthing into Power’s face, and he was right up close against him, breathing on him. This is the white heat of battle, now. This is after Ray Cummins had scored a goal shortly beforehand, after Charlie McCarthy had failed to get booked for slapping at Jim Power. So he was rightly pissed off. Instinctively, with someone so flush in his face, Power did move [indicates a slight movement of head]. A flick, like that. Ray could have got an Oscar for going down.Then the crowd started baying. The referee came in (and I’m the only one who heard the conversation with his umpires). He comes in to the umpire on my right and says: “What happened? Did you see anything?” He said back: “No, I didn’t see anything at all.” Then Noel Dalton asked the other umpire: “Did you see it?” That umpire said: “He butted him with his head.” Dalton said: ”What? Are you sure?” He repeated: “He butted him with his head.” The ref walked out, took Jim Power’s name, sent him straight to the line. Ray Cummins got up 30 seconds later, played on, not a bother on him. If Power had broke his nose, fair enough. Take out the red card. Ray was a gentleman off the field, and mostly on it too. But it was a disappointing thing on his part. Then again, I suppose he thought Jim had caught him under the high ball… I don’t blame Ray. The real truth was that the referee wasn’t up to the job. His head went on the day. But when I look back on it now I have no regrets about any of it. No regrets whatsoever. I thought those years were the best years of our lives. Absolutely. They were the same for all of us. Ray Cummins was a really tremendous forward. And there was no ill-will in the slightest between Clare and Cork. No way at all. They were just a bit craftier than us. They were crafty, and 1977 proved it. We had to see out the rest of the game with 14 men. The free Charlie McCarthy struck over after that sending off put Cork up two points. We had been ahead five points, going great, and now, two high balls later… One was a free out and the other shouldn’t have been a red card. Jim Power went to hell and back over 1977, inside Clare and outside Clare. We’d have waltzed through Cork in ’78, only for ’77 hanging over us. That destroyed the whole scenario for us. Three-quarters of our team froze on the day in ’78. I mean, 13 points to 11 points as all the scoring done, in a top of the ground game that should have suited us down to the ground. Ray Cummins was one of the best Cork hurlers of all time but he hardly got a puck of the ball in ’78. Am I right in concluding that ye played on in 1977 with five backs on six forwards? That aspect would amaze people today, playing on minus a defender… Yes, we stayed with just the five backs. That was the way it was at the time. I stayed inside marking Ray and Charlie, with John [McMahon] on Seánie [O’Leary] in the other corner. Those days, the coaching end of it on the sideline was pretty basic. There was no such thing as take off a forward and put on a back. In our time playing, the game wasn’t analysed the same way at all. It was absolutely man on man, do your job, and get out of the way if you can’t do your job. We were never coached, as such. Justin [McCarthy] came in and did fine work on the skills end of it. But the game wasn’t looked into the same way as you have now.Every team took that approach to a sending off at the time. We didn’t think as much about it. That time, when you went playing hurling, it was to get away from work. Now the current lads nearly go to work to get away from hurling! The present player’s life is consumed by it now. I don’t think a full-time farmer or a tradesman could be a hurler now. Where would he find the time to do the training? Instead you can go off to work for the day. It’s grand: no gym, no weights, no nutrition checks… It’s nearly a break. You take the hamstring issue now. The present players get so much of this hamstring trouble because they’re straining so much one minute, going at it so hard in training, and then they go and work all day at a desk [mimics typing on a keyboard]. And then the whole thing, the whole body, goes slack. And then if they don’t warm up properly (and we are often laughing at the length of the current warm-ups), they’re fecked. It’s one extreme to another. I always equate it to a greyhound and a sheepdog. You never saw a sheepdog break its toe. Yet every day greyhounds run out, one of them breaks his toe. Because the greyhound is cooped up all day. Don’t get me wrong. I think the game now, as a spectator sport, is wonderful to watch. I love it. I don’t agree with this short game Clare were playing, and other counties. A lad runs out 50 yards from goal and he passes the ball sideways to someone… But Clare this year are gone away from that stuff and are playing a bit more direct hurling. They usually have three forwards inside now. The home advantage makes a big difference in this new round-robin system. It does. Clare should have beaten Cork, down in Cork, only the full-back line went ball-watching and allowed a ball that should have been let wide be struck back across, and a goal got off it. I think our forwards are doing pretty well but our backs, as a unit, are a bit vulnerable. They were cruising against Waterford, at home in Cusack Park, but conceded five or six points at the end of it for no reason I could see. As a unit, at the back, they don’t seem to know how to close it out. We’ve no enforcer in the current Clare team. John Conlon is the best we have at the minute, and he’s a great old warrior. But he’s not that kind of guy, the kind of lad who’s going to shout: ‘Come on! We’ll go through them now!’ We don’t seem to have any talkers. They’re playing a lovely game… They are, but it’s a schoolboy game. If you don’t have a couple of enforcers, particularly around the half-forward line, you’ll end up in bother. If you have overly fancy players under the dropping ball, you’re in trouble all day. Because if you have to go long, if the short game doesn’t work for you, you’re caught. If you don’t practise long, if you don’t practise hurling over your head, you’re sucked into an alien game, and you’ll be beaten when the game heats up. You can’t do what you didn’t practise. The big day, the hot day, you’ll be caught out. He doesn’t have to be scoring loads of goals or points, your enforcer. But he has to be going looking for work, knowing he has a lad beside him to give it to, a lad who’ll slot it over the bar. The only time Tipp are a force, in my view, is when [Patrick] ‘Bonner’ Maher is centre-forward, running at defences. [John] ‘Bubbles’ [O’Dwyer] won’t run through the middle. Neither will John McGrath or Noel McGrath. Tipp lifted off when ‘Bonner’ came on last Sunday. He scored a goal, even though he won’t always score a goal, because he’s not a good striker. But neither was John Power of Kilkenny or Brendan Lynskey of Galway. They bring something else, something vital, those sort of hurlers.
Framed copy of the An Post sponsored Gaelic football Team of the Millennium in the form of commemorative postage stamps of each of the nominees. Dimensions: 36cm x 29cm Glazed
48cm x 59cm Bruff Co Limerick 1973 All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Final was the 86th All-Ireland Final and the culmination of the 1973 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 2 September 1973, between Limerick and Kilkenny. The Leinster champions lost to their Munster opponents on a score line of 1-21 to 1-14.
Atmospheric photograph of a moustached Michael Collins meeting the Kilkenny hurling team in advance of the 1921 Leinster hurling final, played at Croke Park on September 11, 1921. Dublin won the match on the score of Dublin 4-04 Kilkenny 1-05. 30cm x 40cm Durrow Co Laois Michael Collins was a revolutionary, soldier and politician who was a leading figure in the early-20th-century Irish struggle for independence. He was Chairman of the Provisional Government of the Irish Free State from January 1922 until his assassination in August 1922. Collins was born in Woodfield, County Cork, the youngest of eight children, and his family had republican connections reaching back to the 1798 rebellion. He moved to London in 1906, to become a clerk in the Post Office Savings Bank at Blythe House. He was a member of the London GAA, through which he became associated with the Irish Republican Brotherhood and the Gaelic League. He returned to Ireland in 1916 and fought in the Easter Rising. He was subsequently imprisoned in the Frongoch internment camp as a prisoner of war, but was released in December 1916. Collins rose through the ranks of the Irish Volunteers and Sinn Féin after his release from Frongoch. He became a Teachta Dála for South Cork in 1918, and was appointed Minister for Finance in the First Dáil. He was present when the Dáil convened on 21 January 1919 and declared the independence of the Irish Republic. In the ensuing War of Independence, he was Director of Organisation and Adjutant General for the Irish Volunteers, and Director of Intelligence of the Irish Republican Army. He gained fame as a guerrilla warfare strategist, planning and directing many successful attacks on British forces, such as the assassination of key British intelligence agents in November 1920. After the July 1921 ceasefire, Collins and Arthur Griffith were sent to London by Éamon de Valera to negotiate peace terms. The resulting Anglo-Irish Treaty established the Irish Free State but depended on an Oath of Allegiance to the Crown, a condition that de Valera and other republican leaders could not reconcile with. Collins viewed the Treaty as offering "the freedom to achieve freedom", and persuaded a majority in the Dáil to ratify the Treaty. A provisional government was formed under his chairmanship in early 1922 but was soon disrupted by the Irish Civil War, in which Collins was commander-in-chief of the National Army. He was shot and killed in an ambush by anti-Treaty on 22nd August 1922.
25cm x 25cm Tulla Co Clare Framed newspaper cutting off the 1914 Clare Hurling Selectors . t was a very different world then. In European terms, the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand lit the fuse that plunged the continent into the Great War in August 1914. Women didn’t have the vote and Emily Parkhurst, pioneer of women’s emancipation, was jailed for protesting outside Buckingham Palace, and not for the first time. In Ireland, we still lived under British Rule. Independence was on many people’s minds and life was a struggle. In hurling terms, life and work impacted on training and opportunity. These days, the All-Ireland championship is a sophisticated journey involving coaches, motivators, nutritionists and media appearances. In 1914, it was a different. This was illustrated by Tom McInerney, younger brother of Pat ‘Fowler’ McInerney (1914 medal winner) speaking to Liam Ryan of The Irish Times newspaper on August 28, 1995. Tom spoke of the difficulties his brother encountered before the 1914 final. Apparently, young Pat’s labour was so badly needed on the family farm that his father didn’t want him to play hurling. So, when Pat ‘Fowler’ was called up for All-Ireland pre-match training, he was unable to tell his father. One day after dinner, he left home without telling anyone and joined the team for two weeks collective training. He came home with an All-Ireland medal. The Clare season had begun long before All-Ireland day – October 18, 1914. It began in May of that year with a series of divisional games involving East, South and Mid Clare. These games, the brainchild of Amby Power, were designed to allow the best hurling talent to emerge. And they did, producing much needed young blood, including John Fox, Brendan Considine, Sham Spellissy, Jim Guerin and Fowler McInerney for the senior county side. Clare started with a decisive 7-3 to 4-1 win over a strong Kerry team. Goals were prolific in hurling at this time because of the abundance of first-time ground striking. Clare went on to conquer Limerick, who had earlier beaten Tipperary by 14 points. A delayed Munster final meant that Cork were nominated to represent Munster in the All-Ireland semi-final and they easily overcame the challenge of Galway, but subsequently lost to Clare in the Munster final. In Leinster, an exciting and dashing Laois team became the provincial champions for the first time. Along the way, the Midlanders defeated Wexford, Dublin and All-Ireland champions Kilkenny. Laois were the team who would now meet Clare in the All-Ireland final.
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 beautifully presented, upsized reprographic of the front page of the match programme on that famous day./ 70cm x 60cm 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’.
Tuttle's Horse Elixir -A boon for the Horse Owner ! Kilcullen Co Kildare. 62cm x 47cm Very rare and well framed Tuttle's Horse Elixir poster. The poster was published by Buck Printing Company located in Boston around 1885. The poster is marked "Tuttle's Horse Elixir - A Boon to the Horse Owner - Tuttle's Elixir Has won it's own merit as a leg and body wash. Accept no substitute as it has no equal... Sold By Druggists". It also shows an image of a man taking care of a horse. here was two companies running with similar names Tuttle's Elexer out of NY and Tuttle's Elixir Co. out of 19 Beverly St. Boston Mass. HISTORY OF TUTTLE’S ELEXER: Over a hundred years ago a veterinary surgeon named Dr.S.A. TUTTLE put together natural ingredients in the proper proportion to produce a unique liniment that is just as effective today as it was back in 1872. Dr. Tuttle began with denatured grain alcohol and gum turpentine. These are the solvents that carry the other active ingredients. Two essential oils, camphor and oil of hemlock, were added for their counterirritant and rubifacient effects. This stimulation of the skin and circulatory system generates natural warmth and delivery of the healing components of the blood.To enhance the effectiveness of these agents, Dr.Tuttle added ox gall, an ingredient with specific types of activity found exclusively in Tuttle’s ELEXER. Ox Gall is a unique ingredient that contains sodium salts of glycocholic and taurocholic acids and lecithin as key components.Glycocholic acid and taurocholic acids are powerful biological detergents that act to solubilize fats, and lecithin is a naturally occurring compound that acts as an emulsifier, stabilizer, antioxidant, lubricant and dispersant. This combination with the alcohol and other ingredients in Tuttle’s ELEXER makes it an excellent emulsifier of oil, grease and dirt for cleansing the affected area, particularly when mixed into a water solution. Tuttle’s ELEXER has been used by horse trainers in the U.S. since 1872. Manufactured from Dr. S.A. Tuttle’s original formula, there is no other preparation like it.
Beautiful artwork depicting the ultra talented but ill fated Derby Winner Shergar. Origins :Naas Co Kildare. Dimensions: 45cm x 55cm Glazed Shergar was an Irish-bred, British-trained Thoroughbred racehorse. After a very successful season in 1981 he was retired to the Ballymany Stud in County Kildare, Ireland. In 1983 he was stolen from the stud, and a ransom of £2 million was demanded; it was not paid, and negotiations were soon broken off by the thieves. In 1999 a supergrass, formerly in the Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA), stated they stole the horse. The IRA has never admitted any role in the theft. The Aga Khan, Shergar's owner, sent the horse for training in Britain in 1979 and 1980. Shergar began his first season of racing in September 1980 and ran two races that year, where he won one and came second in the other. In 1981 he ran in six races, winning five of them. In June that year he won the 202nd Epsom Derby by ten lengths—the longest winning margin in the race's history. Three weeks later he won the Irish Sweeps Derby by four lengths; a month after that he won the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes by four lengths. In his final race of the year he came in fourth, and the Aga Khan took the decision to retire him to stud in Ireland. After Shergar's Epsom Derby win, the Aga Khan sold 40 shares in the horse, valuing it at £10 million. Retaining six shares, he created an owners' syndicate with the remaining 34 members. Shergar was stolen from the Aga Khan's stud farm by an armed gang on 8 February 1983. Negotiations were conducted with the thieves, but the gang broke off all communication after four days when the syndicate did not accept as true the proof provided that the horse was still alive. In 1999 Sean O'Callaghan, a former member of the IRA, published details of the theft and stated that it was an IRA operation to raise money for arms. He said that very soon after the theft, Shergar had panicked and damaged his leg, which led to him being killed by the gang. An investigation by The Sunday Telegraph concluded that the horse was shot four days after the theft. No arrests have ever been made in relation to the theft. Shergar's body has never been recovered or identified; it is likely that the body was buried near Aughnasheelin, near Ballinamore, County Leitrim. In honour of Shergar, the Shergar Cup was inaugurated in 1999. His story has been made into two screen dramatisations, several books and two documentaries.
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.
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.