Remembering Willie John Daly: ‘I never shook an opponent’s hand until the game was over’
Writing a book about the GAA in Cork, I got in touch with Willie John through his beloved Carrigtwohill, and when I landed down in the town to chat to him, the stories started to flow.
For those without a point of reference, Willie John was a central character in Munster hurling finals of 1949 to 1954, epic games at the hinge of the century that copperfastened the provincial decider as one of the high holidays in the Irish sporting calendar. The great Tipp team of the time had stars in every line, in the opposite corner Cork balanced those with household names of their own.
Willie John was a headliner himself in those games and often saw the warm-up acts as well. He went to the games in Christy Ring’s car, after all. That afternoon, his recall was vivid and exact. He put me in Killarney for the Munster final of 1951 (“The crowd coming in on top of us,”) and in Limerick the following year (“The tension was unbelievable, packed to capacity”).
When Cork got out of Munster he wasn’t on hand for every incident — in 1953, some Galway players visited the Cork hotel the morning after the All-Ireland to settle some scores, for instance: “I was slow getting up and they were after coming down that time and had a bit of a row. There was a lot of talk about that after, but what about it?”
Still, he could bring an eye-witness’s sharpness to events which have passed into folklore, such as Johnny Clifford’s winning goal for Cork in the 1954 All-Ireland final.
“I wasn’t too far away from the goalkeeper when Johnny got the ball,” he remembered. “The ball should have gone out and the keeper was standing slightly too far in front of his goal, but that was the score that changed the game... I remember looking up at the Hill at one stage and the crowd were coming down in a surge.”
When Ring came back the field in the 1956 Munster final as time was running out, the man from Carrig noticed: “I remember him coming down to the sideline and wondering what he was at. He was changing his hurley, he went back in and got the three goals.”
More feats. More testimony.
As for the playing style of the time, he was unequivocal.
“The game was very different. Nowadays you see a player going in to mark someone and they shake each other’s hand, but when the ball is thrown in, one of them could end up on the ground. In my time I never shook an opponent’s hand until the game was over.
“Also, the first ball that came in would see the hardest pull of the hour. That was to let him know, ‘if you want to play hurling, we’ll play hurling, but if you want the hard stuff, you can have the hard stuff.’ Then, when the game was over you shook hands.
“Simple things. If he beat you for the first ball, and the second ball, you were running out of choices.”
When they weren’t going hip to hip, there was plenty of diversion. Willie John recalled a trip to a Munster football final in Killarney with Ring and Tony Shaughnessy which ended up in Waterville (“A hell of a journey down from Killarney,”).
Over dinner, a priest said another visitor wanted to speak to Ring: Ronnie Delany.
“Another great occasion,” was Willie John’s description.
It still shines in the imagination. The men in their good suits, the winding, empty roads to south Kerry; a seaside in the sun of half a century ago and a mixed grill in a hotel dining room; two of the most famous men in Ireland chatting. But it was an occasion we’d have lost forever if Willie John hadn’t recalled it.
Don’t let them run any more...
Won’t anyone listen to a man who knows the scene? Last week I implored those in power not to inflict sportspeople on us at the next election.
Fewer celebrities and more... non-celebrities was the general thrust of my column, one I felt was convincing and well-argued.
Then, last Friday, I saw the following on RTÉ’s website: “Former inter-county footballer Alan Dillon is seeking a Fine Gael nomination to contest the next general election in the four-seat constituency of Mayo.
“The 35-year-old called time on his Mayo footballing career last month. He continues to line out with his club Ballintubber.
“This afternoon it was confirmed by the local Fine Gael branch in Castlebar that he would go before a selection convention due to be held early in the new year.”
Alan, please. Don’t do this to the poor people of Mayo, who have endured enough (take the mandatory paragraph on All-Ireland final defeats past as read here) without being forced into doorway politeness when you hit the campaign trail.
Could you not find some other way to fill the evenings?
So is it soccer or football?
I wasn’t aware of Simon Critchley’s work, though I understand he’s written about topics as various as David Bowie, suicide, Emmanuel Levinas, Hamlet, and Wallace Stevens, according to the Los Angeles Times.
Critchley’s written a book, What We Think About When We Think About Soccer, and the Liverpool native also told the Los Angeles Times, when tackled about referring to the great game as soccer rather than football: “Yes, it’s more social, in a sense. Soccer is an abbreviation of the “association” that’s at the heart of the game.
“In many ways, soccer is more accurate. Not only because it gets at the association — the socialism — that I’m interested in, but because soccer is a game played with the whole body, not just the feet.”
Presented without comment.
What delights can we expect at Russia 2018?
I note the World Cup draw for Russia 2018 took place last Friday. Obviously Irish fans would prefer if Martin O’Neill’s team were there — it’d certainly give us more chances to see his testy flouncing out of interviews — but alas, that was not to be.
But Russia next year, eh? Kudos to the man who tweeted during the week to remind us of the time Atlanta officials tried to clear their city of homeless people before the 1996 Olympics... by offering them bus tickets out of town.
One-way tickets.
No chance they’ll do that in Russia ahead of the glory that is the World Cup, though.
No chance.
