I DIDN’T have the pleasure of interviewing Sean McGuinness until last year, partly because his second spell in charge of his native Antrim’s senior hurlers ended several weeks before I joined The Irish News in 1998.
However, I did speak to him once when he made an irate call to the office. Tellingly, it wasn’t anything written about him that had provoked his ire, but a colleague’s description of driving through west Belfast.
Fiercely protective and proud of his area, Sean wasn’t having it. Yet, unlike many who would have harangued me, even though I wasn’t the author of the article, Sean listened to my explanation that no offence had been intended, and we had a calm, civil conversation and parted on friendly terms.
Last year, when Covid cancelled all games, Sean McGuinness’s name and fame came to my mind again, and I sought out his number; I’m so glad I did.
The articles which ensued included the top 15 hurlers he’d managed. Typically, the selection wasn’t predictable, showcasing the strength of Sean’s opinions. Some big names were missing, with only four Antrim players chosen, the explanation offered that they hadn’t played much under him. Yet he still picked two Saffron surprises, the late James McNaughton and the skilful Tony McGrath.
Perhaps he saw a kindred spirit in the latter, who also stepped away from Antrim on a point of principle, as Sean did in 1986, leaving a team which had seriously shaken Cork in the All-Ireland semi-final.
He had a wonderful way with words, a turn of phrase which painted pictures and also brought a smile to your face.
Among the descriptions of the players he had picked to praise were these gems:
‘He runs a butcher’s shop in Portaferry, but he’s never ever threw me a few steaks…’
‘He gave you everything; when he came off you could wring his shirt out.’
‘He would have put his hand where you wouldn’t have put a spade.’
‘The only thing he didn’t catch was pigeons.’
The other pieces our conversations produced - a feature on his life and background, and another on his time with Down - were fairly easy to write too, mostly being exercises in transcription.
Sean McGuinness was a born story-teller.
Sadly that unmistakable voice, punctuated regularly by throaty chuckles, has been silenced by his death on Monday morning.
Obviously there are plenty of articles with and about Sean from the Eighties and Nineties in the newspaper archives, and David Mohan of the Andersonstown News wrote a lovely piece with Sean when he ended his managerial career in 2012 which you should seek out on the internet.
Still, it seems scant enough coverage for such an interesting, influential man; he truly did deserve to have a book written about him.
Happily, his legend will live on in the memories of those who knew him, his family, his friends, his players, all those to whom he brought his love of hurling.
When they gather to say farewell to him, there’ll be old tales told and recollections stirred.
Noel Sands, captain under Sean McGuinness when Down famously won the Ulster Senior Hurling Championship in 1992, quite rightly said that ‘You could talk for hours about him.’
You will, you will.
Even a short conversation with ‘Sandsy’ on Monday produced colourful anecdotes, as well as touching insights into why players loved the man so much.
“He had some great sayings: once he was asked if his team was going to win and he replied ‘Does the Queen have soldiers?’ That at a time when that sort of comment mightn’t have gone down well.”
Indeed, when he took up with Down in late 1989 those were often dark times, but Sean worried about others, not himself, as Sands recalled: “He travelled down from Belfast for training and matches, at a time when the Troubles were still going on. GAA players were being targeted and he said to me, ‘You better watch out with your face in the paper, you might be targeted’.” Note the lack of concern for himself…
Sean never took life, or himself, too seriously anyway, only hurling. “The boys used to keep him going something shocking. Something he said would be all around the camp. He’s just one of those immense characters, a sad loss,” says Sands.
It’s easy to praise the departed - but with Sean McGuinness the evidence was there, as Sands attests:
“He couldn’t do enough for you; if he could do something for you, he would.”
He’d rope others in too, as Sands remembers: “I did my level one coaching under him up at St Malachy’s College [Belfast]. I wasn’t that long married and I took off my wedding ring, put it in the pocket of my jacket, and it must have popped out, I couldn’t find it.
“He asked me what I was looking for and, when I told him, he says, ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get all the lads out here in like a big police line and we’ll see if we can find it for you’.
“Everybody was heading in but he called them back and we went up this gravel pitch and managed to find it - that got me out of a hole!”
Next example: “He was a kind, generous man.
“I remember my wife and Mary Jo, Marty [Mallon]’s wife, came down to our hotel, we were staying somewhere like Tipperary or Offaly at the time. Their room was a disaster, it wasn’t right for them, and they went to see Sean.
“Sean was rooming with Danny Hughes, and said ‘You can have our room, we’ll move out’. But I think Sean forgot to tell Danny that the rooms had been changed over.
“When Danny appeared later, with a few drinks in him, he went to that original room and knocked the door. Mary Jo answered, said ‘Danny, go away’ - and Danny said ‘Mary Jo, what are you doing in there with Sean McGuinness?!’”
The real love of Sean’s life was his wife Eileen, his children and grandchildren.
As Sands remembers, Sean often brought some of his offspring to training, so they got to know the family, and Eileen especially. Bonds were made which have lasted more than 30 years and will stretch into the future.
“Any time we were at Casement or up the west [Belfast] we’d have called to their house and were always made very welcome. Eileen would put a spread on and there was always craic.”
The McGuinness household will be filled with tears this week, but there’ll still be no shortage of craic.
Farewell to Sean, a great man who lived up to his legend.
