Big Mick Galwey will be honoured this Friday evening in Castleisland when a traffic roundabout at Dooneen will be dedicated to him. Here, John O’Mahony looks at the great man’s career and reflects how the GAA’s loss was most certainly international rugby’s gain.
DID you hear the one about the Kerryman who chose Phil Coulter and not the Artane Boys’ Band as the source of his personal sporting anthem?
That a giant of a man, 6’ 4” in his socks, with shovel hands, from the acknowledged spiritual home of the GAA, would pass up on a promising career in a green and gold jersey became a source of some amusement for peak-capped traditionalists with weather-beaten faces.
That he would do so in favour of another sporting code, in its not-so-glamorous pre-professional form, made it all the more difficult to comprehend.
It provided a real conversation gem for his neighbours in the tranquil village of Currow, where the issues of the day are analysed and dissected from a worn stonewall perch on Reidy’s Bridge, overlooking the Brown Flesk river.
An accomplished Gaelic footballer at club, district and inter-county level, Mick Galwey, the son of a blacksmith whose mother ran a busy sweet shop next door to the parish church, had the Gaelic world at his feet.
Graduating from minor ranks with a county championship medal won with Castleisland District in 1984, a young man of his sheer size and strength found the transition to the senior game nothing more than a natural follow on.
Under Mick O’Dwyer and in the dying days of the golden years era, he sampled 10 minutes of senior championship action against Meath in the All-Ireland semi-final of 1986, sprung from the bench to find the formidable Mick Lyons waiting to exchange pleasantries.
But, much to his disappointment, he remained on the sideline when Kerry progressed to clinch the title against Tyrone, his Croke Park frustration tempered somewhat by the fact that he had a silver cross in his back pocket going home.
He went on to play a hugely influential role when unfashionable St Kieran’s shocked Killarney’s Dr Crokes in the Kerry senior championship decider in October 1988. That day in Tralee, Galwey patrolled and controlled midfield with such authority that many felt he should have been rewarded with the man-of-the-match award. Some still argue that he was deprived of that gong because, by that stage, his loyalties were split between Gaelic and rugby.
Galwey soon turned his considerable frame exclusively in the direction of the rugby pitch – and the rest is history.
But in making the transition to the oval ball, he was not only following his heart, but chasing a childhood dream to emulate the achievements of his two accomplished Currow neighbours, Moss Keane and Mick Doyle.
When sporting legends like Con Houlihan and Mick and Tom Doyle were in short pants, rugby was played with great regularity and fierce rivalry in Castleisland but interest waned until a spirited 1980’s revival, led by local enthusiasts John Browne and Timothy Herlihy.
Galwey was their first recruit and a succession of sterling displays for the Island quickly came to the attention of the Munster under age team selectors.
Shannon soon came calling, Munster sat up and took notice, and very soon Mick Galwey had to make the choice he had been dreading. He chose wisely.
“He kept on playing both codes for as long as he could but, eventually, the choice had to be made. He was trying to lose weight to play football in the summer and put it on again for rugby in the winter and it all became too much,” one close friend recalled.
The old adage that fame needs no fanfares certainly applied in the case of Galwey who subsequently rose to the pinnacle of international rugby.
But, despite all the fame and adulation, the gentle giant remained as modest and as affable as when he first lined out in the black and amber of Currow.
The high regard in which Galwey is held in his native village was best exemplified on a chilly end of March night in 1993 when the entire parish, and more besides, turned out to celebrate his inclusion in the Lions squad to tour New Zealand.
Bonfires lit up the night sky, children chanted his name from the safety of their fathers’ shoulders and a cake was sliced and devoured in his honour in the banner-bedecked community centre.
Mick Galwey appeared bemused if not embarrassed by the adulation but he was quickly put at ease when another local legend, Moss Keane, since passed on, climbed upon the stage to share the limelight.
On leaving Castleisland Vocational School, Mick’s first job was alongside another sporting legend as he set about his daily chores in Charlie Nelligan’s bakery in Castleisland.
When his sporting profile increased substantially, a drinks company came calling and he went on the road as a rep.
He followed the business route before the advent of the professional game demanded his undivided loyalty.
A dedicated family man, Galwey – soon to celebrate his 49th birthday is married to Joan Corkery from Ballydaly, near Millstreet, and they live close to Kilkenny city with their family.
He became the powerhouse around which gloriously successful Shannon, Munster and Ireland teams were built and the Currow man has proved that the best forces in life are often the most mature
Throughout his playing career he possessed an indomitable spirit that kept coming into view as the lock continually showed that age is no barrier when soul and ability are your weapons.
It’s now well over 25 years since Michael Galwey from Currow sat down and decided to opt for a rugby career rather that pursue a sporting journey as a county footballer.
And out of that decision a terrible beauty was born.
