My friend and room-mate, Moss Keane

I OFTEN wondered what those people working in the high-rise office block behind the Shelbourne Hotel thought of it all.

For a few of us it became a bit of a ritual when big Mossie would open the bedroom window every Friday morning before a home international and let out such a primal roar at those positioned behind their desks that his ranting could possibly be heard at home in Kerry. It was a few years later that I appreciated that was his way of easing the tension and distracting the younger players on the eve of the big occasion.

Moss Keane – mad, mischievous, marauding, magnificent. His passing early yesterday morning after a typically-brave fight with illness will be felt by so many people from home and abroad. The word legend and phrases such as “larger than life” are often used when describing the passing of famous figures in Irish society. In Moss Keane’s case, they don’t even come close.

It’s not often that one actually gets to play with one of his sporting heroes but I was fortunate to live that dream. When Moss was selected in the second row of an Irish scrum for the very first time with the mighty Willie John McBride back in 1974, I was competing for a place in the second row of the Christians junior cup team. I never imagined for one minute that I would one day share the thrill of packing down with the giant from Currow for both Munster and Ireland. It was a privilege and honour to do so for a number of very exciting and rewarding seasons. To be in Mossy’s presence was always an enlightening experience. Sharing a hotel bedroom was a challenge in itself – memorable, always fun and full of incident. The games were almost a sideshow.

In the modern age of supplements and protein drinks, Moss was very much ahead of his time and in the days before an international always had his garlic pills, pollen tablets and some other concoction that I could never figure out, ready for consumption on his bedside locker. He took great pleasure in showing me the quality of his latest consignment of eggs and would have two raw in a glass with a drop of milk or orange juice every morning. Sometimes the farm straw was still stuck to them.

I passed on that one.

When Moss was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer back in February 2009 it came as a great shock not only to himself and his immediate family but to a whole host of close friends, former players and acquaintances of whom there are so many. To those of us fortunate to play with him, we deemed him indestructible. It just made no sense that this colossal hulk of a man could in some way be vulnerable.

When Ireland won the Triple Crown and the Five Nations championship in 1982, Moss was not only the heart and soul of the team but was also one of the key leaders within the experienced senior players. Given that I was 11 years his junior, it would have been easy for him to dismiss the inexperienced presence of this rookie from Cork. I did, however, have my uses. He would roar at Robbie McGrath and the great Ollie Campbell and remind them that the average age of the second row was less than that of the half backs. Big guffaw and off with him.

The fact that my father was a fellow Kerryman, in addition to the fact that I was playing for UCC – where Moss took his first tentative steps in the game with the Bulldogs – meant that he was always going to look out for me. He couldn’t have been more supportive. I will never forget him for that.

As a combination we worked well together with Moss allowing me to dictate where I jumped in our lineout on the basis that I would mark the opposition’s main ball-winner on their throw. We had a good understanding that extended on and off the field.

He was an amazing character in so many ways and his passing will be felt by the entire Irish rugby community and beyond. His transition from a raw gaelic footballer as a fresher in UCC to Irish international and Lion within the space of a few short years was truly remarkable, an inspiration to many. His attachment to the Kerry jersey was loud and proud and he hated being reminded of the fact that he created a bit of history of his own when he lined out in a Kerry side beaten in an All-Ireland junior football final by Wicklow. I assured him that was the real reason he took up rugby. The Kingdom survived the defection but he never lost his love for the football tradition. His comment while on the rain-lashed Lions tour of New Zealand in 1977 reminded us of this. When asked for his highlight of the three month expedition he said it was when word filtered through that Kerry had beaten Cork in the Munster final.

The last year has been a difficult one for the Keane family while Moss dealt with demanding circumstances with pragmaticism and humour. Only this day last week I was fortunate to spend an hour with him at his home in Portarlington with another close friend of his, dating back to those early footballing days in UCC, Dr Con Murphy. It was clear then that he hadn’t much time left but that hour was precious as we recalled some great times and hilarious moments. He was still capable of putting you away with his sharp wit.

His loss will affect a wide range of people not least his lovely wife Anne and daughters Sarah and Ann Marie. Irish sport has lost a true champion and one of its most endearing characters of all time. Our Irish team re-unions will never be the same again and Moss will never be forgotten. They just don’t make them like him anymore.

May he rest in peace.