"Shannon, Munster and the Banner has lost a great son.": Anthony Daly's tribute to Anthony Foley
After we won the 1995 All-Ireland, the TSB decided that I was a wasted asset serving behind the counter (oh lord) so they gave me a job on the road selling pensions and fitted me with a company car. My first car.
I was doing some business in south Galway early one afternoon when I got a call from Pat Murray, the then Shannon and Munster full-back, who also worked for the TSB.
“Are you busy in the evening?” he asked.
“I’ve one call to make in Gort,” I replied.
“G’wan and get it done fast,” said Murray. “We’re going to East Clare (Bodyke) for a round of golf.”
The good old days!
Pat had a fourball lined up; the two of us, a buddy of his from Limerick, that I didn’t know, and this fella called Anthony Foley.
I had heard of Foley alright, but only because he had played U16 hurling for East Clare in the Munster Divisional championship.
We had a great auld evening. We shot the breeze, kept it as straight as we could on the fairways, and then went to Mike Mac’s in Scarriff for a bit of grub.
It certainly wasn’t the worst day’s work I ever put down. To make it better, I’d sold one of my first pensions, and secured a few leads as well in the same day.
From that moment on although far from a rugby fanatic, I always followed Axel’s career.
Johnny Callanan, the former Clare hurler, brought me to Thomond Park on a few Friday nights to watch Shannon. Johnny was a great Shannon fan, when the AIL was in full flow so I was fully aware of Anthony as he gradually established his reputation with Munster and Ireland.
We’d have a couple of beers before the match.
When my career had wound down and the social side of a Friday night could be enjoyed a bit more, Axel had become one of the main men by that stage.
I always admired him as a real hard man, and a real leader.
Last Sunday, the Clarecastle team of 1991, which won the county title, were being honoured at half-time in the county final. We all met in Ciaran’s bar near the pitch before the game. We weren’t long in the door when the news started circulating about Axel. We were all hoping it was only a rumour. When we realised it wasn’t, there was a complete numbness in the pub. The county final nearly went by in blur.
I’ll be honest, I spent a lot of Monday evening welled up with tears. I bought two papers. I read as much as I could online. The more I read about Axel, the more I was overcome with sadness and emotion.
I didn’t know the man well but he was always great company when we did meet. I had been to a few functions over the years which the rugby guys had organised. Keith Wood had one magic night in the old Burlington. Like Woody, Anthony was a passionate Clare-man. There were often times during his career when I shouted at the TV: ‘Hi, hold on a minute now, he might be Limerick in rugby terms, but he’s one of ours.’
Listening to Woody speak on Off the Ball the other evening, it was obvious how much Axel loved ‘the town’, his home-place of Killaloe.
The bridge on the river Shannon separates Clare from Tipperary and Killaloe from Ballina and it was always obvious how much the Killaloe people cherished their Clare identity. For sure, Axel always did.
His sister Rosie is married to Pat Minogue from Scarriff. I played Clare U21 alongside Pat, even though he was a few years younger than me. He was actually playing on that Scarriff team Clarecastle beat in that county final 25 years ago.
There is a massive love for hurling in that part of East Clare. The local club Smith O’Briens have also been devastated this week. Even though two of Killaloe’s greatest sons were legendary rugby figures, Clare were always extremely proud to claim them as two of their own, especially with them both having played underage hurling for Clare before they made it big-time as rugby players. Sure, we can always say that we toughened them up before Munster polished them off and what a moment when he lifted Europe’s holy grail in 2006.
Axel’s sense of Clareness, his passion on the field, his leadership qualities always endeared him to me.
Like myself, he went into coaching early too. Like myself, it wasn’t always easy in the early years.
He didn’t have the same money or talent that Munster often had in the past but I still never heard anyone say a bad word about him as Munster coach when results weren’t going great. That was a measure of how highly he was held but I’ve no doubt that Axel would have absorbed all those harsh lessons and put them to good use down the line when his time came again to head the province.
Being taken at 42 adds to the whole sense of shock and sadness but the biggest loss is to his family, His mam and dad, his sisters and especially his wife and two boys.
The two lads will see the footage and realise in time how much of an icon their dad was but he won’t be around to help with the homework or bring them for a few pucks, or a few kicks of a rugby ball.
The legacy will always be there but that emotional loss leaves a massive void that is never easy to fill.
I was around the same young age when I lost my father in similar circumstances to heart disease. A heart attack also claimed my brother Paschal at just 40. I was devastated to lose my brother and friend but my first thoughts were his wife and two kids. It was my first thought too on Sunday when I heard the terrible news about Axel.
Six days on, it’s still hard to believe that the great man is gone. Limerick, Shannon, Munster and Irish rugby has lost a great son.
But so has the Banner.
