Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh’s greatest skill was allowing the blind to see
Mícheál Ó Muircheartaigh, the commentator and broadcaster who passed away on Tuesday, aged 93, was much more than the voice of the GAA. He was an aural bridge between Ireland’s black and white past and its technicolour present.
True, he had a line for everything and everyone, but he also understood his role as an observer of history, content to sit on a ringside seat to greatness. He was never the story; he was just the teller of it.
Yes, there were affectations; his thick Kerry accent, his trademark switch — mid sentence — from English to Irish, his flair for grandiose hyperbole but, at his core as a conduit of a collection of sporting moments, was a man in love with the life unfolding before him. For those without a television, he was their eyes, for the rest of us stuck in cars on the way home from a match somewhere else in the country, he was a vehicle of escape.
The closest thing we ever came to a broadcaster calling a ballgame from Fenway Park. Those guys — the Vin Scully’s of the baseball world — had the luxury of whole minutes of dead time in between pitches to fill with morsels of magnificent information. Ó Muircheartaigh had a matter of seconds.
“Teddy McCarthy to Mick McCarthy, no relation. Mick McCarthy back to Teddy McCarthy, still no relation.” How many hours were spent by so many, daydreaming out car windows, a little broken from a loss just witnessed, suddenly transported to Semple Stadium, and a game of hurling they never knew they were interested in. That was Ó Muircheartaigh’s greatest skill; allowing the blind to see.
Unsurprisingly for a man so capable of giving colour to even the dullest of occasions, Ó Muircheartaigh lived a rich and varied life. Born on August 20, 1930, in Dún Síon, Dingle, Co Kerry, he was one of eight kids to Timothy Moriarity and Catherine (née Quinn).
He went to school in Dingle, first at the Presentation Convent, then with the Christian Brothers, and finished his secondary education at Coláiste Íosagáin in Baile Bhúirne, Co Cork. In September 1948, he started a teacher-training course at St Patrick’s College, Drumcondra, and qualified in 1950. After a short time as a substitute teacher, he got a temporary teaching job at St Laurence O’Toole’s CBS in Seville Place, Dublin.
In early March 1949, Ó Muircheartaigh, along with 10 other students from the college and several from other colleges, did a test commentary on a hurling game at Croke Park. Each student had to commentate for five minutes in Irish and the most successful would be selected for further commentary work.
Ó Muircheartaigh had never seen a game of hurling before in his life. But he knew that those adjudicators judging his commentary were not able to see the game. He later said of the experience “’Twas a new game to me. But I knew one person. He was in goal for UCD and his name was Tadhg Hurley.”
The appropriately named Hurley was called up to take a penalty, an event that allowed the novice Ó Muircheartaigh to do what he would later become most famous for — tell a story.
“It took him (Hurley) at least a minute to come from the Canal goal up. And while he was coming up I spoke about his brother Bob, who was in Donal’s class, and his sister who used to come out to Dún Síon strand during the summer. So eventually he took the penalty. I’ve seen DJ Carey, I’ve seen Nicky Rackard, I’ve seen Christy Ring. None of them could ever equal the display he gave that day… Sin mar a thosaigh sé!
Even that twist in the tale — that his Hurley gave a display above all others — was typical of Ó Muircheartaigh’s generosity and democracy with the telling of a truth. It didn’t matter who you were, on a given day you could be described above the greats of the game (especially if he knew your brother).
Ó Muircheartaigh was the one selected and his first assignment was to provide an all-Irish commentary on the 1949 Railway Cup final on St Patrick’s Day.
He graduated from St. Patrick’s College a bit later and earned a Bachelor of Arts degree (1952) from University College Dublin. Additionally, he completed a Higher Diploma in Education and began teaching economics, accountancy, and Irish in both primary and secondary schools across Dublin, primarily in institutions run by the Christian Brothers. He continued teaching until the 1980s when he transitioned to being a full-time broadcaster with RTÉ.
At the start of his broadcasting career, Ó Muircheartaigh provided commentary in Irish for Minor GAA matches. He also deputised for the legendary Micheál O’Hehir, a man he considered a mentor, when O’Hehir was unavailable. After O’Hehir retired in the mid-1980s, Ó Muircheartaigh took over as RTÉ’s leading radio commentator.
He developed a unique style of commentary, with an accent unmistakably that of a native Irish speaker. The detail of what was happening on the field of play never got in the way of the colour to be observed and reported on around it. What was central to his voice was his love for the GAA, his passion for Gaelic Games generally, and his fascination with people. His turn-of-phrase became his calling card.
“Pat Fox out to the 40 and grabs the sliothar. I bought a dog from his father last week. Fox turns and sprints for goal. The dog ran a great race last Tuesday in Limerick. Fox to the 21 fires a shot, it goes to the left and wide… and the dog lost as well.”
Never contrived, always delivered as naturally as a fella sitting atop a high-stool passing comment on a recently returned neighbour, back after years of exile in Philadelphia. When Ó Muircheartaigh was commentating, there were two things unfolding at once; the match, and the theatre around it. He understood this better than any other caller of games, and communicated it with a voice as authentic as it was informed.
On September 16, 2010, he announced his retirement from broadcasting, but his absence from the airwaves on game day was tempered by his many appearances elsewhere both on RTÉ and Tg4.
“I’ve seen 77 senior All-Ireland football finals, if you count replays,” he said soon after hanging up the mic, “and I’ve seen much the same in hurling, counting the five or six replays. I don’t miss it, because I’m still going to the matches.”
His love for the Irish language never dimmed (Ó Muircheartaigh wrote a weekly sports column for Foinse, the Irish-language newspaper free with the Irish Independent), nor did his passion for his other major hobbies, greyhound racing and sailing. His retirement was defined not by his withdrawal from public life, but by his embracing of new challenges, such as the charitable work with Alone and MyLegacy.
He died that rarest of things: a man more beloved than most of the heroes who played the games he called. A true Laochra Gael. He is survived by his wife, Helena (née McDowell), sons Aonghus, Cormac, Éamonn, and daughters Doireann, Éadaoin, Neasa, Niamh and Nuala.
