Very rare Limerick print depicting the well known Establishment of Michael Egans,9 ,10 & 11 Patrick Street - a well known business which existed from 1860 to 1960.The going concern import teas, wines and brandies and also held Whiskies in bond from John Jameson's,George Roe's and other distillers.Egans was replaced by J Ormstons General Grocery afterwards .Now the building is simply known as Ormston House,a cultural resource centre in the heart of Limerick City.
An example of this print previously realised £700 at public auction in 2018.
50cm x 60cm. Limerick City
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
Fantastic photo of the late, great John B Keane having an in depth conversation with an old neighbour or friend in north Kerry or West Limerick.
Abbeyfeale Co Limerick 24cm x 21cm
A son of a national school teacher, William B. Keane, and his wife Hannah (née Purtill), Keane was educated at Listowel National School and then at St Michael's College, Listowel. He worked as a chemist's assistant for A.H. Jones who dabbled in buying antiques. Keane had various jobs in the UK between 1951 and 1955 working as a street cleaner, and a bar man, living in a variety of places including Northampton and London. It was while he was in Northampton that Keane was first published in an unnamed women's magazine for which he received £15.
After returning from the United Kingdom, he was a pub owner in Listowel from 1955.
He married Mary O'Connor at Knocknagoshel Church on 5 January 1955 and had four children: Billy, Conor, John and Joanna. He was an Honorary Life Member of the Royal Dublin Society from 1991, served as president of Irish PEN and was a founder member of the Society of Irish Playwrights as well as a member of Aosdána. Keane was named the patron of the Listowel Players after the Listowel Drama Group fractured.He remained a prominent member of the Fine Gael party throughout his life, never being shy of political debate.
His nephew is the investigative journalist Fergal Keane. His son John is a journalist with the Kilkenny People while his son, Billy regularly writes a column for the Irish Independent.
Influences
Keane cited many literary influences including Bryan MacMahon and George Fitzmaurice, fellow Kerry writers and playwrights.
His personal influences were numerous but, most notably he thanked his father and his wife, Mary. Keane was grateful for his father's help with early editing, allowed him access to his personal library, and encouraged him to continue his work until he was successful.
He was also influenced by the local population and the patrons of his pub, on whom he based some of his characters.
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
33cm x 28cm Tournafulla Co Limerick
Truly wonderful photo from the 1950s capturing the essence of the traditional congeniality and warmth of the Irish Pub as two old friends & neighbours discuss the issues and/or gossip of the day over a pint but right outside the Ladies !
Classic photo of the legendary Limerick Character and Young Munster RFC Rugby supporter Dodo Reddan,wheeling her beloved pet dogs onto the pitch at Limericks Thomond Park in 1980 at the Munster Senior Cup Final between Munster's & Bohemians.
28cm x 34cm Limerick
This year marks the 25th anniversary since the passing of Limerick legend Dodo Reddan, and we want to take a look back at her iconic life as one of the city’s most colourful and memorable characters. Dodo, whose real name is Nora Quirke, embodied everything that is great about Limerick – kindness, passion, determination, generosity, and of course, the love of rugby – and we want to pay tribute to her life, and the legacy that she left behind.
Born on Nelson Street in 1922, Dodo came from a working-class background. She was educated at the Presentation Convent, Sexton Street, and throughout her life she worked with the Limerick Leader newspaper, using its columns to speak about causes and topics close to her heart.
Dodo Reddan and her dogs.Picture: Limerick Leader Archive
Dodo was a huge advocate for helping those less fortunate than herself, both animal and human. Well known for her pram full of pet dogs which she was rarely seen without, Dodo was an animal lover who would rescue and take in dozens of dogs throughout her life. She would also distribute food to the homeless, give toys to the city’s poorest children, and use her columns to give a voice to the voiceless – speaking about subjects such as animal welfare, her opinions on proposed domestic water charges, and much more.
The extent of Dodo’s work in caring for animals was not truly realised until after her death in 1995, when it was found that she had been running what was essentially a one-woman Animal Rescue Centre, with her own limited resources and no financial support. Dodo left behind 24 dogs, and Limerick Animal Welfare was assigned with the task of rehoming them all, as it was Dodo’s wish, or more so instruction, that none of the dogs would be put down.
Dodo’s other love was rugby, more specifically Young Munsters RFC, and she naturally became an iconic mascot for the club, appearing at every game with her pram of dogs, dressed to the nines in the team colours of black and amber. One of Dodo Reddan’s most memorable ventures was her journey to Lansdowne Road in Dublin, for the 1993 League Final between Young Munsters RFC and St Mary’s. Prohibited from using passenger accommodation on the train from Limerick as a result of her insistence on bringing her dogs, the ever determined Dodo travelled in the goods compartment of the train. Arriving in Dublin, no taxi or bus would carry her, so she walked her pram of dogs all the way to Lansdowne Road, arriving just in time to witness Young Munsters’ historic victory. The crowd roared with glee at the sight of Dodo and her dogs, and her appearance has been documented as a fundamental memory from that day.
Dodo Reddan and her dogs dressed in the black and amber of Young Munsters RFC
Sadly, Dodo died on September 3, 1995, at the age of 73, following a short illness. Her funeral mass was held at St. Saviour’s Dominican Church on September 5, and she was buried thereafter at Mount Saint Oliver Cemetery. Loved and cherished by the whole of Limerick, to this day, ongoing requests continue for a statue to be erected in her honour. Or better yet, a dog’s home to be established by the County Council in her name, a feat that she was always disappointed didn’t happen in her lifetime.
Speaking about Dodo, one Twitter user wrote, “Dodo Reddan was a true legend. Her regular appearances with all her dogs kitted out in black and amber was a fantastic sight. Fondly remembered.” Another said, “Can a Dodo Reddan mural be next? Strong Limerick woman, amazing animal lover and saver, and rugby obsessed.”
To this day, Dodo Reddan is a name which causes the ears of any Limerick native or rugby fan to prick up, and she has now gone down in history as a dearly cherished Limerick character, legend, and icon. Her love of rugby and her passion and determination for creating change and advocating for the less fortunate will never be forgotten.
Very interesting map/plan of the city of Limerick & its suburbs "undertaken by Christopher Colles.This wonderful piece also includes a sketch of a north west view of there city showing King Johns Castle and Thomondgate Bridge.
Limerick 45cmx 58cm
Stunning action painting of the great Istabraq winging the last hurdle in the Champion Hurdle at Cheltenham
Ballyneety Co Limerick 59cm x 83cm
stabraq was the horse of a lifetime and one of the sport's all-time greats but his tale was always tinged with sadness.
This year marks the 20th anniversary of the day the incredible bay stung the bookmakers with a performance of sheer class to claim the first of his three Champion Hurdle wins but it also marks the death of the man who set the animal on the course to immortality.
The person everyone associates with the Sadler's Wells gelding is nine-time Irish champion jockey Charlie Swan.
The Tipperary native threw his leg over Istabraq for all of his 29 hurdles starts and returned him safely to the winner's enclosure 23 times.
A portrait of the horse still adorns the kitchen of his home at Modreeny House, near Cloghjordan in Tipperary.
"I still have the picture in the kitchen and it's far from the only one in the house," he told Independent.ie.
"He was just a natural over his hurdles. He provided a lot of excellent shots."
He has vivid memories of his first encounter with Istabraq.
"The first time I sat on him was when Aidan brought him for a schooling session on the Curragh. I popped him over a few hurdles. He gave me a great feel," he said
"Actually my wife Carol had schooled him over poles before I ever got near him. Her dad Timmy had bought him for JP and had taken care of him at Camas Park Stud."
Istabraq was not bred to jump but failed to fire on the flat for John Gosden. He won a Salisbury maiden at the fifth time of asking and six more outings on the flat yielded one handicap with at Ayr.
But one man recognised the potential in him. John Durkan.
One of nine children. Durkan was brought up in Glencullen in south Dublin and shared his love for horses with his father Bill, who was amassing a construction empire at the same time.
Durkan was Gosden's assistant at the time but dreamt of training success. Istabraq was one of his first acquisitions.
He swooped when the decision was made to list the horse in Tattersalls Horses-in-Training sales in July 1996 and his father-in-law Timmy Hyde made the 38,000 guineas purchase on behalf of JP McManus after a number of clients Durkan had lined up had pulled out of the deal. Durkan had marked the horse out as a potential Royal and Sun Alliance Hurdle winner.
The plan was for Durkan to train the horse in England but that was derailed when the aspiring trainer was diagnosed with leukemia. Hyde took care of Istabraq and had him gelded at Camas Park Stud but Durkan wanted him trained.
While he received treatment for his illness, Aidan O'Brien was charged with the horses care. The new master of Ballydoyle was only ever filling in until Durkan recovered.
After being beaten by a head on his first hurdle start at Punchestown, the horse won the Royal Bond with ease on his next start and, just as Durkan predicted, he fought off Mighty Moss to win the Royal and Sun Alliance at Cheltenham.
Durkan beamed from his hospital bed as his prophecy was realised. Listening from an apartment in New York as where he awaited a bone marrow transplant the following day.
Thoughts now turned to a tilt at the Champion Hurdle back on Cleeve Hill in 1998. As Istabraq's star rose, Durkan's health waned.
He passed away four days before Istabraq was due to run in the Irish Champion Hurdle at Leopardstown.
He was buried just 24 hours before the horse beat His Song. Swan wore a black armband and Durkan's wife Carol collected the trophy her husband should have been joyously raising aloft had fate not been so cruel.
He was 31 years of age at the time of his death.
"John passed away not long before the Irish Champion Hurdle," Swan recalled.
"He adored the horse and he wanted nothing more than for him to be a success. He was always going to run. It was what he would have wanted."
51 days later on St Patrick's Day, Istabraq bled the bookies dry and demolished his rivals finishing 12 lengths in front of stablemate Theatreworld. His winning time was just shy of the record.
Charlie Swan and JP McManus celebrate winning the Smurfit Champion Hurdle at Cheltenham in 1998. Matt Browne/SPORTSFILE.
On the day he separated himself from the rest, thoughts were of the man who should have stood beside him at the winner's enclosure.
Charlie Swan and Istabraq jump the last during the Smurfit Champion Hurdle at Cheltenham in 1998
Swan got choked back tears in his post-race interview declaring: "This is for John."In recent years McManus said: "I would never have owned the horse but for him and whenever I think of Istabraq I always think of, and remember, John."Istabraq's win in 1998 catapulted him into the public imagination and he would back up his win by retaining his crown in '99 and 2000.The Foot and Mouth outbreak denied him an attempt at a record fifth festival win and a tendon injury saw him pulled up not long after the start in the 2002 renewal and he was retired."I suppose the the third Champion Hurdle was a standout moment," Swan said.
Charlie Swan celebrates winning the Champion Hurdle on Istabraq for the third straight time in 2000
"So few horses had ever achieved it and winning it in a course record time as well. I think that was the moment he cemented himself as one of the greats."He was going for five festival wins in a row in 2001 when foot and mouth happened. The timing was just awful."His injury in 2002 was well documented. Something I'll never forget is the ovation he got after I had pulled him up after two hurdles. I think it showed just how the racing public thought of him."Istabraq is enjoying his retirement at McManus' Martinstown Stud and remains in fine fettle despite his age."I visited him today. He was bucking and kicking. He is being treated like royalty and got a heap of carrots," Swan continued."JP would love to parade him more but he's 26 years of ago now and he gets too excited. It's not good for the insides and he can develop a bit of colic. He's a great age now and he's treated like a king at Martinstown."*******************Charlie Swan was only too happy to reminisce about the exploits of the great Istabraq and reflect on his own stellar career.His dad Donald, who rode in a Grand National, moved to Ireland from England in the 1960s and bought Modreeny House with his wife Teresa,"Most people think that the racing came from my dad's side but there were a lot of jockeys on my mum's side. I think Mam would definitely be claiming me," he said.Teresa's grandfather was Tom Chaloner. He was champion jockey in 1863 and won won both the 2000 Guineas and the Derby on Macaroni.His first taste of victory came in Ballinasloe as a 12-year-old."I enjoyed pony racing when I was younger but I was only in it for the enjoyment," he said.Things changed three years later when Final Assault, a horse trained by hid Dad that he had broken himself, won at Naas with the teenager on its back. The horse raced in the silks of his grandmother Nina Swan.After convincing his parents to allow him to cut short his education at Wilson’s Hospital in Multyfarnham, Co. Westmeath Swan spent summer at Dermot Weld's stable before moving to Kevin Prendergast's yard.He had made a blistering start to his flat career when he suffered a broken leg in a schooling accident as he battled for the apprentice title in 1986 and his weight ballooned."I put on some weight after the broken leg and I went up to Kevin and told him that I wanted to give the National Hunt a go and he rang Dessie (Hughes) for me that day."Two months after joining Hughes, Tom Morgan moved to England and suddenly Swan was top jockey.With a riding weight of 9st 7lb, Swan was hot property in National Hunt racing. There was a vacuum in Irish racing and he filled it."I was lucky because Tommy Carmody was finishing up and at that stage Paul Carberry was just a kid so I was riding a lot of Noel Meade's horses as well and I rode for Mouse (Morris) too," he said.Offers to move to top trainers in England were declined and Swan went on to enjoy 1,314 winners, including 17 at Cheltenham where he was leading jockey in both 1993 and 1994 and nine-times champion in Ireland.He was always honing his craft and reckons that he would have been a better jockey if he was riding today."I would watch tapes back of myself and of top jockeys. I think I'd have been a better jockey if I was riding now to be honest," he said."The current crop of jockeys are the best there has ever been. I mean I don't think we'll ever see another Ruby Walsh. What an amazing horseman he is."Swan sheltered himself from injury as best he could and often refused to ride horses he deemed to be a risk. By the time he rode Istabraq for a final time in 2002 he was only riding over hurdles."I was training at that stage and I spoke to JP and he was like, 'For the sake of a third of your winners, do you need to ride over fence?' I needed to stay fit and healthy because I had a business to run."He still feels the affects of his riding career and it's no wonder after suffering a list of injuries including a broken nose, lost front teeth, a fractured skull, broken collar bones, fractured ribs, a broken leg, a broken foot, a broken wrist, a broken hand, cracked little finger, punctured lung, three breaks to left arm, three breaks to right arm, scarred lip, broken vertebrae and facial scarring over eye and on forehead"I wake up some mornings with pains in my back and arms. I broke my arms six times," Swan admits.Swan saddled over 500 winners in both codes between 1998 and 2015 including Grade One wins for One Cool Cookie and Offshore Account but called it quits because he felt his training venture was no longer viable."I had some great days as a trainer and it's not something I'll ever regret doing."It just got too tough to make money from it."I think the morning I went to tell the staff that it was finished was the toughest. I had to think of my family."The Irish Horseracing Regulatory Board (IHRB) Integrity Statistics for 2017 show that just there are 93 holders of a national hunt training license remaining in the country."You need to be training a lot of winners."It's getting much more difficult for smaller trainers to survive. There are so many overheads. Many are not making a living from it, they just do it for the love of the game. It's what gets them up in the morning."Swan is now part charged with identifying and purchasing talented racehorses in France for JP McManus. Perhaps he'll discover the next Istabraq.
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978.
23cm x 31cm Dromkeen Co Limerick
In this image from the Limerick Leader,we see the traditional haka as performed by the visiting All Blacks Team in 1978.
There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978.
There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish.
Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
SEA OF EMOTION: Munster’s players and supporters celebrate a famous victory.
However, when coach Des Barry resigned for personal reasons, Munster turned once again to Kiernan. Being the great Munster man that he was and remains, Tom was happy to oblige although as an extremely shrewd observer of the game, one also suspected that he spotted something special in this group of players that had escaped most peoples’ attention. He refused to be dismayed by what he saw in the games in London, instead regarding them as crucial in the build-up to the All Blacks encounter. He was, in fact, ahead of his time, as he laid his hands on video footage of the All Blacks games, something unheard of back in those days, nor was he averse to the idea of making changes in key positions. A major case in point was the introduction of London Irish loose-head prop Les White of whom little was known in Munster rugby circles but who convinced the coaching team he was the ideal man to fill a troublesome position.
Kiernan was also being confronted by many other difficult issues. The team he envisaged taking the field against the tourists was composed of six players (Larry Moloney, Seamus Dennison, Gerry McLoughlin, Pat Whelan, Brendan Foley and Colm Tucker) based in Limerick, four (Greg Barrett, Jimmy Bowen, Moss Finn and Christy Cantillon) in Cork, four more (Donal Canniffe, Tony Ward, Moss Keane and Donal Spring) in Dublin and Les White who, according to Keane, “hailed from somewhere in England, at that time nobody knew where”.
Always bearing in mind that the game then was totally amateur and these guys worked for a living, for most people it would have been impossible to bring them all together on a regular basis for six weeks before the match. But the level of respect for Kiernan was so immense that the group would have walked on the proverbial bed of nails for him if he so requested. So they turned up every Wednesday in Fermoy — a kind of halfway house for the guys travelling from three different locations and over appreciable distances.
Those sessions helped to forge a wonderful team spirit. After all, guys who had been slogging away at work only a short few hours previously would hardly make that kind of sacrifice unless they meant business.
October 31, 1978 dawned wet and windy, prompting hope among the faithful that the conditions would suit Munster who could indulge in their traditional approach sometimes described rather vulgarly as “boot, bite and bollock” and, who knows, with the fanatical Thomond Park crowd cheering them on, anything could happen. Ironically, though, the wind and rain had given way to a clear, blue sky and altogether perfect conditions in good time for the kick-off.
Surely, now, that was Munster’s last hope gone — but that didn’t deter more than 12,000 fans from making their way to Thomond Park and somehow finding a spot to view the action. The vantage points included hundreds seated on the 20-foot high boundary wall, others perched on the towering trees immediately outside the ground and some even watched from the windows of houses at the Ballynanty end that have since been demolished.
The atmosphere was absolutely electric as the teams took the field, the All Blacks performed the Haka and the Welsh referee Corris Thomas got things under way.
The first few skirmishes saw the teams sizing each other up before an incident that was to be recorded in song and story occurred, described here — with just the slightest touch of hyperbole! — by Terry McLean in his book ‘Mourie’s All Blacks’.
“In only the fifth minute, Seamus Dennison, him the fellow that bore the number 13 jersey in the centre, was knocked down in a tackle. He came from the Garryowen club which might explain his subsequent actions — to join that club, so it has been said, one must walk barefooted over broken glass, charge naked through searing fires, run the severest gauntlets and, as a final test of manhood, prepare with unfaltering gaze to make a catch of the highest ball ever kicked while aware that at least eight thundering members of your own team are about to knock you down, trample all over you and into the bargain hiss nasty words at you because you forgot to cry out ‘Mark’.
Moss Keane recalled the incident: “It was the hardest tackle I have ever seen and lifted the whole team. That was the moment we knew we could win the game.” Kiernan also acknowledged the importance of “The Tackle”.
He said: “Tackling is as integral a part of rugby as is a majestic centre three-quarter break. There were two noteworthy tackles during the match by Seamus Dennison. He was injured in the first and I thought he might have to come off. But he repeated the tackle some minutes later.”
Many years on, Stuart Wilson vividly recalled the Dennison tackles and spoke about them in remarkable detail and with commendable honesty: “The move involved me coming in from the blind side wing and it had been working very well on tour. It was a workable move and it was paying off so we just kept rolling it out. Against Munster, the gap opened up brilliantly as it was supposed to except that there was this little guy called Seamus Dennison sitting there in front of me.
“He just basically smacked the living daylights out of me. I dusted myself off and thought, I don’t want to have to do that again. Ten minutes later, we called the same move again thinking we’d change it slightly but, no, it didn’t work and I got hammered again.”
The game was 11 minutes old when the most famous try in the history of Munster rugby was scored.
Tom Kiernan recalled: “It came from a great piece of anticipation by Bowen who in the first place had to run around his man to get to Ward’s kick ahead. He then beat two men and when finally tackled, managed to keep his balance and deliver the ball to Cantillon who went on to score. All of this was evidence of sharpness on Bowen’s part.”
Very soon it would be 9-0. In the first five minutes, a towering garryowen by skipper Canniffe had exposed the vulnerability of the New Zealand rearguard under the high ball. They were to be examined once or twice more but it was from a long range but badly struck penalty attempt by Ward that full-back Brian McKechnie knocked on some 15 yards from his line and close to where Cantillon had touched down a few minutes earlier. You could sense White, Whelan, McLoughlin and co in the front five of the Munster scrum smacking their lips as they settled for the scrum. A quick, straight put-in by Canniffe, a well controlled heel, a smart pass by the scrum-half to Ward and the inevitability of a drop goal. And that’s exactly what happened.
The All Blacks enjoyed the majority of forward possession but the harder they tried, the more they fell into the trap set by the wily Kiernan and so brilliantly carried out by every member of the Munster team.
The tourists might have edged the line-out contest through Andy Haden and Frank Oliver but scrum-half Mark Donaldson endured a miserable afternoon as the Munster forwards poured through and buried him in the Thomond Park turf.
As the minutes passed and the All Blacks became more and more unsure as to what to try next, the Thomond Park hordes chanted “Munster-Munster–Munster” to an ever increasing crescendo until with 12 minutes to go, the noise levels reached deafening proportions.
And then ... a deep, probing kick by Ward put Wilson under further pressure. Eventually, he stumbled over the ball as it crossed the line and nervously conceded a five-metre scrum. The Munster heel was disrupted but the ruck was won, Tucker gained possession and slipped a lovely little pass to Ward whose gifted feet and speed of thought enabled him in a twinkle to drop a goal although surrounded by a swarm of black jerseys. So the game entered its final 10 minutes with the All Blacks needing three scores to win and, of course, that was never going to happen.
Munster knew this, so, too, did the All Blacks. Stu Wilson admitted as much as he explained his part in Wardy’s second drop goal: “Tony Ward banged it down, it bounced a little bit, jigged here, jigged there, and I stumbled, fell over, and all of a sudden the heat was on me. They were good chasers. A kick is a kick — but if you have lots of good chasers on it, they make bad kicks look good. I looked up and realised — I’m not going to run out of here so I just dotted it down. I wasn’t going to run that ball back out at them because five of those mad guys were coming down the track at me and I’m thinking, I’m being hit by these guys all day and I’m looking after my body, thank you. Of course it was a five-yard scrum and Ward banged over another drop goal. That was it, there was the game”.
The final whistle duly sounded with Munster 12 points ahead but the heroes of the hour still had to get off the field and reach the safety of the dressing room. Bodies were embraced, faces were kissed, backs were pummelled, you name it, the gauntlet had to be walked. Even the All Blacks seemed impressed with the sense of joy being released all about them. Andy Haden recalled “the sea of red supporters all over the pitch after the game, you could hardly get off for the wave of celebration that was going on. The whole of Thomond Park glowed in the warmth that someone had put one over on the Blacks.”
Controversially, the All Blacks coach, Jack Gleeson (usually a man capable of accepting the good with the bad and who passed away of cancer within 12 months of the tour), in an unguarded (although possibly misunderstood) moment on the following day, let slip his innermost thoughts on the game.
“We were up against a team of kamikaze tacklers,” he lamented. “We set out on this tour to play 15-man rugby but if teams were to adopt the Munster approach and do all they could to stop the All Blacks from playing an attacking game, then the tour and the game would suffer.”
It was interpreted by the majority of observers as a rare piece of sour grapes from a group who had accepted the defeat in good spirit and it certainly did nothing to diminish Munster respect for the All Blacks and their proud rugby tradition.
And Tom Kiernan and Andy Haden, rugby standard bearers of which their respective countries were justifiably proud, saw things in a similar light.
“Jack’s comment was made in the context of the game and meant as a compliment,” Haden maintained. “Indeed, it was probably a little suggestion to his own side that perhaps we should imitate their efforts and emulate them in that department.”
Tom Kiernan went along with this line of thought: “I thought he was actually paying a compliment to the Munster spirit. Kamikaze pilots were very brave men. That’s what I took out of that. I didn’t think it was a criticism of Munster.”
And Stuart Wilson? “It was meant purely as a compliment. We had been travelling through the UK and winning all our games. We were playing a nice, open style. But we had never met a team that could get up in our faces and tackle us off the field. Every time you got the ball, you didn’t get one player tackling you, you got four. Kamikaze means people are willing to die for the cause and that was the way with every Munster man that day. Their strengths were that they were playing for Munster, that they had a home Thomond Park crowd and they took strength from the fact they were playing one of the best teams in the world.”
You could rely on Terry McLean (famed New Zealand journalist) to be fair and sporting in his reaction to the Thomond Park defeat. Unlike Kiernan and Haden, he scorned Jack Gleeson’s “kamikaze” comment, stating that “it was a stern, severe criticism which wanted in fairness on two grounds. It did not sufficiently praise the spirit of Munster or the presence within the one team of 15 men who each emerged from the match much larger than life-size. Secondly, it was disingenuous or, more accurately, naive.”
“Gleeson thought it sinful that Ward had not once passed the ball. It was worse, he said, that Munster had made aggressive defence the only arm of their attack. Now, what on earth, it could be asked, was Kiernan to do with his team? He held a fine hand with top trumps in Spring, Cantillon, Foley and Whelan in the forwards and Canniffe, Ward, Dennison, Bowen and Moloney in the backs. Tommy Kiernan wasn’t born yesterday. He played to the strength of his team and upon the suspected weaknesses of the All Blacks.”
You could hardly be fairer than that – even if Graham Mourie himself in his 1983 autobiography wasn’t far behind when observing: “Munster were just too good. From the first time Stu Wilson was crashed to the ground as he entered the back line to the last time Mark Donaldson was thrown backwards as he ducked around the side of a maul. They were too good.”
One of the nicest tributes of all came from a famous New Zealand photographer, Peter Bush. He covered numerous All Black tours, was close friends with most of their players and a canny one when it came to finding the ideal position from which to snap his pictures. He was the guy perched precariously on the pillars at the entrance to the pitch as the celebrations went on and which he described 20 years later in his book ‘Who Said It’s Only a Game?’
“I climbed up on a gate at the end of the game to get this photo and in the middle of it all is Moss Keane, one of the great characters of Irish rugby, with an expression of absolute elation. The All Blacks lost 12-0 to a side that played with as much passion as I have ever seen on a rugby field. The great New Zealand prop Gary Knight said to me later: ‘We could have played them for a fortnight and we still wouldn’t have won’. I was doing a little radio piece after the game and got hold of Moss Keane and said ‘Moss, I wonder if ...’ and he said, ‘ho, ho, we beat you bastards’.
“With that, he flung his arms around me and dragged me with him into the shower. I finally managed to disentangle myself and killed the tape. I didn’t mind really because it had been a wonderful day.”
Dimensions :47cm x 57cm
Fantastic image from bygone times of a rather squashed terrace at the Munster Hurling Final between Limerick and Tipp in 1950.However cramped the terrace appears to be,the kid supporters seem to be very happy at their birds eye view of the proceedings!
Limerick City 33cm x 29cm
26cm x 30cm Limerick City
Lovely photograph depicting a number of sightseers viewing the famous Treaty Stone,one of the most iconic visitor attractions in Limerick City.
The Treaty Stone is the rock that the Treaty of Limerick was signed in 1691, marking the surrender of the city to William of Orange.
Limerick is known as the Treaty City, so called after the Treaty of Limerick signed on the 3rd of October 1691 after the war between William III of England (known as William of Orange) and his Father in Law King James II.
Limericks role in the successful accession of William of Orange and his wife Mary Stuart, daughter of King James II to the throne of England cannot be understated.
The Treaty, according to tradition was signed on a stone in the sight of both armies at the Clare end of Thomond Bridge on the 3rd of October 1691.
The stone was for some years resting on the ground opposite its present location, where the old Ennis mail coach left to travel from the Clare end of Thomond Bridge, through Cratloe woods en route to Ennis.
The Treaty stone of Limerick has rested on a plinth since 1865, at the Clare end of Thomond Bridge. The pedestal was erected in May 1865 by John Richard Tinsley, mayor of the city.
63cm x 125cm Limerick
Large iconic poster from the glory years of Munster rugby ,when they were at the top of the tree in European Club Rugby.This particular promotional poster dates from the 2000 Final,Munster's first final appearance.
Northampton 9-8 Munster
Despite thunder, lightning, and torrential rain earlier in the morning, the sun rightly appeared to shine on the capacity crowd at Twickenham for what proved to be a magnificent occasion.
It was the fifth European Cup final, and the first time a French side had not featured, but the lack of Gallic flair took nothing away from a thrilling match.
Munster scored the only try of the match - but in a tale of two boots, Northampton secured a historic victory thanks to the ever-prolific Paul Grayson.
This has been a big season for the players and to have come this close and not won a trophy would have been a major disappointment
Northampton rugby director John Steele
He scored three penalty goals - while his counterpart, the young Ronan O'Gara missed four kicks out of four, including one just a minute from time.After his side's win, Saints' rugby director, John Steele, said: "We were very positive all week. This has been a big season for the players and to have come this close and not won a trophy would have been a major disappointment."I felt we deserved our victory today - it is fantastic. I think people perceived that we would play like a tired side and maybe it took Munster aback that we weren't the war-weary team many people thought."The power of the Northampton pack was evident from the start, and when Munster gave away a penalty in front of the posts, Grayson gave Saints the lead within two minutes.
A young Munster fan celebrates his side's try
The Irish side struggled to get any of the ball in the opening ten minutes, and they were lucky to keep the deficit to just three points.A handling error from winger Ben Cohen denied Northampton a try yards from the line, and sensing their luck, Munster picked up the pace and put together a kick and chase - allowing Jason Holland to level the score with a drop goal.Having started slugglishly, Munster began to play with more sharpness, and it was soon Northampton who found themselves having to clear within their own 22.A strong wind, was whistling its way through the West London ground, favouring Saints during the first half.Saints' captain Pat Lam was a man inspired, charging through tackle after tackle, but Northampton were let down by poor passes in promising positions.This gave Declan Kidney's side hope, and the Irish contingent were sent into raptures when a series of quick, accurate passes allowed David Wallace to score the only try of the match on 33 minutes.
Both teams found it hard to break each other down
Ronan O'Gara found the kick too testing and Munster had to be satisfied with a five-point lead.Northampton, who have played outstanding rugby all season, were only able to add three points to their score before the interval - Grayson slotting an easy penalty.O'Gara on the other hand missed an opportunity to add to the Munster lead - missing a late penalty.Irish skipper Keith Wood, made Munster's intentions clear from the re-start, taking a brilliant catch and following it with a stunning 40 yard run.But, before the Irish were able to capitalise, Saints' scrum-half Dom Malone, intercepted and took the ball upfield.The initiative finally swung Northampton's way, when Grayson scored his third penalty to put Saints into a one-point lead.Rare opportunityMunster squandered a rare opportunity to go back into the lead when they opted to put the ball into touch instead of kicking a penalty.Having won the line-out however, the forwards were unable to make any headway against the immovable Northampton pack.Minutes later, another chance went begging when O'Gara missed his third kick of the match.Munster were beginning to dominate in terms of possession but were finding it impossible to tranform their advantage into points.They suffered a further blow when captain Mick Galwey was sin-binned for failing to allow Saints to take a quick penalty.With just seven minutes to go, Grayson surprised everyone by missing a simple kick.But he had done enough to secure the victory Northampton's performances this season so richly deserved.Teams:Northampton: Grayson, Moir, Bateman, Allen, Cohen, A. Hepher, Malone, Pagel, Mendez, Stewart, Newman, Rodber, MacKinnon, Pountney, Lam.
Replacements: Bramhall, Tucker, Northey, Walter, Scelzo, Metcalfe, Phillips.Munster: Crotty, Kelly, Mullins, Holland, Horgan, O'Gara, Stringer, Clohessy, Wood, Hayes, Galwey, Langford, E. Halvey, Wallace, Foley.
Replacements: O'Neill, Keane, Tierney, Quinlan, O'Callaghan, Sheahan, Horan.
Referee: Joel Dume (Franc
Very rare Limerick print depicting the well known Establishment of Michael Egans,9 ,10 & 11 Patrick Street - a well known business which existed from 1860 to 1960.The going concern import teas, wines and brandies and also held Whiskies in bond from John Jameson's,George Roe's and other distillers.Egans was replaced by J Ormstons General Grocery afterwards .Now the building is simply known as Ormston House,a cultural resource centre in the heart of Limerick City. An example of this print previously realised £700 at public auction in 2018. 50cm x 60cm. Limerick City
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’.
Fantastic photo of the late, great John B Keane having an in depth conversation with an old neighbour or friend in north Kerry or West Limerick. Abbeyfeale Co Limerick 24cm x 21cm
Statue of John B. Keane in Listowel, County Kerry.
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.
33cm x 28cm Tournafulla Co Limerick Truly wonderful photo from the 1950s capturing the essence of the traditional congeniality and warmth of the Irish Pub as two old friends & neighbours discuss the issues and/or gossip of the day over a pint but right outside the Ladies !
Classic photo of the legendary Limerick Character and Young Munster RFC Rugby supporter Dodo Reddan,wheeling her beloved pet dogs onto the pitch at Limericks Thomond Park in 1980 at the Munster Senior Cup Final between Munster's & Bohemians. 28cm x 34cm Limerick
Very interesting map/plan of the city of Limerick & its suburbs "undertaken by Christopher Colles.This wonderful piece also includes a sketch of a north west view of there city showing King Johns Castle and Thomondgate Bridge. Limerick 45cmx 58cm
Stunning action painting of the great Istabraq winging the last hurdle in the Champion Hurdle at Cheltenham Ballyneety Co Limerick 59cm x 83cm stabraq was the horse of a lifetime and one of the sport's all-time greats but his tale was always tinged with sadness. This year marks the 20th anniversary of the day the incredible bay stung the bookmakers with a performance of sheer class to claim the first of his three Champion Hurdle wins but it also marks the death of the man who set the animal on the course to immortality. The person everyone associates with the Sadler's Wells gelding is nine-time Irish champion jockey Charlie Swan. The Tipperary native threw his leg over Istabraq for all of his 29 hurdles starts and returned him safely to the winner's enclosure 23 times. A portrait of the horse still adorns the kitchen of his home at Modreeny House, near Cloghjordan in Tipperary. "I still have the picture in the kitchen and it's far from the only one in the house," he told Independent.ie. "He was just a natural over his hurdles. He provided a lot of excellent shots." He has vivid memories of his first encounter with Istabraq. "The first time I sat on him was when Aidan brought him for a schooling session on the Curragh. I popped him over a few hurdles. He gave me a great feel," he said "Actually my wife Carol had schooled him over poles before I ever got near him. Her dad Timmy had bought him for JP and had taken care of him at Camas Park Stud." Istabraq was not bred to jump but failed to fire on the flat for John Gosden. He won a Salisbury maiden at the fifth time of asking and six more outings on the flat yielded one handicap with at Ayr.One of nine children. Durkan was brought up in Glencullen in south Dublin and shared his love for horses with his father Bill, who was amassing a construction empire at the same time. Durkan was Gosden's assistant at the time but dreamt of training success. Istabraq was one of his first acquisitions. He swooped when the decision was made to list the horse in Tattersalls Horses-in-Training sales in July 1996 and his father-in-law Timmy Hyde made the 38,000 guineas purchase on behalf of JP McManus after a number of clients Durkan had lined up had pulled out of the deal. Durkan had marked the horse out as a potential Royal and Sun Alliance Hurdle winner. The plan was for Durkan to train the horse in England but that was derailed when the aspiring trainer was diagnosed with leukemia. Hyde took care of Istabraq and had him gelded at Camas Park Stud but Durkan wanted him trained. While he received treatment for his illness, Aidan O'Brien was charged with the horses care. The new master of Ballydoyle was only ever filling in until Durkan recovered. After being beaten by a head on his first hurdle start at Punchestown, the horse won the Royal Bond with ease on his next start and, just as Durkan predicted, he fought off Mighty Moss to win the Royal and Sun Alliance at Cheltenham. Durkan beamed from his hospital bed as his prophecy was realised. Listening from an apartment in New York as where he awaited a bone marrow transplant the following day. Thoughts now turned to a tilt at the Champion Hurdle back on Cleeve Hill in 1998. As Istabraq's star rose, Durkan's health waned. He passed away four days before Istabraq was due to run in the Irish Champion Hurdle at Leopardstown. He was buried just 24 hours before the horse beat His Song. Swan wore a black armband and Durkan's wife Carol collected the trophy her husband should have been joyously raising aloft had fate not been so cruel. He was 31 years of age at the time of his death. "John passed away not long before the Irish Champion Hurdle," Swan recalled. "He adored the horse and he wanted nothing more than for him to be a success. He was always going to run. It was what he would have wanted." 51 days later on St Patrick's Day, Istabraq bled the bookies dry and demolished his rivals finishing 12 lengths in front of stablemate Theatreworld. His winning time was just shy of the record.But one man recognised the potential in him. John Durkan.On the day he separated himself from the rest, thoughts were of the man who should have stood beside him at the winner's enclosure.Charlie Swan and JP McManus celebrate winning the Smurfit Champion Hurdle at Cheltenham in 1998. Matt Browne/SPORTSFILE.
Swan got choked back tears in his post-race interview declaring: "This is for John." In recent years McManus said: "I would never have owned the horse but for him and whenever I think of Istabraq I always think of, and remember, John." Istabraq's win in 1998 catapulted him into the public imagination and he would back up his win by retaining his crown in '99 and 2000. The Foot and Mouth outbreak denied him an attempt at a record fifth festival win and a tendon injury saw him pulled up not long after the start in the 2002 renewal and he was retired. "I suppose the the third Champion Hurdle was a standout moment," Swan said.Charlie Swan and Istabraq jump the last during the Smurfit Champion Hurdle at Cheltenham in 1998
"So few horses had ever achieved it and winning it in a course record time as well. I think that was the moment he cemented himself as one of the greats. "He was going for five festival wins in a row in 2001 when foot and mouth happened. The timing was just awful. "His injury in 2002 was well documented. Something I'll never forget is the ovation he got after I had pulled him up after two hurdles. I think it showed just how the racing public thought of him." Istabraq is enjoying his retirement at McManus' Martinstown Stud and remains in fine fettle despite his age. "I visited him today. He was bucking and kicking. He is being treated like royalty and got a heap of carrots," Swan continued. "JP would love to parade him more but he's 26 years of ago now and he gets too excited. It's not good for the insides and he can develop a bit of colic. He's a great age now and he's treated like a king at Martinstown." ******************* Charlie Swan was only too happy to reminisce about the exploits of the great Istabraq and reflect on his own stellar career. His dad Donald, who rode in a Grand National, moved to Ireland from England in the 1960s and bought Modreeny House with his wife Teresa, "Most people think that the racing came from my dad's side but there were a lot of jockeys on my mum's side. I think Mam would definitely be claiming me," he said. Teresa's grandfather was Tom Chaloner. He was champion jockey in 1863 and won won both the 2000 Guineas and the Derby on Macaroni. His first taste of victory came in Ballinasloe as a 12-year-old. "I enjoyed pony racing when I was younger but I was only in it for the enjoyment," he said. Things changed three years later when Final Assault, a horse trained by hid Dad that he had broken himself, won at Naas with the teenager on its back. The horse raced in the silks of his grandmother Nina Swan. After convincing his parents to allow him to cut short his education at Wilson’s Hospital in Multyfarnham, Co. Westmeath Swan spent summer at Dermot Weld's stable before moving to Kevin Prendergast's yard. He had made a blistering start to his flat career when he suffered a broken leg in a schooling accident as he battled for the apprentice title in 1986 and his weight ballooned. "I put on some weight after the broken leg and I went up to Kevin and told him that I wanted to give the National Hunt a go and he rang Dessie (Hughes) for me that day." Two months after joining Hughes, Tom Morgan moved to England and suddenly Swan was top jockey. With a riding weight of 9st 7lb, Swan was hot property in National Hunt racing. There was a vacuum in Irish racing and he filled it. "I was lucky because Tommy Carmody was finishing up and at that stage Paul Carberry was just a kid so I was riding a lot of Noel Meade's horses as well and I rode for Mouse (Morris) too," he said. Offers to move to top trainers in England were declined and Swan went on to enjoy 1,314 winners, including 17 at Cheltenham where he was leading jockey in both 1993 and 1994 and nine-times champion in Ireland. He was always honing his craft and reckons that he would have been a better jockey if he was riding today. "I would watch tapes back of myself and of top jockeys. I think I'd have been a better jockey if I was riding now to be honest," he said. "The current crop of jockeys are the best there has ever been. I mean I don't think we'll ever see another Ruby Walsh. What an amazing horseman he is." Swan sheltered himself from injury as best he could and often refused to ride horses he deemed to be a risk. By the time he rode Istabraq for a final time in 2002 he was only riding over hurdles. "I was training at that stage and I spoke to JP and he was like, 'For the sake of a third of your winners, do you need to ride over fence?' I needed to stay fit and healthy because I had a business to run." He still feels the affects of his riding career and it's no wonder after suffering a list of injuries including a broken nose, lost front teeth, a fractured skull, broken collar bones, fractured ribs, a broken leg, a broken foot, a broken wrist, a broken hand, cracked little finger, punctured lung, three breaks to left arm, three breaks to right arm, scarred lip, broken vertebrae and facial scarring over eye and on forehead "I wake up some mornings with pains in my back and arms. I broke my arms six times," Swan admits. Swan saddled over 500 winners in both codes between 1998 and 2015 including Grade One wins for One Cool Cookie and Offshore Account but called it quits because he felt his training venture was no longer viable. "I had some great days as a trainer and it's not something I'll ever regret doing. "It just got too tough to make money from it. "I think the morning I went to tell the staff that it was finished was the toughest. I had to think of my family." The Irish Horseracing Regulatory Board (IHRB) Integrity Statistics for 2017 show that just there are 93 holders of a national hunt training license remaining in the country. "You need to be training a lot of winners. "It's getting much more difficult for smaller trainers to survive. There are so many overheads. Many are not making a living from it, they just do it for the love of the game. It's what gets them up in the morning." Swan is now part charged with identifying and purchasing talented racehorses in France for JP McManus. Perhaps he'll discover the next Istabraq.Charlie Swan celebrates winning the Champion Hurdle on Istabraq for the third straight time in 2000
There are many chapters in Munster’s storied rugby journey but pride of place remains the game against the otherwise unbeaten New Zealanders on October 31, 1978. 23cm x 31cm Dromkeen Co Limerick In this image from the Limerick Leader,we see the traditional haka as performed by the visiting All Blacks Team in 1978. There were some mighty matches between the Kiwis and Munster, most notably at the Mardyke in 1954 when the tourists edged home by 6-3 and again by the same margin at Thomond Park in 1963 while the teams also played a 3-3 draw at Musgrave Park in 1973. During that time, they resisted the best that Ireland, Ulster and Leinster (admittedly with fewer opportunities) could throw at them so this country was still waiting for any team to put one over on the All Blacks when Graham Mourie’s men arrived in Limerick on October 31st, 1978. There is always hope but in truth Munster supporters had little else to encourage them as the fateful day dawned. Whereas the New Zealanders had disposed of Cambridge University, Cardiff, West Wales and London Counties with comparative ease, Munster’s preparations had been confined to a couple of games in London where their level of performance, to put it mildly, was a long way short of what would be required to enjoy even a degree of respectability against the All Blacks. They were hammered by Middlesex County and scraped a draw with London Irish. Ever before those two games, things hadn’t been going according to plan. Tom Kiernan had coached Munster for three seasons in the mid-70s before being appointed Branch President, a role he duly completed at the end of the 1977/78 season.
Fantastic image from bygone times of a rather squashed terrace at the Munster Hurling Final between Limerick and Tipp in 1950.However cramped the terrace appears to be,the kid supporters seem to be very happy at their birds eye view of the proceedings! Limerick City 33cm x 29cm
26cm x 30cm Limerick City Lovely photograph depicting a number of sightseers viewing the famous Treaty Stone,one of the most iconic visitor attractions in Limerick City.The Treaty Stone is the rock that the Treaty of Limerick was signed in 1691, marking the surrender of the city to William of Orange.Limerick is known as the Treaty City, so called after the Treaty of Limerick signed on the 3rd of October 1691 after the war between William III of England (known as William of Orange) and his Father in Law King James II. Limericks role in the successful accession of William of Orange and his wife Mary Stuart, daughter of King James II to the throne of England cannot be understated. The Treaty, according to tradition was signed on a stone in the sight of both armies at the Clare end of Thomond Bridge on the 3rd of October 1691. The stone was for some years resting on the ground opposite its present location, where the old Ennis mail coach left to travel from the Clare end of Thomond Bridge, through Cratloe woods en route to Ennis. The Treaty stone of Limerick has rested on a plinth since 1865, at the Clare end of Thomond Bridge. The pedestal was erected in May 1865 by John Richard Tinsley, mayor of the city.
63cm x 125cm Limerick Large iconic poster from the glory years of Munster rugby ,when they were at the top of the tree in European Club Rugby.This particular promotional poster dates from the 2000 Final,Munster's first final appearance. Northampton 9-8 Munster Despite thunder, lightning, and torrential rain earlier in the morning, the sun rightly appeared to shine on the capacity crowd at Twickenham for what proved to be a magnificent occasion. It was the fifth European Cup final, and the first time a French side had not featured, but the lack of Gallic flair took nothing away from a thrilling match. Munster scored the only try of the match - but in a tale of two boots, Northampton secured a historic victory thanks to the ever-prolific Paul Grayson.
This has been a big season for the players and to have come this close and not won a trophy would have been a major disappointment
Northampton rugby director John Steele
A young Munster fan celebrates his side's try
Both teams found it hard to break each other down
