Gentleman Jim: Dingle’s unsung hero

THERE is a story, perhaps apocryphal, told by the late Dr Jim Brosnan in “Dúthaigh Duibhneach”, a wonderful chronicle of life on the Corca Dhuibhne peninsula published a number of years ago.

In it, Jim recalls an unusual request made by an elderly local who arrived in the surgery one day with two forms for him to sign: one was an eyesight cert for a driving licence renewal, the other was for the Blind Pension! Dr Jim knocked great craic out of that but the story itself tells you a lot the position he held in the community.

That respect and love was often reciprocated as I think people saw in Jim, one who moved into the area who valued and cherished their ways, who worked creatively within their community by bringing in new skills and ideas, who strengthened the community’s commitment to their own culture and who made them feel better about themselves. Crucially, perhaps, for people who like their football heroes and public figures to be low key and understated — Dr Jim had no “éirí in airde” about him.

It was perhaps that lack of any affectation that saw to it that he spent many years of his life as general practitioner and GAA administrator in the service of the ordinary person and the ordinary club man.

In a GAA context, Dr Jim has been variously described as a blue blood, an impatient maverick, a pioneer, a revolutionary and a man of action both on and off the field. But perhaps the description that best defines his contribution to the GAA is that of a football socialist. He had a tremendous loyalty to the game and the players and a fierce conviction that the club player should not be neglected.

As an administrator at local, county and national level he insisted on giving the players ownership of the games.

This insistence once led to the amalgamation of the long established Na Piarsaigh and Sráid Eoin teams in Dingle town. It was an amalgamation that didn’t go down all that well with some at first but with an expanded programme of games, a greater involvement from players and gradual success, people began to see the merits.

In February of last year, I had the great privilege of being present at a function to honour Dr Jim in Dingle. It was an occasion organised by the Kerry team of 1969/1970 and it was born out of warmth and genuine affection for a man who had contributed so much to the game.

Listening to the likes of Maurice Hayes, Seán Ó Neill, Mick O’Connell, Johnny Culloty, Tom Long and our own Mícheál Ó Sé saying their pieces I was struck by the fact that some teams never cease to be teams and that the real magic of the GAA lies in the fact that every team have a permanent place in its rich tapestry.

Until that afternoon, I never knew that Jim Brosnan’s two early second half points in that most famous of finals, the heritage pairing of Kerry and Dublin in 1955, were in fact the defining scores of a great contest. I didn’t realise, either, that the 1955 final was his only appearance in that year’s championship. He got his medal in ‘55 but the wheel had turned full circle in 1959 when he lost out on a medal having played in all games bar the decider.

I am grateful to him for one of the great lessons imparted a few nights after the 2000 All-Ireland final when the Kerry team made it’s way out to Corca Dhuibhne. Dr Jim noticed I was a bit subdued and not enthusiastic about the celebrations. He pulled me aside and said to me ‘You’re like any player — after the game is a bit of an anti-climax. What you thought you’d feel, you never do’. And he was right. It’s the 70 minutes that you do it for.

They say that a man has a public life, a private life and a secret life. I have tried to give you a sense of Dr Jim’s public life. To those who shared his private life, we extend our sympathy this week. The secret life?

Well, that now becomes part of the narrative of Kerry football!

* Liam Mackey is on holidays.