Mick Glynn and other tall stories

Part One: And so, it begins…..

Maria, Bellagio’s owner is all over D. Her son Ricardo is waiting to take our order.

Finally, Ricardo says: the usual Dr D? D nods. Thanks Ricardo.

And for you? “I’ll have the Rynner special”. Ricardo doesn’t even blink.

As a glass of Valpolicella lands I say to D, do you have corn on “The Usual”?

Corn? Wash your mouth out Springer – I’m a purist.

His pizza arrives. More pineapple than you could shake a stick at. Some purist. I say nothing.

My pizza also arrives; The Rynner; vegetarian with ham. I kid you not. Invented by Rynner and now Number 14 on the pizza menu.

I’m like: I hear you’ve been known to select imaginary teams D?

Oh yes, a few of us do that from time to time. Teams like the best Smithwick’s drinkers XV. Or, the best Mary’s players never to be capped XV.

Let me guess I say, Chetts? Tony Hickie? Fange?

Exactly. And all the other usual suspects.

Did you ever select the worst ever XV?

Oh yes. Of course.

Who’s on it? Eggo White? Donal Swift? Gary Manning? Titus?

I can neither confirm nor deny any of those…..well except Eggo, says D and he continues with: and come to think of it, the other 3 are super Club men and who played a lot of successful junior rugby so no, none of them were on that XV. Would you have any of them on it?

Absolutely not D.

(Pause)

Well except Titus.

(Longer pause)

Just Kidding!

“Oh”, says D, and we selected the Rocky XV. The best fellas to soften you up with a smack!

I’m now rubbing my hands with glee. I go: Trev? Claresey? Logie?

Yes says D. All of them. Dave Clare was very handy. Trev? Say no more. Also Jemmo. Now he’d throw a little smack at the first lineout in most matches. Just to let you know I’m here and I’m not issuing verbal warnings. Logie? He easily earned his place on the Rocky XV and as he said himself at the last Terenure lunch – “I got about 10 yellows playing you guys…………………………….and I don’t regret any of them”.

And Mad Max?

Yes, Karl was a shoe-in.

What about Paudge, I say. I remember him throwing a lot of digs at the then current international prop Tom Clancy one day. Only problem was that Paudge just put his head down, eyes closed, lashing out. Maybe one even landed, two at most. And the mill was over for ages before Paudge stopped hitting fresh air. Hilarious.

No Springer, Paudge didn’t make the Rocky XV.

What about Steve Hennessy?

Nope.

But D, Steve threw a haymaker when we were on tour in Sicily. Seriously.

Tell me.

Well says I, I was manager of the firsts and Rory O’Connor was coach. Two Synge Street boys running the show; who’s have thunk! We were in a tournament and playing Bordeaux Begles in the final in Sicily. Yes, BB, same crowd as the current Heino champions.

Anyway, at half time we decided we’d taken enough dirty sneaky punches so we decided to shout Rocky if anyone got a dig. On that signal, you were to smack the guy opposite you. Pottsy carefully explained to Mad Max that that meant to hit a guy not wearing blue!

I’m pretty sure that Karl started the huge mill that ensued by slyly hitting Fange, who immediately shouted Rocky Rocky Rocky. Karl was smiling broadly as he laid into the French. All hell broke loose. Peter Mac GilloRi told me that he was held back from the fray by Vinnie Cunningham who told me that Peter begged him to hold him back.

But then, and you won’t believe this D, Steve ran the length of the pitch and lamped their full-back. He had been just standing there mildly interested in the fracas, even took the opportunity to light a Gauloise! He was gobsmacked, literally gobsmacked.

He shouted at Steve the French equivalent of “WTF”!

Rory and I are leaning on the railings watching - laughing actually - and Rory shouts: Hey Steve, you were to clock the guy opposite you, not your opposite number.

“Oh….(as the penny drops) right” looks at the guy, sniffles, and goes: “Eh, Je suis desolee.”

“Alors, sank you”, says your man.

Steve goes “Right so, no bodder”, and off he trots.

Rory and I continue our important chat about what to sing at the upcoming multi-team party that night. Rory goes: I learnt a few sea shanties in Synger, so I’ll stick my finger in my ear and close my eyes and look like I know what I’m doing, and then sing “In South Australia I was born”.

Lucky you; in Synger all I learnt was “Beigh aonach amarach” and even worse - Dilleen oh douse, oh douse!”

Anyway D, does Steve make the cut?

Nope.

Mick Glynn?

You want to know if Mick makes the cut? He’s the captain!

Part two: What did Mick Glynn ever do for us…..

Brendan, Mick is always smiling, agreed?

Absolutely. 100%. I have a theory about his smiles, D.

First, he’s always got a happy tune going on in his head. Dum dee dee dum. It’s always there. Second, he has a different smile for different occasions. For example, if he’s being praised, he uses the “Joe Schmidt aw shucks” smile.

Yes Springer, I know that one. When Joe was being interviewed by RTE it would go like this:

“Well done, Joe, thrashing England in Twickers.”

“Aw shucks Claire, I just sind thim out to play footy, but whin they pull on that grin jirsey it’s all about thim…………….Claire”.

That’s right D. And then there’s what I call it the “Princess Di”. Remember the smile she used when meeting and greeting those little kids? And then she’d get on her hunkers and accept a manky bunch of daisies, and pat the poor child on the shoulder.

And the third smile is the one before, during, and after he’s giving you a little thump. The mouth is smiling, but he doesn’t bother bringing his eyes into the action.

Moving on D, why is Mick Glynn called Tutti?

Because he used to sing “Tutti Frutti oh Rudy”…..a lot. Another one was Three Lovely Lassies from Kimmage in a Ronnie Drew accent. Beard and all. And guitar. What was Mick like in Templeogue?

He was pretty fresh from Loughborough Uni with his degree, his shiny purple trackie, and an encyclopaedic knowledge of all things sports.

He brought our SCT to Scotland to play the Scottish equivalent of ‘Rock and Mary’s. On that tour he taught us a lot. “Mick’s Tricks” we called them. We beat both and then he took us to Murrayfield to see Scotland V All Blacks.

When we returned to Dublin, we beat pretty much all the schools in the friendlies, got to the Senior Cup semi-final, drew it and lost the replay. Mary’s SCT also lost their semi.

Anyway, we were invited to play the curtain-raiser ahead of the final of the Club’s 7’s. It was 1973 - the Club 7’s was huge then. So, the two beaten SCT semi-finalists were playing against each other.

Our team was Peter Elliott, Sean Dunne, Turlough O’Broin, Derek Earley, Gerry Delaney, Floody and me.

Mary’s was Fange, Dorgie, one of the Deerings, Oppy, Skinny, Wardy and Rodney.

Dick Swan came into the ‘Logue dressing room before the match, fag in one hand, a Jemmy in the other, and his West Brit pep-talk went like this:

“Lambs to the slaughter, what? Thought I’d pep you up. They’re not plumbers you know. You’ll need to be on your guard, what? Horses for courses, what? The three B’s, don’t forget.”

Blank looks. Floody goes; we actually don’t understand one word you’ve just said. What for example are the three B’s?

“Boot, Bollock and Bite. You don’t know that? I’m astounded. Shocked actually. Who’s your coach? Well never mind. Anyway, it will all be over before you know it. Chin chin. Carry on”.

Mick had other ideas. He had actually coached us for a week on the dynamics of 7’s. Introduced more of Mick’s Tricks. In addition, he told us that the star-studded team opposite us might be inclined to play 7’s like “Tip with Tackling” especially if they hadn’t been coached specifically for 7’s. He was right.

“I’ve had a word with the ref – Merv the Swerve – and explained that there may be some trick moves, which I described, and he confirmed all are kosher.”

30 minutes later we’re back in the dressing room, with our winners’ medals. Dick comes in with two six-packs of luke-warm Smithwick’s.

“There you go boys. I knew you could do it once you played the way I said, what? One or two of you might even make our 19’s next season. Keep at it. Carry on”.

D, Mick was basking. Dum dee dee dum. And why wouldn’t he.

So, Springer, any more Mick’s Tricks?

Ah D. The next one is a beaut. We were entered into a Rugby Schools Gaelic Football knockout blitz. Mick basically used the SCT squad for all sports – Soccer, GAA, Basketball, Volleyball and everything, including as waiters for his wedding to the lovely Gemma, in the Club. But that’s a whole new story….

Anyway, back to the gah. 16 rugby SCT’s playing GAA. Like what he did for the 7’s, Mick prepped us for a week before the event. On the day of the blitz, he gathers us and says, Derek Earley, you’re the captain and midfield. Derek is like “Mick, it’s gah, so it’s not midfield, its centerfield.”

Right….anyway, here’s what to do.

Derek: Mick, we all went to national schools and CBS’ so we know how to play gah.

Right….ok, I’ll tell you what non-gah boys don’t know, ok?

Ok.

D interrupts with “Why was Derek captain?”

Because in the practice matches it became obvious that he was our smartest gah player and also our best by a mile. By the way, and not a lot of people know this, but after the blitz, he was invited onto the Dubs minor panel. Go Des!

Back to Mick’s Tricks: “Flatten then with shoulders, they won’t know you can legitimately mill a guy with your shoulder. Solo all day long, they can’t solo. Take your points and the goals will come. They will only go for goals, so load the goalmouth. Keep possession. They will bog the ball every time. There are some big guys so don’t try to catch the high ball, punch it to a teammate. They’ll cop on in the second half, so have each match well won by halftime.”

From 16 teams, to 8, to 4, to the final, and before you could say “Ta athas orm an corn seo a glacadh” we were off to the Morgue, with our winner’s trophy and three sound teachers: Mick Glynn (Latin and P.E.), Aidan Gallagher (Irish and Soccer, he being a League of Ireland ref.) and Mick O’Hara (Physics and Maths…….Honours)

Dum dee dee dum.

Part 3: Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy…..

D, do you remember that Golden Oldie match we played? Against that English team?

It’s vets now Springer. Vets. Like me! Anyway, who was on it?

Well, you and I, and Tutti, Nevs, Fange…..

Oh Yes. When the English scored and did the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and then ring-a-ring-a-rosies? And then they all fell down and cycled imaginary bikes.

Exactly says I, and well, here’s how Mick responded to that appropriately. I got the ball and dropped off. It had a huge “hang time” as they now call it. A thing of beauty. Mick ignored the thing of beauty and creamed the King of the Fairies a second or two before he was due to catch the ball. Mick absolutely emptied him. Now that, D, was a thing of beauty.

Your man gets up and goes “Facking ‘ell mate, what’re you finking?”

“I’m finking respect. Mate. Respect”, as he gives him smile number three, the one that doesn’t reach the eyes.

Later in the bar, I’m standing in front of where Eileen and Kitty are sitting. Mick comes over.

Pint Brendan?

Cheers Mick.

Two pints please Chalkie, and two G and T’s.

I’m thinking if I wanted a chaser, I’d prefer a Paddy. I say nothing.

We’re not chatting but watching the creamy pints settle. Dum Dee Dee Dum. Chalkie hands Mick the G and T’s. Mick turns around and puts them in front of Eileen and Kitty.

“Ladies” as he flashes the Princess Di.

“Ah Mick thanks, but you’re an awful man” says Eileen, “We were just about to leave”.

Mick switches to the Joe Schmidt. Maybe even says aw shucks.

Class.

Meanwhile, I’m wondering if Mick is going to mention the ring-a-ring-a-rosies episode.

“Mick, are you going to mention the ring-a-ring-a-rosies episode?”

He’s like:

It’s our first pitch.

Sacred.

They were dancing like silly little kids.

Like fairies.

Like fools.

So D, Mick is captain of the Rocky XV. He was also Club captain.

Yes Springer, I remember the night of that AGM. Chetts was expected to be named captain but surprisingly Mick got it after JB and Sean Lynch proposed him. Apparently, Mick had discreetly rounded up a lot of the younger players mostly from the ‘Logue. Chetts became captain a few years later and a fine and successful captain he was. But tonight was to be Tutti’s.

D, I was there. Mick had promised to change the club socks from blue with a white top, to blue with a red top, if we voted for him. Templeogue socks. The Bear, Conboy, and Gardiner rounded up the ‘Loguers after training and in we went to the AGM in a scented cloud of soap-on-a-rope and Brut. I remember at the time thinking what a lot of old farts were at the meeting. Ancient. They must have been in their 50’s and 60’s and worse. The place smelled of old men. That and pipe tobacco.

Mick did a gracious acceptance speech but didn’t mention the ‘Logue socks. Must have forgotten. Afterwards, he and JB are chatting in the bar. I interrupt: “Congrats Mick, but you didn’t mention the socks”.

He flashes me a Princess Di. He even pats me on the head.

“What socks”? Dum dee dee dum.

JB, obviously in on the gag just laughs.

Now, at this point, JB doesn’t really know me. We’re both in the “Army” except he’s a 4-star general and I’m a squaddie. I’m shining his tunic buttons and his boots – spit and polish. I’m lacing his boots.

And at that moment in the bar, I realise that I’m not even fit to lace his drinks.

“At ease, Private Spring, as you were. Disss-misssed”, says JB as he executes the perfect and sharpest of salutes.

Oh, how they laughed.

Epilogue: And so it ends…..

As D and I prepare to leave Bellagio, we have a moment’s reflection. I’m full of Valpolicella and The Rynner. D is full of pineapple, and being a guardian of the English language, I can see he’s dying to correct my grammar and slang. He says nothing though – classy.

I finish by saying to D: Mick Glynn, what a hero. Mick’s Tricks. Captain of the Club. Captain of the Rocky XV.

Threw more punches in his career than Ali.

Could have been a contender.

— Brendan Spring