Paddy ‘Both Barrels’ Clancy: the newspaperman who trained a generation

Cormac O'Keeffe pays tribute to the formidable editor whose sharp instincts, tougher lessons and humanity shaped generations of reporters

Remembering Paddy “Both Barrels” Clancy, a legendary editor who trained generations of Irish journalists. File picture

It was a deep shock this morning to hear of the passing of journalist Paddy Clancy — or, as many of us who worked for him in our youth would call him, Paddy “Both Barrels” Clancy.

He was old school in every sense of the word.

Paddy enjoyed giving his reporters a ‘bollicking’. In fact, he mastered the art of it.

“Cormac, you f**ked up” would be how it started.

You would dread those words being uttered — or being summoned into his chef de bureau office, positioned at the top of the newsroom of the Irish Sun in the 1990s and 2000s.

But with the stick came the carrot — the teaching he provided.

I still recall him standing over my shoulder as I began typing a story, dictating the style and structure of the sentences.

Sentences had to be short, clear and impactful. He loved the dash. Every first par had to have a dash — as it gave the sentence zip.

Along with the word “dash”, he would utter “point” — meaning full stop — and then “par”, meaning next paragraph. And so it went.

This discipline he inculcated (not that he would use such a word) stuck.

News reporting had to be sharp, clear and hit home to the reader.

If Paddy was unhappy with the progress of your story — typically when a person or organisation failed to respond quickly enough — he would utter a couple of classic lines:

• “Put a rocket under them.” 
• “Give them both barrels.”

Paddy knew a story and pushed you to get it — and get it right.

There was a decent, softer side to the man, and he enjoyed socialising. The old Christmas press drinks at Garda HQ spring to mind — but it’s best to spare details of those eventful nights from another era.

Other striking memories of Paddy were the occasions when you might be out on a story or grabbing lunch and he would ring and say another immortal line: “Drop everything.”

This was rapid-response territory, where you literally dropped whatever you were doing and got to the scene as fast as possible as a big story broke.

I remember one such incident when the Abbeylara tragedy occurred in April 2000, and the snapper and I were dispatched with haste.

I also remember him sending me to Merrion Square to talk to the first car owner clamped in Dublin — and, fearing his wrath, I ran after the poor driver down a laneway to get the crucial two or three words.

This was an era when older reporters might sneak off for a ‘liquid lunch’ — another journalism tradition belonging to the old school.

Paddy typically wore a cardigan and was often on the phone to his beloved wife, Bernie.

He was an expert at filing expenses. In fact, if he told reporters “I’m doing my expenses” and closed his door, it brought welcome relief.

One of my former colleagues at the Irish Examiner, Noel Baker, also trained under Clancy.

“The very first day we were both in the office I went for lunch, only for Paddy to call me and give me a dressing down. My offence — ironically — was that I’d filed a story too early.

“Paddy was gruff and brusque and the rest of it but once you got to know him, he was an incredible influence. His news instincts were unbelievable, as was his ability to write effective, sharp copy. He’d knock anything you wrote into shape, often leaning over your shoulder to dictate the corrections.

“As someone who had worked on Fleet St, he had an authority and an aura about him. He barrelled into a room like a prizefighter entering the ring. The stories associated with him were legendary, possibly apocryphal and often unprintable, but he was the very definition of a newspaperman.” 

The Sligo man had a great radio voice and for decades used it to convey experience and authority in his RTÉ Morning Ireland segment, ‘It Says In the Papers’.

He worked tirelessly for more than 60 years as a journalist and editor.

He received a Lifetime Achievement Award at the NewsBrands Ireland Journalism Awards in 2019, and only finally retired — as a freelancer — in 2023.

Paddy, aged 82, was a legend of the trade. His work lives on in the journalists he trained.

They will raise a pint to him tonight.