Memory Man

by Jimmy Magee

  The fight itself was a huge success, as was the terrestrial boxing coverage. They have now signed a new contract to do it more regularly; so I missed out badly on that one. I didn’t do it because I believe that the umbilical cord is still attached to RTE, that in my head I think I still owe them something.

  ——

  I also worked for Croatian television at the World Cup of Athletics in 2010. They have an English-language service, and they asked me to do the commentary for them, which was a brilliant experience.

  I’m on the Executive Board of the European Sports Journalists’ Association, and I was appointed in 2011 to AIIPS, which is the world body, and to its new Ethics Commission for Sports Journalism. On it there is a Swiss solicitor, an Austrian professional and myself. I am the president of the World Sports Ethics Commission.

  What is ethics? Staying away from brown envelopes!

  I have to travel quite a bit in these roles, and in November that year I was invited to Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, for countless official dinners. There was toast after toast: it seemed that after every mouthful there was a toast. This guy was explaining to me about the toasts. ‘When you stand up to say a toast you have to say something that applies to the time we are in or to somebody at the table. It has to be relevant.’

  Eventually I had to make a toast. I began with ‘I am very pleased to be making a toast. I come from Ireland, and as you are holding the Eurovision Song Contest next year I am more entitled to speak of the Eurovision than anyone else, because Ireland has won it more times than anyone else.’

  ‘Johnny Logan!’ they all began shouting. I thought it was amazing to discover he was a household name in that part of the world. I told them that I knew Johnny Logan, because he had played football with the All-Stars. For the record, he was a good player.

  I get great enjoyment out of the success and the admiration that these Irish stars receive around the world. I was once in Madison Square Garden in New York at a function, and the announcer said that that they had the ‘chairman of the boards’ with them tonight. Who’s that? you’re probably wondering. There’s only one chairman of the boards: Eamonn Coghlan. At the mere mention of his moniker every person stood up in the stadium and gave him a standing ovation. I was impressed that an Irishman who had long since retired, and wasn’t one of their own, was so warmly received.

  EPILOGUE

  I’ve done a lot of firsts in my time. I covered the first indoor world track and field championships. Funnily enough, I was at the 1977 Grand National when Red Rum became the first and only horse to win it for the third time. I was covering the match when Ajax won the Champions League (called the European Cup back then) for the third consecutive time in 1973, and in 1976 when Bayern Munich did likewise.

  With regard to covering the FA cup final, unfortunately I can’t claim to be the first but I can lay claim to being the second broadcaster to cover an FA cup final for RTE. I covered the 1967 final between Chelsea and Spurs, which had its own ‘first’: it was, surprisingly, the first time the FA cup final had been contested by two teams from London, which is a hard one to believe.

  What was the greatest moment of my career? I don’t think there is a greatest: there are a lot of big ones. Every four years there’s the Olympic Games, which are just fantastic. Every sport has its world championship, but the Olympics transcend everything, and almost everyone in the world has an interest in them. Doing the world championship boxing matches is also special for me. I really enjoyed doing the Superstars programme, the Tour de France, the World Cups. It’s hard to single out any event. I’ve enjoyed it all, every single moment.

  While putting this book together I was preparing to go over to the Olympics in London. At the beginning of the 2000s I declared that my ambition was to see one more Olympic Games. Sure I’ve seen three more since then—2004, 2008 and 2012—and hopefully I’ll make it through another decade of Olympics. At the moment I’m able to work and am not affected by anything.

  I’m seventy-seven, going on fifty-seven! I haven’t changed really in the last twenty years. Thankfully, I’m still healthy and full of zest to continue working. What keeps me going is the future. What am I going to be doing in the future? Where am I going to be? To be in London this year (2012), to be in Brazil in 2014 for the World Cup, and to be in Rio in 2016 for the next Olympic Games after London. I intend to keep going until I’m not able to work any more. I want to work until my last breath—although I don’t want to die like that, necessarily: I’d prefer a bit of time lying in bed so I can prepare properly to meet St Peter at the Pearly Gates. Hopefully there’ll be a sports broadcasting station in Heaven that will be hiring when it’s my time to go there.

  Sometimes I hear myself on shows, such as ‘Reeling In the Years’, and I’m amazed to hear that my voice hasn’t changed at all during the intervening years; it hasn’t got tenors and baritones, as you might expect. So why stop, unless you’re annoying people or somebody doesn’t like you any more?

  It quite annoys me when people dictate whether or not you are able to do something because of your age. It also annoys me when people say something along the lines of ‘God, he’s very young to be playing in a big match like that. He’s only eighteen!’ Or ‘Your man’s too old at thirty-eight to be still playing, isn’t he?’

  But can he play? Well, if he can play under pressure he’s good enough. I don’t care what age they are, as long as they can play.

  It annoys me to think that people might start tagging me in a similar fashion, because I’m firmly convinced that if you’re able to do something you’re able to do it, irrespective of what age you are.

  Of course the natural order of things is that people are at their best maybe between their mid-twenties and mid-thirties, and I wouldn’t argue with that. For me there are six senses: all the five senses that everyone else has, and then there’s the sixth sense, called common sense. What I mean is, if you’re able to do it you should continue doing it until you’re not able to do it any more. I think you’ll know yourself when your time has come—when you’ve mislaid stuff or made a couple of mistakes, even if nobody else notices them. It’s time then to take a long, hard look in the mirror.

  Look at our fabulous president, Michael D. Higgins. He was the oldest candidate in the presidential election in 2011, but he was clearly also the best person for the job, getting an unprecedented million votes. Not bad for someone in his seventies!

  Before that election I was flabbergasted to be approached and asked if I’d consider running for the presidency. Two particular influential groups asked me if I would be interested in going for it. It had never entered my head. Sure why would it? The presidency! What right would I have? I’d have no right to do something like that. I laughed, in fact, when I was asked.

  Shortly after that I was at an event in Castlebar when the Taoiseach, Enda Kenny, came over and sat down beside me, and we began to chat. He said to me, ‘There’s a rumour going around that you’ve been asked to run for the presidency.’

  I admitted that that was indeed true, and he told me, ‘You’d do well.’

  Perhaps he was only saying that to be nice to me, but it got me thinking all the same, and I sounded out a few close friends and family members.

  A good friend very wisely asked me, ‘Would you like all your private life to be open to scrutiny?’ This was long before the publicity of the campaign kicked off and turned the election into one of the most vicious ever, with personal attacks and probing into the candidates’ lives. ‘No, I wouldn’t fancy that—even though I’ve nothing to hide,’ I replied.

  ‘Forget about running for president so!’

  That was good advice, and I took it. I thanked God I didn’t enter the race when I saw all those people being knocked: Mary Davis because she was on a few boards; Dana because of her brother; David Norris because of his outspoken views and that infamous clemency letter for his former lover; and Seán Gallagher for his connections with Fianna Fáil.

  I’m
planning to take one last major sojourn, which I’m describing in my head—as I used to do all those years ago when I did pretend commentary as a young boy—as the Jimmy Magee Farewell Tour, for want of a more original title.

  You might be asking yourself now, A farewell to what? I want to revisit where I have enjoyed in my life, to go back to some of the events I have loved, to go to some of the places that I always wanted to go to and never did. It will take at least four years, and it will culminate in the Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro in 2016. I’ll be eighty-one years old by then, but knowing me I’ll probably have thought of some other mad scheme to do to keep me going.

  Last year I was listening to a man called John McCarthy from Cork on the radio talking about his battle with motor neurone disease, which took my son. He was very interesting and funny as he talked about the things he still wanted to do. Though he was very positive and hands-on in everything he does, that is one thing I don’t want to happen to me—anything but that, please God.

  Without wanting to sound morbid, I’ve already thought about how I would like my funeral to be. I’d like to have a Dixieland jazz band playing at the cemetery, and then I would like a really good George Jones country song, sung by Ray Lynam, with its poignant lyrics, ‘He Stopped Loving Her Today’.

  And then to finish the musical party for my funeral I’m going to have tenors singing, so nobody could say I didn’t give them variety.

  Images

  Connie Lynch, Mike Murphy, Nobby Stiles, T. J. Byrne, Shay Brennan (RIP), myself and Alex Stepney in Dublin after Manchester United won the European Cup in 1968.

  These glasses have come back into fashion; George Best liked them!

  Jimmy Magee All-Stars at Croke Park in the early 1970s. Back row (left to right): Greg Hughes, Gene Stuart, Jimmy Swarbrigg, Maurice Reidy, Pat O’Donovan, Paul Magee, Ian Corrigan, Father Brian D’Arcy, Tom Hickey, Gerry Reynolds, Father Michael Cleary, Frank Murphy, Noel McCaul, Brian Harkin, Brendan Shine, Joe McCadden, Mick Leech, ‘Gregory’ and Seán Óg Ó Ceallacháin. Front row: Shay Healy, Dermot O’Brien, Steve Duggan, Peter Sheridan, Johnny Dawson (kneeling), Denis Ryan, myself with my son Mark on my knee, Frankie Byrne, Maureen Potter (kneeling), Gerry O’Byrne, Art Supple, Harry Ramsbottom and Connie Lynch.

  Francina Blankers-Koen, ‘Flying Fanny’, the first woman athlete to win four Olympic gold medals, in 1948, chatting to me in her apartment in Amsterdam.

  Racing commentary in Hong Kong.

  Balance, eye on the ball, follow through—fitness oozing from every pore; where does this man fit in the all-time hot million!

  Pelé, Paul van Himst of Belgium and Johan Cruyff wave to the crowd after the van Himst farewell match, 26 March 1975.

  Myself and one of Ireland’s greatest sportspeople, the cyclist Seán Kelly.

  With the winner of the 1987 Tour de France, Stephen Roche, on the Nissan Tour.

  When the Magees were together. Back: Mark, June, Paul (RIP). Front: Patricia, Marie (RIP), myself, Linda.

  Left to right: The secretary of the Jimmy Magee All-Stars, Liam Campbell, myself, the singer Brendan Bowyer and showbiz manager Connie Lynch plan the All-Stars’ visit to Las Vegas in 1989.

  Larry Gogan, long-established icon of music on record.

  Jack Charlton tells me how it’s got to be.

  Conor O’Dwyer, Seán Boyle, Peter O’Neill, Gerard Cooke, myself and Tim O’Connor with Redundant Pal in the winner’s enclosure at Leopardstown after winning the Ladbroke. (Courtesy of Healy Racing Photography)

  Giacinto Facchetti, captain of the 1970 Italian World Cup team, and Bobby Charlton receive awards for their contribution to football at a ceremony in Rome in 1990.

  Boxers Wayne McCullough (silver medal) and Michael Carruth (gold) renew memories of the 1992 Barcelona Olympics with the commentator.

  Harry Thuillier, the man who gave me my first break and remained a favourite character.

  Showing the red card at the 2000 Garda Sportstar Awards.

  Myself and Olympic swimmer Michelle Smith de Bruin in 2003 launching my video Greatest Sporting Memories, the proceeds of which go to the 3Ts (Turning the Tide of Suicide), an organisation that creates awareness, research and education about suicide. (© Ray McManus/Sportsfile)

  Myself and Eamonn Coghlan on my seventieth birthday in 2005. (© Ray McManus/Sportsfile)

  2006: Mike Tyson trying to stare me into submission—or is he jealous that I had more hair than him? (© Collins Photos)

  Myself, Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh and Brian Carthy celebrating RTE Radio’s eightieth year of GAA championship coverage in 2006. (© Matt Browne/Sportsfile)

  Sporting Legends: Members of the 1956 Irish Olympics team honoured in 2006 by the Association of Sports Journalists in Ireland. Back (left to right): Peter Byrne (president of the ASJI), Dermot Sherlock (Olympic Council of Ireland), Ronnie Delany, Pat Sharkey, Rossa O’Reilly (son of the late Brendan O’Reilly), Harry Perry. Centre: Fred Tiedt Junior (son of the late Fred Tiedt), Freddie Gilroy, myself, Tony ‘Socks’ Byrne. Front: John Sommers Payne, Maeve Kyle, Niamh Kinsella (daughter of Eamon Kinsella), Jocelyn Emerson, Sandra Martina (daughter of Gerry Martina), Johnny Caldwell. (© Brendan Moran/Sportsfile)

  My late son Paul and his son David walking into the unknown. Ger O’Driscoll captured this very special picture of one man heading for the next world and a young man stepping into his future. (Courtesy of Geraldine O’Driscoll)

  A photograph that I treasure: the last occasion on which Paul stood on his own feet. He insisted on standing between myself and Mark, although wheelchair-bound at the time. (Courtesy of Beta Bajgartova)

  All five of my children: (from left) Patricia, Mark, Paul, June and Linda, and three of my eleven grandchildren, Sinéad, David and Sarah. (Courtesy of Beta Bajgartova)

  Congratulating Andy Lee after victory over Alejandro Falliga, 2008. (© David Maher/Sportsfile)

  Seán Crowley (secretary) and Dominic O’Rourke (president) make me a presentation on behalf of the Irish Amateur Boxing Association.

  The legendary trainer Freddie Roche, Bernard Dunne and Dunne’s manager and promoter, Brian Peters.

  Launching the coverage of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, with Eamonn Coghlan, Katie Taylor, Bernard Dunne and Sonia O’Sullivan. (© Inpho/Lorraine O’Sullivan)

  The Olympic silver medallist Kenny Egan and myself at the official opening of Neilstown Boxing Club, Dublin. (© David Maher/Sportsfile)

  October 2010: When Ali met Jimmy, he won!

  Meeting President Michael D. Higgins, with Seán Crowley, before the finals of the 2012 National Elite Boxing Championship. (© David Maher/Sportsfile)

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thanks to Assumpta and Kevin O’Brien and family for kindness and understanding, particularly in difficult times.

  To Mary Rose and Pat McParland for a lifetime of friendship.

  To all at RTE and the Sunday World.

  To members of the All-Stars for more than forty years of devotion and loyalty.

  To Eimear O’Mahony for the caring job on TV’S ‘Different Class’.

  To Doctors O’Rourke and Quigley and my great friend Father Brian D’Arcy, caring for me, body and soul.

  To Ciara Drennan who transcribed the tapes.

  To Jason O’Toole who understood it all.

  Gill & Macmillan

  Hume Avenue

  Park West

  Dublin 12

  Ireland

  with associated companies throughout the world

  www.gillmacmillanbooks.ie

  © Jimmy Magee 2012

  First published by Gill & Macmillan 2012

  This ebook edition published by Gill & Macmillan 2012

  978 07171 5352 7 (print)

  978 07171 5353 4 (epub)

  978 07171 5354 1 (mobi)

  Cover design by www.grahamthew.com

  Cover image courtesy of Geraldine O’Driscoll, Milestones & Moments Photography

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be c
opied, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission of the publishers.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  The website addresses referred to in this book were correct at the time of first publication.

  About the Authors

  Jimmy Magee is an institution in Irish broadcasting life. He was born in New York in 1935. Three years later the family returned to Ireland and settled in the Cooley Peninsula in Co. Louth. Jimmy’s early working experiences were in a pharmacy in Carlingford and as a railway clerk in Greenore. But his dream was always to work in radio, and by 1957 he managed to fulfil that dream.

  His varied and much-travelled life, as it evolved, is told in this memoir, including his 11 Olympic Games, 12 FIFA World Cups, 29 European Cup finals, 11 athletics world championships, 30 world title fights and 10 Tours de France.