On The Ball

Moss Keane RIP - He never lost the run of himself

October 15th, 2010
by Eamonn Fitzgerald

No reply for the first time at this number; the silence was ominous. This recent phone call to Portarlington went unanswered and I found out the reason why 48 hours later, when the news broke that Moss Keane had departed this life.
The inevitability of his leaving us was known for a long time, but I thought he would last forever; he was so big and strong.

The Gerard Manley Hopkins' poem Felix Randall immediately sprung to mind. Felix Randall, the farrier was" big-boned", "powerful among peers" as we recall the "more boisterous years" of these two giants, Felix and Moss. "Ah well, God rest him all road ever offended ".

The same age, we were the plebs of St Brendan's College in 1960. You copped on very quickly that he was both 'cliste' and 'glic', and when he decided to follow a career in dairy science, nothing stopped him. Agricultural Science was not on the college curriculum in 1965, so he wrote away to the Department of Agriculture for all the relevant literature and studied this subject on his own for the Leaving Cert.
He succeeded, of course and went on to gain a first class Masters.
That was Moss deceptively bright, but the one with the common touch.

Medals galore

Medals in the Sigerson Cups and in the Cork county football c'ships with his beloved UCC, 51 rugby caps for Ireland and touring with the Lions, would raise the chest of many a sportsman. Yes, he was proud of his achievements, but there were no outward signs of 'eirí in airde'. He never lost the run of himself and he knew where he came from. I doubt if he ever won anything with his native Currow and in his juvenile days the biggest obstacle the club mentors had was to convince the opposition how this broth of a boy, standing head and shoulders over team mates and opposition alike, with poundage to match, could be considered as less than 14 years old. No way , they said and that was well before DNA made an appearance. He had a head start on most, if not every Kerry baby from the 1948 cohort. He weighed in at one stone at birth. Read that again, yes ,one stone. Even the great Charlie Nelligan didn't make the 14 pounds.

Currow was always dear to his heart and what a send off they gave him in Portarlington. Over the years, I had many informal meetings and greetings with Moss and he always asked how Currow were going in Kerry as well as the rugby clubs in Castleisland, Killarney ,Tralee, Abbeyfeale and Corca Dhuibhne.

Interviews

I did manage to do two formal interviews with him, first  when the late great Michael O Connor requested an article for the Munster final of 1980, or thereabouts. No restrictions, so a former GAA star with Currow, Kerry, UCC and Kerry's latest Irish Lion appealed. A phone call to the butter testing section of the Dept of Agr. for a certain Mr Keane brought howls of laughter, when he realised who was at the other end of the phone.
 A certain influential Cork county board official cut loose at his county board meeting on the night after the match, castigating the Munster Council for affording a person from a foreign code the opportunity to air his views on an official GAA publication. Howls of laughter from both ends of the phone.
Moss loved it all, the master of mischief and craic. In an other interview  for 'On the Ball ' well amended below  and done shortly after the discovery of his cancer, he recalled that moment in time. More howls of laughter.

The Open University

UCC made him, of course, on and off campus having enrolled in Starry's Open University. He revelled in the distance learning and wore the number 3 geansaí with those marvellous UCC teams of the '65 to '75 decade. 14 Kerrymen and Noel Murphy, the Lone Ranger from Cork. Winners all they kept up the friendships. Locals from Moss' time are Donal and Sean Kavanagh, Tom Looney, Niall Brosnan, Jim Gleeson, Dee Coff and Beaufort's , Jim Coughlan, R.I.P., the Lynch brothers Brendan and Paudie and Colm Kelly. Padraig O Meara, lifelong friend of Moss was appointed dietician by the Curnow under-graduate. The Legion man always insisted in bringing back to Cork every Sunday evening  a 7 stone bag of Kerr's pinks, one for every day of the week, compulsory roughage for a future Lion.

Obstacles

The many obituaries paid all kinds of tributes to one of Irelands best known rugby stars of the past. Moss did more than anyone to widen the support for rugby. Munster is a case in point. It took a good bit of soul searching before he opened up on those early days in the rugby. He had to overcome all kinds of bigotry and snobbishness, not having attended the select rugger producing second level schools and bringing with him playing  gear that was not the norm for rugby. Different coloured socks and a less whiter than white togs was fine for him, but not for them.
He  settled that difference he day he put the ball under his oxter in his own half and charged upfield dragging 4 of the opposition with him , or was it 7 ?. The years do dim the specifics, especially from under the East Stand, or was it the West Stand?
The crowd rose to the chant of Moss……………SS. All was changed, changed utterly; a terrible beauty of an Irishman was accepted. What matters the shape of the ball, said that great Mangerton View man and Kerry star, Paddy Sexton.

Anecdotes

Anecdotes abound about Moss. Two new ones come to mind. Fred Cogley was interviewing him on the eve of an international rugby match. He read out his list of achievements and then added, "But Maurice Ignatius, with over 40 caps already ,you never scored a try for Ireland ". A pregnant pause by Moss and then one of the great put downers of a two word response. "Not yet ", said the Currow man and burst out laughing at the Maurice Ignatius, a legacy of triple initial Christian names suited to the ilk of Kennedy, Gibson et al. Simply, Moss best suited.

How wonderful to hear that he watched the final day of the Ryder cup in the company of his great friend from their UCC days, Colm Kelly.
Moss slipped away that night, a loss for all who knew him. That hearty laugh, the mischievous twinkle in his eye, the yarns, the craic, the myths, and the realities; we'll think of them when we miss him.
The greatest loss of all is to his wife Anne ,daughters Sarah and Anne Marie,

Ann whispered as the mourners came to say goodbye. "Must tell you a secret, he is nice, and snug now wearing his Munster socks".
Time to smile and wonder were they matching or not ?. Heaven knows; just a thought. for the man who gave me many a laugh over  50 years.

Slán abhaile, Moss.



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