When Paudie Moloney talks about the last year of his life, he does so with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude, as if it has all happened to someone else. He laughs easily, shrugs off the attention, and repeatedly returns to the same idea: this was never the plan.
“This time last year,” he says, “I was getting on with retirement, even if I was just waiting. Waiting to hear if I’d even gotten on The Traitors. That was it.”
He had no expectations beyond that. No sense that a single decision – filling out an application, turning up for an interview – would quietly reroute the course of his retirement. No thought that he would become one of the most warmly received contestants in the first season of The Traitors Ireland, or that he’d soon find himself stepping into sequins and rehearsal studios for RTÉ’s Dancing With The Stars.
I genuinely thought I’d go in, have a go, get knocked out early, and walk away,
“That was it. I never expected any of this. I still don’t know how it happened, to be honest.”
While his journey has been unexpected, it was hardly accidental. Paudie didn’t stumble blindly into The Traitors. He was a fan long before the Irish version aired. He had watched the UK series closely, dipped into international versions, and loved the psychology of it – the secrecy, the strategy, the quiet calculations happening beneath polite conversation.
“I loved the whole concept,” he says. “The idea of hiding secrets, trying to figure out who’s lying, who’s playing who. I always said to my wife, ‘If Traitors ever comes to Ireland, I’d love to go for it’.” When the Irish casting call opened, it was his son who sent him the link and Paudie took no convincing.
“The very minute I heard it was coming to Ireland, I applied. It was a no-brainer.” Applying is one thing, however. Getting selected was an entirely different proposition and even then, there were no guarantees. What did surprise him was the level of secrecy required long before the cameras even started rolling. From the very first interview, producers were clear: tell nobody. Not friends. Not acquaintances. At most, a partner.

“I was actually afraid of losing my place if I said anything,” he admits. “So I didn’t tell a soul.” For someone used to a working life built on discretion – Paudie spent 20 years working in the prison service – that secrecy felt natural. But, if keeping schtum was second nature, nothing could quite prepare him for what came after.
“I genuinely thought I would be on the show for a very short time. I never figured it would be the case people would recognise me or become a ‘celebrity’.”
“I was just being myself,” he laughs, “the fact people related to me was humbling.” Watching The Traitors unfold at home, as episodes aired and public reaction gathered momentum, Paudie still didn’t anticipate the impact it would have.
“Even as the episodes were coming out, I never thought it would change my life,” he says. “I really didn’t.” He insists he wasn’t performing for the cameras, wasn’t trying to shape a version of himself for television. If anything, he barely noticed the cameras at all.
I never sat there thinking, ‘This is going to be on TV.’ I was just trying to mind my words, mind my secrets. That was it.
Viewers, however, connected deeply with him. Paudie quickly emerged as a fan favourite – praised for his authenticity, emotional intelligence, and calm presence amid a game built on suspicion.
Why did people respond so strongly?
“I don’t know,” he says, honestly. “The only answer I have is that I was just myself. I wasn’t trying to be anything else.” Strangers began stopping him in the street. Conversations started where none had existed before. Invitations followed – The Late Late Show, public appearances, and eventually a phone call from RTÉ that would introduce the next unexpected chapter.

When Dancing With The Stars came calling, Paudie’s first reaction wasn’t fear – it was logistics.
“It’s a massive commitment,” he says. “I know I’m retired, but it’s still a big ask.” He was upfront about his medical history. Five years ago, he underwent a serious hip operation. Both his knees have been under the knife. He made no attempt to hide his limitations.
“I didn’t want to be wasting anyone’s time,” he says.
What he didn’t dwell on was public scrutiny. By that stage, The Traitors Ireland had already aired. The reaction – overwhelmingly positive – had softened any anxiety about being visible. “I probably am more ready now,” he reflects. “I’m much more used to talking to people about it. More familiar with the camera. That experience definitely helped.” For those who might be meeting him for the first time on Dancing With The Stars, Paudie is refreshingly direct.
“People are going to say, ‘Who the hell is he?’ And that’s fair enough,” he laughs. “All I can say is – what you saw on The Traitors was the real me. And that’s what you’ll see again.” So what of his dancing? Maloney is quick to dismantle any illusion about his dance background.
“This will be my first time genuinely dancing sober,” he says, deadpan. Like many Irish men of his generation, his relationship with dancing has been largely ceremonial: weddings, the odd funeral, the occasional late-night shuffle.
“I would never, ever have done anything like this before,” he admits. “Never.” That’s where professional partner Laura Nolan comes in – and Paudie speaks about her with unfiltered admiration.

“She’s fantastic,” he says. “A brilliant teacher. There isn’t a bad bone in her body, and she has the patience of a saint. And trust me… she’d need to!” Training is well underway – four days a week, long sessions that test both stamina and confidence. While he could never claim to have foreseen the physical challenge he has visited upon himself, there is no sense of the Limerick man being overwhelmed. Paudie swims regularly and prides himself on keeping fit, but Dancing with the Stars, he understands, is likely to be his biggest test yet, both in terms of preparation and performing under pressure. If Traitors measured his ability to keep a secret, the coming weeks will test his capacity to overcome most Irish men’s greatest fear – dancing in public.
“It’s intense,” he says. “But in a good way.” Laura, he explains, understands exactly where his limits are – and where they aren’t.
“She knows what’s within my capabilities,” he says.
I won’t be doing handstands or flips. They know that from the start. But she can tailor things perfectly. That’s what makes her so good.
Paudie describes himself as competitive, though not in the conventional sense.
“I compete with myself,” he says. “I want to do well for me.” He’s realistic about the field. He knows there will be younger contestants, fitter bodies, more natural movers.
“But I’ll fully enjoy it,” he says. “That’s the most important thing.” He quickly dispels any notion that fame has changed him. Becoming a celebrity later in life comes with certain benefits, he argues, perspective amongst them. The reactions of friends and family have ranged from delight to disbelief. “Some think I’m mad,” he laughs. “Actually, they all think I’m mad. But, if I am, I am in my own way.” His children and grandchildren, he says, are supportive – but honest.
“They just want me to do what I can do,” he says. “That’s it.” Long before television entered his life, Paudie was someone who tried things. Squash, triathlons, new routines. New challenges. “I’ve always believed that you should never not try something new,” he says.

He is wary of being framed as a role model, particularly for people in post-retirement life, but is also aware he’ll be seen by many as the elder statesman of the group. It’s a burden he wears lightly.
“It’s never been my intention to be seen one way or another. I’m not trying to inspire anyone, but if someone at my stage of life watches and feels motivated to try something because of me, then great. I’m not preaching. I’m just doing this because I enjoy it.” Still, he understands what people see in his story – the idea that life doesn’t narrow as you age, that opportunity doesn’t come with an expiry date.
Perhaps the most striking shift in Paudie’s life is the move from privacy to public recognition.
“In my working life, you were always anonymous,” he says. “Your name wasn’t out there. Your address wasn’t public. That was how it had to be.” Now, strangers know his name. People he never knew stop him for chats, just to wish him luck. “It’s completely different,” he says. “A total switch.” And yet, he doesn’t overthink it. If I started worrying about it, I’d be nervous,” he says. “So, that’s my secret. I just don’t put it into my head.” That, more than anything, may explain why audiences connect with him. Paudie Moloney isn’t performing ease – he inhabits it.
Ask Paudie what’s next, and he smiles.
“I’m retired, I have to remind myself of that” he says. “And I like my retirement. What I can remember of it!
Whenever this journey ends, I’ll be getting back to retired life.” Whatever Dancing With The Stars brings him – glitter, fake tan, new fans, a signature move mastered under the glaring Sunday night lights – he’s approaching it the same way he approached The Traitors: open, grounded and utterly unpretentious. “I’m enjoying it,” he says. “And
hopefully people watching will enjoy it as much as me.”
- Dancing with the Stars returns tomorrow, 6.30pm on RTÉ One and RTÉ Player
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