Former Galway hurler, Michael Coleman.
By John Harrington
For those who knew him, the shock of Michael Coleman’s death last Friday after an accident while clearing storm damage near his home won’t dissipate for a very long time.
The three-time All-Star was unbreakable for the Galway hurlers in his playing days and was still a fit, strong man, which makes his passing all the harder to believe.
His former Galway manager, Cyril Farrell, is still struggling to come to terms with it.
“It's unbelievable,” says Farrell. “Of all the lads going, it's just still very hard to believe that he's dead.
“He was a giant on the pitch and a giant off it. A very unassuming fella who was very involved in his community.
“He was a lovely lad who preferred to work away in the background and was a great man to get things done.
“He was a warrior who played it very hard but also played it very fair. He never complained or blamed anyone else. He just took everything on the chin.
“He was the same off the field, very much a silent leader. He had a great work ethic, the Coleman family would be like that.
“He came from a family where your word was your bond. That kind of a family where hard work and honesty were the corner-stones.”
Before last Saturday’s Allianz Hurling League match against Clare in Pearse Stadium the entire Galway squad and backroom gathered together while Conor Whelan laid a number eight jersey on the field.
The Galway team and supporters stand for a moments silence in memory of the late Michael Coleman before the Allianz Hurling League Division 1A match between Galway and Clare at Pearse Stadium in Galway. Photo by Tyler Miller/Sportsfile.
It was a fitting tribute to the totemic midfielder, thought the man himself was never the type to court them.
“Coleman was a very simple person like most great people are,” says his former Galway team-mate, Pete Finnerty.
“He never over-complicated his life with big business or high finance or anything like that. All Coleman ever wanted was his family, his friends, Abbeyknockmoy, Galway hurling, and cigarettes. That was Michael Coleman.
“He was a great character and had the same respect for everybody he met. It didn't matter who you were, you got the same greeting and length of time with him.
“He just loved helping people and loved doing it under the radar. He never wanted any big recognition for it or anything. He was just one of these people that you don't meet too often.
“You never had to speak to Coleman. You had this unwritten and accepted thing that both of us did our best so when you'd meet him it would be just a nod across a street or at a funeral or a wedding or whatever you'd be at.
“You didn't have to talk and relive anything. You knew that he had given his best and I had given my best and both of us respected each other for that.
“He was that kind of a person. He didn't need plaudits and you wouldn't know what he'd won or whether he'd won anything.”
Coleman made his championship debut for Galway in 1988 and played a key role in their All-Ireland win that year and again the following year in 1989.
Shane O'Neill of Limerick in action against Michael Coleman of Galway during the National Hurling League Final match between Limerick and Galway at Cusack Park in Ennis, Clare. Photo by Ray McManus/Sportsfile.
Physically powerful, dominant in the air, and a great distributor of the ball, he was one of the best midfielders of his generation.
“He was teak tough to hurl against,” says Finnerty.
“I hurled against him at club level and you just hated marking him. I think the Tipperary lads called him the helicopter because his elbows, knees, and arms would all be going and he'd be flailing left and right and it was just very difficult to get a ball off him or win a ball against him. He had incredible strength as well.
“As a character in the dressing-room he wasn't very loud, he wouldn't be shouting and roaring or anything like that, but there was a steeliness and steadiness about him so you knew you didn't have to look after him.
“The other lads you might be worried that nerves would get to them and you'd be talking to them and keeping them in it, but Coleman would take his corner in the dressing-room and sit out and with about five minutes to go would sneak off into the toilet and have a quiet fag. Then into the huddle and out we go and you never had to worry about him or think about him.
“You'd always chalk him down as present and ready to go. He was just one of those people who could look after himself, did his own thing, and was a great leader as well when he had to be.”
Coleman was hard man, but he always hurled fairly. Tipperary’s Colm Bonner had some great battles with him over the years and had huge respect for his opponent.
“He was such a tough marker and he had a tremendous catch and a huge presence on the field,” says Bonner.
“He just gave everything when he pulled on that Galway jersey. I had huge admiration for him in terms of his physical conditioning and how he kept himself going.
“When he pulled or whipped on that ball you wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of it. He was a very physical player and brought all of that into his game, but very fair too.
“I have only the utmost of respect for him.
“Michael Coleman typified everything that was good about Galway hurling in terms of that toughness but also in terms of his ability to hurl.
“It's very sad to see him go. He's the same age as myself and you just don't see life ending that quick.”
Declan Ryan of Tipperary in action against Michael Coleman of Galway during the All-Ireland Senior Hurling Championship Semi-Final match between Tipperary and Galway at Croke Park in Dublin. Photo by Ray McManus/Sportsfile.
Having already lost Tony Keady in 2017, the death of Coleman is another bitter pill for the Galway hurlers of the ‘80s and ‘90s who remain a very tight bunch.
“It brought it straight back again,” says Finnerty. “It was like going back nearly eight years now, it's hard to believe.
“You’re asking yourself ‘why?’ again. You’re thinking he was too young, you’re thinking of the family and everyone he's left behind. You’re thinking you won't get to see him, have a game of golf with him, have a laugh with him.
“It puts it into perspective too, we're all getting older. That's a second one gone off the field now. It just shows how uncertain life is.
“When you soldier together as players for so long and you win and lose with them and get to the goal that we all have starting off which is to win an All-Ireland.
“When you do that a bond does form and there's just a massive respect there. The minute you meet them again you go straight back into the dressing-room you were in 40 years ago as a minor or a senior.
“That bond is there and when somebody leaves the circle it makes the circle smaller. It's hard.”
Solas na bhFlaitheas ar a anam uasal.
