Farewell to Micheál O Muircheartaigh, a living legend

Micheál O Muircheartaigh was more than just a commentator. He was, and is, a friend to everyone, and I'm fortunate to know him, writes Sean Og O hAilpin.

 

I've been fortunate to meet Micheál O Muircheartaigh on many occasions during my career. Now that he's announced his retirement from broadcasting, and commentated on his last All-Ireland final, he will be sorely missed by anyone who follows the GAA at any level. You won’t find one person with a bad word to say about Micheál.

The closest thing I can compare it to, and I mean this, is when Brian Corcoran retired in 2006. Brian Corcoran is a Cork legend, the best Cork hurler I’ve ever played with, and Micheál retiring is like that. It’s like a legendary player bowing out. Even though he’s a broadcaster and commentator, you can ask any other player, and you can be sure that they almost think of Micheál as a fellow player.

He has a unique voice, and a unique technique, and some of his best lines are famous the world over. One of those concerned me – he said that my father was from Fermanagh, my mother from Fiji, neither a hurling stronghold. He said that in about 2004 I think, and ever since then whenever people introduce me, they often introduce me with that line.

Micheál has a rare ability of making time pass more quickly when you’re around him. I remember going on an All-Star trip to Argentina a few years ago. We had to make a connecting flight in Madrid, and it meant waiting in the airport for about six hours. A couple of us got chatting to Micheál, and the six hours felt like about 30 minutes.

For so many people, the best of both worlds was turning on the television and having Micheál on the radio. But if you didn’t have the television, it didn’t matter

Whatever way the conversation went, he always had something interesting to say. His knowledge of the game is unbelievable, be it training, coaching or physical conditioning. When Mick O’Dwyer was in charge of Kerry, Micheál would take the Dublin-based Kerry lads and he told me a story once about Jack O’Shea. Most players, when they finish up training for the year, they put on weight, but Micheál said that Jacko would actually lose weight. He was one of the few players who put on weight when he started training.

Micheál is very knowledgeable about all that side of the game. He would sometimes, when he met a player first, ask him what weight he was – he said that if you looked heavier than you were, that was a sign of a good athlete. It’s a similar story with top racehorses or greyhounds, he said. The ones who are lighter than they look are often the post powerful athletes.

A bit of language

Micheál would always come into the dressing-rooms before he commentated on a match. He’d go to the team manager to get any news about late changes or injury worries so he’d have everything ready for the commentary box. We shared a love of the Irish language so he’d often come down to me and speak a few words. He’d have walked the pitch beforehand so he’d always mention whether it was dry or hard or soft, and we’d chat about which type of boots I might wear. As the years passed, I’d just say to him ‘Micheál, screw-ins or moulded?’

The camaraderie he has with all the players is unbelievable. With a lot of the media, there’s a bit of a distance there, a few barriers. Okay, Micheál wasn’t a reporter as such but he was in the media. Where he was different is that he was a real players’ man. He was a human being about everything. If someone was having a bad time of it, he wouldn’t tear shreds off them behind the microphone. He’d just say something like ‘off-day today’ and leave it at that. Players respected him for that.

Apart from players and the GAA itself, Micheál O Muircheartaigh has given tremendous service to his country. Anywhere around the world, Irish people felt connected to home through him. For the exiles living abroad, no matter what part of the world they were in, Micheál brought them home for a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon. I know one man from west Cork who emigrated to Sydney years ago and when he tuned in to Micheál on a Sunday it made him feel at home, even though he was looking round him at the concrete jungle of a foreign city.

Here at home, the effect he has had on the country, especially in rural areas I think, was massive. The radio is something that an awful lot of people in this country pay attention to above anything else, and many tuned in religiously on a Sunday because of Micheál.

For so many people, the best of both worlds was turning on the television and having Micheál on the radio. But if you didn’t have the television, it didn’t matter. I was on the road this summer when a game was on. From the dimensions he was giving you – ‘he’s on the 50-yard line, five yards from the sideline on the Hogan Stand side of the field’ – you could picture everything. The windscreen may have been a television screen.

Talking last week, he said, ‘Ni thagann in aon rud ach seal.’ Time is only temporary. All things must come to an end. That’s the way he described his retirement. He'll be replaced, but there will only ever be one Micheál O Muircheartaigh.

Farewell Micheál, we wish you well. You’ll be sadly missed.