Remembering Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh, trainer and sports psychologist

Tribute

Pat McGovern, UCD and Shannon Gaels, 1986-89, shares his memories of the late, iconic Micheál Ó Muircheartaigh.

The news of Mícheál’s death brought back memories of training in Belfield as well as a reminder to be careful with first impressions. I was a student in UCD and having made it onto the Sigerson squad I got invited to come along to training with the Dublin-based Kerry and Mayo players. Of course, I knew of Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh from his distinctive radio commentary on GAA matches but I knew nothing about him as a trainer. I’ll admit I wasn’t that impressed when I first joined. Mícheál often brought some of his children along and this seemed odd. The initial sessions were much too easy going and not as demanding as Sigerson training where the amount of running made me wonder if we were really going for athletic titles.

But as the weeks went by the intensity went up and up and then it went up some more. Some of the Kerry players were insanely competitive. When you get to a certain level, every player will be highly competitive but perhaps not on every single race. The shuttle sprints made me think there was hardly an honest footballer in Kerry as they kept trying to steal a couple of inches at the start.

The exception was Mick Spillane who could give most of us a yard and still win. Inevitably, there would have to be some guidance from Mícheál: ‘now Vincent, you can take a step back, so you are level with everyone else.’ There were no cross words whatever the irritation. It took me a little while to get used to it and it was only when I started coaching myself that appreciated what our teacher was doing.

Now there were some very funny characters in the group, notably Kevin McStay and Dermot ‘Big D’ Hanafin, and the banter in the changing rooms was often hilarious. Occasionally, the craic might start up between drills or on failing to execute some skill. Mícheál would smile quietly and let the lads have their moment before continuing.

Then, of course there was the distinctive Ó Muircheartaigh voice with its unmistakeable west Kerry accent. Away from training we loved to imitate it: ‘Now Jacko, you’ll only do sixty of these; let the rest do the hundred.’ But focusing on the accent made you overlook one of the reasons why Mícheál was a truly great communicator - every word was pronounced fully in every sentence.

There was never any confusion. The instructions were always clear and usually kept quite simple. There was no need to shout or raise voices. The master held everyone’s respect, including the children who were never a distraction. If anything, they added to the relatively relaxed atmosphere.

Though everyone was treated the same, he would occasionally call one of the Kerry players to the side of the group for a quiet word, often before a big championship game. I can remember overhearing him talking to Jack O’Shea: ‘Now Jacko, you are moving really well. You are travelling over the ground really well and I don’t think there is anyone really that can stay with you.’ Whether it was because the words were delivered by a man who had watched hundreds of players or because he could deliver them with such quiet authority, you could see they meant something to Jacko. The effect was subtle and yet you found yourself craving similar words. Pride being what it is I can even remember the evening I got such praise, having surprised everyone, including myself, by having a good half hour marking Barry Coffey (Cork) in the game at the end of the session game. I walked off feeling I could mix it with the best, at least until the next session.

In the Spring of 1989, I asked Mícheál if my Shannon Gaels clubmate Cormac McGoldrick could join in the training. It was now or never in the championship because I already knew I was leaving for Oxford in the autumn. Mícheál was interested to know where the club was located and not knowing west Cavan, I explained that we did our shopping more in Leitrim than in Cavan. He was glad to help us. We played some glorious football on the way to the final where we managed to upset the odds and beat a fancied Shercock team. Memorable scenes followed as we took the cup across Glan Gap for the first time. But the training was so much part of my routine in those years that I turned up in Belfield a week later. Mícheál wanted to know the result and was genuinely delighted to hear that we had won. We were only a small club hidden in the Cuilcagh mountains and yet he made it seem to me like we were one of the most important in the country.

Looking back, I realised that the skills that made Ó Muircheartaigh a good secondary school teacher and radio commentator also made him a good trainer. But he was more than that. Today, we would say that he was a natural sports psychologist. There was fun, and banter was permitted, but the players were given ownership of the standards and had to set them week in, week out. Sometimes we were reminded of how well we had trained the previous week. Again, the message was subtle but powerful. But what I shall remember most was this extraordinary ability to give praise. I can still remember the effect it had on that warm summer evening thirty-five years ago. A belated thank you Mícheál. R.I.P.

Some of the regulars: Padraig Brogan (Mayo); Barry Coffey (Cork) Dermot Flanagan (Mayo), Dermot Hanafin (Kerry); Sean Maher (Mayo); Michael McAuliffe (Kerry); Padraig McKeon (Shamrock Gaels, Sligo); Frank McNamee (UCD and Longford); Tony McNally (Mayo); Kevin McStay (Mayo); Ciaran Murray (Monaghan); Tomás Ó Flatharta (An Ghaeltacht, Kerry) Jack O’Shea (Kerry); Noel O’Mahoney (Kerry); Mike O’Leary (UCD and St Marys, Cahirsiveen, RIP); Vincent O’Connor, (Kerry, when visiting Dublin); Seamus Rogers (UCD and St Pauls, Lurgan); Mick Spillane (Kerry).