Cornelius Patrick Joseph McSweeney or Neil as he was once known, but this is a story for another day and one Auntie Marie will need to tell. A great name for a great man. A name of principles. A role model, an inspiration, a hero, a pioneer but most importantly, our dad, our husband, our gaga, our uncle, our brother and our cousin. A family man who put family before anything else. His family were the most important thing in the world to him. He was very clear on his priorities.
A man of many colours and I have tried to represent these today. The blue of Dublin, the green of Kerry, the white of England and the red of Ulster. For anyone unable to be here, one of these colours is representing you. We always said Dad should have worked for the UN.
Born in August 1936, dad entered Ireland at an interesting time, where political tensions were high. Dad, of course had views and stories to tell, which I will come onto, but he didn’t get caught up in what was happening around him. Although if you were caught watching Prime Ministers Question Time with him, you would certainly hear his opinions. He treated everyone equally and fairly and made his own judgements and decisions. A private man who shaped his own destiny and journey and what a journey he had.
He set the example of what was right and kept it simple. Dad would always say, ‘work hard, be kind and always give 100% in everything you do’. He never wavered from this. As a role model, they don’t much better.
Growing up at number 3 Bulfin Gardens in Inchicore Dublin was a great place for dad’s character to develop and flourish. He loved his house, the street and the sense of community it brought. He talked about how straight forward life was, except perhaps for his school St Michaels, which he used to say, ‘you had to fight to get in and fight to get out.’ He tells stories of famous footballers who lived nearby, the Bulfin Gardens Football Team, who made their own kit with white shirts and a homemade badge (much to the dismay of his mum Nora), cycling freely to Phoenix Park, down the hill and around the bandstand and playing Gaelic sports, everyday, living every child’s dream to be their hero’s.
There is also a story of his dad, Patrick who won a Monkey in a game of cards on a boat at the docks and again dads Mum not being too impressed that they had a new pet. She was also not too impressed when dad started a motorbike in the kitchen and sent soot everywhere. It feels like she had a bit on her hands! He fully admits he was a bit of a rogue, but clearly one of those lovable rogues who could do no wrong. The three brothers also had their older sister Marie to keep them in shape.
With the family farm in Rathmore, summer holidays were spent in Kerry, looking after the Donkey’s and feeding the animals. Dad laughed recently as he was always sent to the farm for a holiday, but as he reflected on those great days, he talked about how early he was up to get the milk, feed the animals and how many hours he was actually working on the farm. He loved every minute of it and would cry as he said goodbye to the Donkey’s. His love of animals and milk was fostered early during these days in Rathmore and one piece of solace we have now, is that he can once again walk his best friend Cody, who he loved and missed so dearly.
Growing up in Dublin, with family heritage in Kerry, there was great and fun rivalry between dad and his brothers John and Phil. As the only sister, Marie often had to keep the peace, but it was all friendly, unless Phil took it upon himself to challenge anyone in the crowd, while watching dad play, who said a bad word against him. Dad recalls on one occasion Phil chasing someone across the pitch during the game. I will talk about the Dublin v Kerry 2019 All Ireland Final in a bit, but this was one of the greats days for Dad and John. Two brothers, with their competing rosettes, living out their boyhood dreams and memories once again.
In 1951, when dad was 15, he took his first trip to England. A 12-week dancing tour with the famous Beverly Sisters. Dad was at the farm in Rathmore when he got the call to go to England. He didn’t want to go, as he would miss the donkeys, but go he did. It was here under the tutorage of the famous musician Arthur Tolcher that dad began to flourish. Arthur was tasked with looking after dad and was known as the ‘minder’. Dad had a cheeky smile when he recounts how Arthur became his biggest influence. From St Michaels School, the streets of Bulfin Garden’s, the bandstand at Phoenix Park, dad was underway in the next part of his journey. The ‘minder’ had shown him the ropes. What ropes these were, we will never know and perhaps this is a good thing.
The 50’s saw dad excel at dancing, while he also began to show his talents in Gaelic Football for Dublin. What a decade this was for dad. Performing on multiple TV shows, touring, performing with James Cagney, appearing and winning in an All-Ireland Final in 1955 in front of 100,000 people at Croke Park, winning an All Ireland Dancing Medal and appearing in many movies, including the famous 1960, Siege of Sidney Street. If this was now, with social media, dad would be a global super star. Carol remembers fondly as a young girl, watching dad dance on RTE on a Saturday night. Mum and dad were out dancing themselves as mums and dads best friends, and the reason they met, Denis and Evelyn would babysit Carol. How proud Carol was. That’s my dad on our old black and white TV, dancing, smiling, inspiring others and having fun. Just doing what he loved.
To our knowledge, he is the only person in the world, ever, to have won both an All-Ireland Football and Dancing Medal. An amazing achievement. However, dad was not interested in the accolades and the fame. He was far too humble and modest. He talked more fondly about his friends and family. His friends Fran Jordon, Bobby Gelson and Mick Dawson, who would attend dances with dad, most nights. They were known as the Rinkies. I am sure they had quite a following. His great friend Micky Whelan who he played with at his junior club in Dublin, Clan Na Gael. Being the first Clan Na Gael team to win the Dublin juniors, gave dad as much satisfaction as winning the All Ireland with Dublin. He wore his Clan Na Gael club socks and Dublin shirt everywhere.
If you asked dad to select one dancing memory, it would be winning the Finton Lawler Medal and not his Father Matthew World Championship. I will tell the story as best I can. The Finton Lawler was aimed at giving new and inexperienced dancers the chance to compete, learn and grow in confidence. It was to create equal opportunity and to give those who were not at dad’s level, the chance to perform and achieve. It was a stage open to all and you were encouraged, no matter what your ability was. He was often asked to compete but refused as he wanted to give others a chance. He would go and watch, and this alone gave those competing the feeling of great worth. He was there to support. One year he went to watch and to his dismay an arch-rival dancer had entered. Arrogant, entitled, it would be an easy victory. The other competitors looked withdrawn and deflated. In an instant, dad a man of deep principles and knowing how unfair this was entered last minute. He wore his belt as his sash and danced in his regular shoes. Dad of course won. It was not his victory that won the day, but the principles he stood for. Fairness and equality above everything else. If anyone tried to undermine those less fortunate than himself, he stood up for them.
It’s during these halcyon days that dad recounts a few interesting teammates and run ins with some interesting characters. He talks of players arriving late to matches on their motorbikes, running into the changing room and hiding rifles as soon as they got in. No one asked any questions. On one such occasion, after a match and a night out dancing, dad was cycling home and it was about 2am. He had gone the long way, probably around the bandstand at Phoenix Park. He was in no rush. Just after he arrived through the door, there was a loud knock. Two big men, in long coats came in and asked him to go with them. He was under arrest. Mum Nora was mortified. Alas, they had the wrong man and dads charm persuaded them to go on their way. I never knew if they caught who they were after, but dad had a rye smile when he told the story.
It’s not the only time he would have discussions with various members of the law. Driving from Dublin to Belfast in his Morris Minor to see mum with a Celtic badge in the window, southern registration plates and a bag of tools in the boot, did cause dad a few issues at the various check points. I hope the tools weren’t to impress mum as his DIY skills left a lot to be desired.
He also liked to prove people wrong, in a good way. The 60’s saw dad pass on his dancing knowledge and he became a dance teacher with the Order of St John of God. It would be too easy for dad to teach children who could already dance, so he focused his energy on disabled children at this school, who up to that point were given no chance and no hope. So much so, they didn’t go out or engage with the rest of their community. What did dad do? He taught them to dance brilliantly, gave them hope, inspired them and they performed on television, in front of the nation. However, people watching didn’t have sympathy, didn’t think it was a nice thing to do, they just watched fantastic dancers. Why? Because they didn’t know they were disabled. He had taught them so well. The school referred to dad as having a ‘deep understanding of the children in his care, a real affection to the children, who readily responded, with sincere, loyal and wholehearted service’.
He was the first person to take these kids out and it caused such a talking point that Robert Kennedy came to visit the school while visiting Ireland. Impressive dad. He also gave away over 300 of his medals and trophies to these groups. Imagine how these kids felt. Valued and proud. It’s how he made everyone feel.
57 years ago this month, in 1964 dad met mum. Dad was best man to Denis and mum was a bridesmaid to Evelyn. At the wedding they met, and mum thought dad was a bit of a show off, but all he said he was trying to do was get people dancing. His charm won the day and from that moment on they were soul mates. A move to England followed a few years later and a new life in London began. This must have been incredibly difficult for both of them, leaving family and friends behind, with dads mum passing away the year before they left and with nothing more than a bag each. In dads bag, a sports bag, he just had the few medals he had kept. These were his treasured positions.
But they had a plan. And that plan involved working really, really hard. Grafting for everything. Starting in Earls Court, cleaning a block of flats they lived in, dad worked during the day and helped mum clean at night. To owning a laundrette, where dad would collect the football kits to wash on a Sunday, to moving to Wimbledon and getting married in the Sacred Heart Church on Edge Hill. Still a place today, we all can call home.
Dad was never afraid of hard work, and he first met his best friend Denis at Walpam Muir. A printing inks company back in Ireland. He was the only one who volunteered to sweep and clean the factory for three months in the summer. It was spotless. His desire to succeed and work ethic were incredible. A lesson we all have hopefully taken on board. From the shop floor he eventually became the Managing Director of Sun Chemical. He had a stellar career for over 40 years before he retired in 2002.
You may think it strange I have not yet mentioned dad’s other religion, sorry Father Liam, Fulham Football Club. That’s because it deserves a section all on its own. When mum and dad moved to England in 1968, mums Aunt Sarah lived in Putney. Mum would visit each weekend and dad would conveniently find an excuse as to why he couldn’t pop in. That excuse became Craven Cottage, Fulham’s home ground. There is no way I can sum up dads 50 years as a Fulham fan and you will be glad to know I am not going to review each year. He felt at home at Craven Cottage. A special place for him. I loved our days out as I was growing up. Not the football, that was bad, but the journey, the conversations, the excitement of the day ahead, just spending time with dad. Dad never got annoyed, but I would like to walk around the ground for a different view during the second half. Reluctantly dad would agree. The number of times we missed a goal as we did the stadium walk. He was not happy. We used to always run to be back in the car for sports report at 5pm. However, we often forgot where we parked the car and found ourselves running around the streets of Fulham well after 5. Prior to coming to England, Dad and Denis would often get the boat to watch Everton. Dad probably held a dance on board on the way back.
Dads last match at Fulham was on 13th December. After 10 months with fans being away from football due to COVID it was incredibly special to take dad to this game. My earliest memory of going to football with dad, was back in 1986 when he took me to watch Chelsea v Liverpool. 34 years later seeing Liverpool at dads’ spiritual home, against his beloved Fulham, singing you will never walk alone, was fitting. Especially as he would sing this song at Celtic Park, his other football love. The team also put in a performance he was proud of. I said in the car on the way home, that the performance was for him.
We had a bonus trip to Craven Cottage in May. The stadium was opened, just for dad. He was so excited. We spent several hours, just walking around the ground and talking. Fortunately, there was no game on, so we didn’t miss a goal. He also gave the groundsman a few pointers on how they should cut the grass!
Ireland played Italy at Craven Cottage in 2014. Dad and Uncle John were guests of honour in the Director’s box and were presented with the matchday gifts from the FAI. My happiest Fulham memory seeing dad and John together. John’s shop in Talbot Street, a special place with pictures in the window, with dad in the centre, showed how much he was loved.
Football or soccer gave dad some amazing experiences as a player too, but it also created a big issue back in the day. Dad played for fun, not for fortune or recognition, just because he enjoyed it. He happened to be brilliant though and playing in a game for Shamrock Rovers one pre-season, just to keep fit would change the direction of dads sporting career for ever. His name appeared in the paper and back then, playing foreign sports meant you got banned from playing GAA. From winning the All Ireland to never being allowed to play Gaelic again.
His soccer career flourished, and dad played League of Ireland for Transport Utd, The League’s All Stars Team, Anna Utd and then Collwood Albian in England, where he once scored 100 goals in a season. He stopped playing at 48. Transport tried to resign dad when he was at Anna and offered him £7 a week. Back then that was a lot. He refused as he wanted to keep the door open to one day return to GAA. Being paid to play foreign sports would have definitely ruled this out.
I later found out that it was Clan Na Gael’s great rivals St Vincent’s who kept blocking the ban appeal. Despite how bad this was, it showed how much they feared and respected him. However, in August 2019, just before the All Ireland, Dublin v Kerry Final, dads ban was officially overturned. John Costello, the CEO of the Dublin GAA wrote a wonderful letter to dad which included:
‘Manager Jim Gavin often tells of how the players have a great pride in representing their county and always references the fact that the team are building on the legacies of Dublin’s teams of the past. They are standing on the shoulders of those who proudly wore blue before them. I know your shoulders are among those on which the current team stand.
I am not sure of your ambitions of fitness levels Con, nor do I have any part in the selection, but I can gladly inform you that there is no longer any impediment to you playing for the county again.’
Unfortunately, dad didn’t get selected to play in the 2019 Final. But thanks to Jason, he was there with John. Dad wearing the Kerry rosette and John Dublin, beautifully made by Carol. He saw the Dubs with 5 in a row with John and he said they both sang into the night, singing Dublin in the Rare Old Times by the Dubliners (another great love) at least 500 times, ‘raised on songs and stories, hero’s all renowned, the passing tales and glories, that once was Dublin town’. When he was dancing and singing, time didn’t seem to exist. He was in the moment and that moment could last forever. Just ask Kayleigh and Jayme at her wedding. He was the last man standing. Walking Kat down the isle that dad, was one of the proudest moments in dad’s life.
Dad was always there, for all of us, all of the time. From being on the touchline at every sporting event, to driving us all over the country for sport, drama and education, it was always family first.
In such adversity, you look for strength, hope and something positive. Instead of flowers, dad wanted to support the Fulham Foundations work with Autistic children. This is not his tribute, but a tribute to Ellie. He loved looking after Ellie when she was over studying in England.
I am going to leave my final words to my mum and to my big sister. We have all cried every day for over a year since dads’ diagnosis. It’s been incredibly tough. Add in a pandemic and the loss of loved ones, it has certainly not been easy. You have both been amazing. Everyday Carol went to visit, with food, treats or just to say hello. Mum never left dads side and did everything possible. I strongly believe they both keep him alive far longer than any doctor could have imagined. You both gave him strength, security, hope, comfort and a reason to keep going. Impossible to feel it now, but you should feel so proud. He stayed at home and left on his own terms. No words will ever do justice to how incredible you have both been. Thank you.
So, I promised dad we would all be ok, we will live our lives and we will flourish as a family. If we didn’t, what did he do everything for? We will stop crying, not today, not tomorrow and it will take time, but we will make you proud dad and live our lives. As a little Scarlett once said as she started her first day of school, ‘it’s ok, we will take it one step at a time’. That’s what we will do. Mum, myself, Carol, Kayleigh, Rebecca, Dan, Scarlett and Magnus we have to ensure we lead by example here.
So dad, it’s time to go back to Dublin in the rare old times. Go and be reunited with the Rinkie’s, ride your bike round the bandstand at Phoenix Park and kick that goal in front of Hill 16. Check in on the ‘minder’ as he will be there to guide you. Dance till your hearts content and take Cody for a walk as he has missed you. But do it, keeping out of trouble, with a smile on your face, knowing we are fine.
Thank you dad.