Gerald McCarthy: ‘I don’t think anybody will ever equal Christy Ring's passion, his drive, and his achievements’

From age 11 until he shared a Cork dressing room with him, Gerald McCarthy was in awe of Ring, and saw all sides of him. ‘He had a habit of emphasising something by poking you in the shoulder — you’d be black and blue from him’. He spoke to Tadhg Coakley

Legendary Cork hurler Gerald McCarthy with the photo of Christy Ring opening McCarthy’s shop on Princes Street, Cork in 1978. Picture: Eddie O’Hare

I sat down with Gerald McCarthy in his shop on Princes Street in Cork city, both of us keeping the requisite two metres apart. The only photo in the premises hung on the wall above his head, with a fresh-faced Christy Ring at its centre, wielding a scissors, cutting a white tape.

What’s your first recollection of Christy Ring?

“I went to the All-Ireland final in 1956 and that was a real thrill. I was only 11 and it was my very first time seeing him in action. Even though Cork lost it was extraordinary and Ring was wonderful on the day, Wexford carried him off the field. 

That was amazing for a child to see. As a 12- and 13-year-old I remember going to National League games and he stood out so much in those games, too, he really did – every time. He was a great, great player.

Why was he so good?

He always himself put it down to this strength. And I think that was a major part of his greatness. He believed he was stronger than anybody and – despite the fact he wasn’t tall – that he could burst through anybody. And it was like that with him. You simply couldn’t contain him. 

And you could see that right up to the very end of his career. He played in a county final against us in 1964 and he got a goal and two points and practically won the game for the Glen. And he would have been 44 by then but he was still amazing. So you can imagine what he was like when was 28. 

Of course, he had all the skills, too. All the skills, which very few players have.

What was he like as an opponent?

Incredibly tough, he was impossible really to manage for the whole match and that was true at inter-county level but especially at club level. As well as the strength, he had a remarkable hurling brain – he always knew what to do in any situation. 

When he got older, he slowed down in speed but he could compensate for that. All he needed was a ten-yard burst and he’d be in. 

I saw him getting a goal one day, I think it was a National League match against Wexford. And he was getting a tough time of it, they were all marking him hard and the ball came into the square and he was being pulled and dragged by a couple of backs. He ran away from them, behind the goal and back around the other side and came across the breaking ball and clung it in the back of the net. I never saw the like before or since. 

I was only 13 but when I saw him doing that … You couldn’t make it up.

There was a question of him coming back for Cork in 1966, what are your memories of that?

There was, and the amazing thing was the selectors agreed to bring him on the panel. This was for the Munster Final. 

His name actually appeared on the programme as a sub, but he wasn’t there on the day. Now, I don’t know why. Some people said that he wouldn’t appear as a sub or that the selectors only voted him on the panel 3-2. 

We heard all sorts of stories but my own personal belief was that he felt himself that he didn’t deserve to be there. He wouldn’t be the kind to come in on top of a team on its way to an All-Ireland. 

The players would have welcomed him completely, with open arms, I do know that – as captain, I was certain of it. But after the Munster Final it certainly wasn’t going to happen. 

Now we also wanted him to win another All-Ireland medal and to get to nine and ahead of John Doyle. But quite honestly, he didn’t need that other All-Ireland to prove anything. He didn’t. He didn’t need to prove anything to anybody – especially Cork people.

In 1976 he became a Cork selector and you would have seen a different side of him then.

Very much so. He was always fiery, a great character. When he had a point of view you knew it, you’d never be in doubt. 

I remember in particular in 1976 when we were playing Galway in the All-Ireland semi-final and there was a lot of hassle over the footballers and the three stripes affair. 

Jimmy Barry-Murphy was one of the footballers suspended and he felt strongly about it but Christy took the opposite point of view and the two of them squared off in the dressing room, and he invited Jimmy outside to sort it out. Can you imagine? 

The hurlers just wanted to back up the footballers and the suspensions were a bit of a farce. We didn’t decide until we were in the dressing room before the match whether or not we would wear the shorts – I had the 20 shorts ready in my gear bag in case we needed them. 

Eventually, the board gave us a guarantee that the suspensions would be dropped, but it was a close-run thing. 

Of course, Christy and Jimmy were the best of friends and the whole thing was forgotten after and when it came to matches he was very much a players’ man. He knew what players would be thinking and suffering, coming up to big games. And he’d be talking to you and he had a habit of emphasising something by poking you in the shoulder – you’d be black and blue from him, that’s the kind he was, he was very intense.

He’d be slow to give a team talk, he really didn’t put himself forward, but when the situation demanded it, he’d be the one to give us a big shake up. 

He did that against Clare in 1977 when we were very poor in the first half and we went on to win. Another time he came into his own was at the All-Ireland final in 1977 when I broke Seanie O’Leary’s nose in the warm-up before the game. I hit a ball and I could see it was heading straight for the back of Seanie’s head. I shouted and Seanie turned and the ball smashed his nose, he was in gores of blood, he was in a bad way. 

Frank Murphy brought him back to the dressing room to get him looked after by the first-aid people and Ringy burst in. Come on Seanie, says Ring, nobody ever won an All-Ireland with his nose. And Seanie had a great game after, scoring 1-2 and we won the cup. That was Christy.

Tell me about that photo above your head.

That was taken in October 1978, not long before he died. And when I asked him to open the shop he said no, he didn’t do openings. He was constantly being asked to open businesses and do all sorts of things but he didn’t like the limelight at all, he was a very shy man, really. 

He said, look I’ll do it for you, Gerald. And there would be no question of taking money or anything like that. I engraved a silver plate and he didn’t want to take it but I convinced him to take it for his family. I’m very grateful to him for that.

Do you remember his death well?

I remember the day he died like it was yesterday, it happened not far away from here. I was in the shop when I heard it that morning and I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t. It was a huge shock – for the whole city really. 

I never saw the like of the scenes at the removal and the crowds, you wouldn’t believe them. People lining both sides of Patrick’s Street, Bridge Street, McCurtain Street, we’d never seen the like since Terence MacSwiney. I drove down to Cloyne but I couldn’t get near the cemetery. Not for love nor money could I get close. The crowds were incredible. And he deserved all of that, he gave his life to it. He did indeed.

What’s your abiding memory of Christy Ring?

His passion. The fire in his eyes. And him poking me in the shoulder when he was telling me something. I’ll always remember that. My favourite memory of him was after final in 1976, on the train coming back down. His passion when he talked about moving Jimmy out on Mick Jacob. Ah, you’d want to have seen it, you really would.

Will we ever see another Christy Ring?

No. Ah, no. I don’t think anybody will ever equal his passion, his drive and his achievements. Nobody. Not a hope.”

Gerald stood up, I stood up. The interview was over. Gerald turned to look at the photo on the wall. For a moment he was lost in memory and time.

‘No. Never,’ he said, shaking his head. He looked at me, his eyes moist with emotion.

‘There’ll never be another Christy Ring.’

- You can purchase the Irish Examiner's 20-page special publication to mark the centenary of Christy Ring's birth with your Friday edition of the Irish Examiner in stores or from our epaper site.