WHEN you’re young and out for the night, that night – if it’s a good one – starts with getting ready in the house, builds steadily on the trip to a bar or nightclub and continues while you queue to get in.
It’s a long time ago now when I was in the queue for the Students Union at that revered bastion of third level education, The University of Humberside, where myself and my fellow Poyntzpass exile Brian Magennis – two green-as-grass country boys away from home for the first time - were first year students.
While we were queueing, I struck up a conversation with a couple of girls ahead of me in the line. It was all good natured chat and then, out of the blue, this fella grabbed me by the throat and pinned me up against the wall.
He’d obviously misheard or misinterpreted my Irish banter and a battering for yours truly was imminent. Then, like a flash, Brian came in like The Equaliser. He grabbed the guy by the scruff of his neck and suddenly it was him who was up against the wall.
Brian, who no doubt had been conducting his own banter before he intervened, had a way of curling his bottom lip into a snarl that had scared the life out of many a corner-forward before we went to Hull.
He wasn’t a particularly big fella, or a fighter really but he put the wind up my would-be assailant. Just like that, there was no problem at all. Yer man backed off and we immediately got back to enjoying our night.
If you have somebody who will stick up for you like Brian did then you know you have a real friend.
He was great craic too.
Another night, we were queueing up as usual when word came out that the club was full and nobody else was getting in.
Myself and Brian took matters into our own hands. We went around the back of the building, shimmied up a drainpipe, walked across the roof, dropped down through a skylight into the men’s toilets and strolled into the club like lords of the manor.
We spent the entire first term sleeping on the floor of Eamon Tierney’s (brother of Armagh goalie Benny) room before we eventually got a mouse-infested house (yes, Brian sorted out the mice) with two English lads after Christmas.
At the end of the year our time in Hull came to a conclusion when Brian transferred to Coleraine.
I wanted to do the same but they (the fools) wouldn’t accept me and so we parted ways. I wished him luck, but I missed him. Apart from everything else I had to learn to fend for myself because Brian had done all the cooking. I literally couldn’t boil a spud.
Getting back to playing football for the club was a massive part of Brian’s decision to study at home.
Coming from a family steeped in the best traditions of the GAA, he was one of that rare breed who goes to the AGM as a teenager and he maintained that commitment to the club.
On the field we made our senior debuts in the same season. Those were the days when even the rumour of a first whisker on your chin made you eligible for selection. I was 16, I’d say he was 15 and, guided by club stalwarts like Eugene Convery, ‘Big Dan’ (Danny Smyth) and Damian Canavan, we were straight into the Division Four battles.
It’s the biggest compliment I can pay to Brian as a footballer to say that he was as wholehearted a player as has ever taken the field and his you-shall-not-pass attitude is the benchmark by which I judge all defenders.
He could not stand losing football matches. He just couldn’t. Whether it was as player, manager or supporter of O’Hanlon’s, and to a slightly lesser extent Armagh, when the oul red mist came down there was no turning him, that’s just the way he was.
The essence of the GAA – the magic that makes it so special – is in the passion he had and there were occasional rows with opponents, officials and rival spectators but half-an-hour later he could meet the same person again and they would see the real Brian, genuinely the nicest fella you could meet.
After graduating from Coleraine, Brian spent time in Australia.
He won a championship Down Under and when he came home he did the same with our club. Fittingly, he was captain in 1997 when O’Hanlon’s won their first, and only, championship title.
We love a fearless full-back in the GAA and he had all the qualities required for the role. He had great hands and good feet, he was an inspirational leader who was ferocious in the tackle.
But it was his will to win that set him apart on the field, he would never give in and he displayed that same courage and spirit when he became ill and battled his way through pancreatic cancer.
He was given the all-clear four years ago and enjoyed the time since with his wife Margaret, sons Daniel and Ben and his family and friends. He returned to his successful career and was part of the senior team management last season.
Sadly, the cancer returned late in 2024 and this time there was no happy ending, Brian passed away a couple of weeks ago.
A stalwart of our club and community, he was hugely respected and admired in the business world and only a few months ago had been appointed Commercial Director at GM Marketing. So many tributes have been written about him on social media by colleagues highlighting his hard work, commitment and ability but more so his kindness, decency and humanity.
Right to the end, he was positive and he spoke about how he hoped the tests doctors carried out on him would help people in the same situation – and that could be any of us – who came after him.
Throughout his life, his faith was rock-solid and the out-pouring of emotion at his wake and funeral – the biggest I’ve seen in our community - showed the esteem in which he was held far and wide.
A decent person and a brilliant, humble fella, you’d always want him on your side and I can’t imagine he’ll have had any problem at the Pearly Gates.
But if there’s a queue up there and trouble starts… Well, Brian Magennis is your man.
