A towering figure in Irish sports journalism
IT WAS Sunday morning at the union’s annual delegate meeting in 1998. At the previous night’s traditional satiric cabaret a delegate had delivered an impersonation of Sean Kilfeather’s singing which offended a section of the Irish contingent. Some had left in protest at a perceived anti-Irish slur and there was talk of emergency motions and formal protests.
Delegates were taking their seats as Sean walked to the podium – surprisingly, since he was not normally an early-morning attendee.
Many of those who had taken exception were not even in the hall, having stayed up too late devising their plan of campaign. Jeremy Dear, then president, looked uncomfortable as Kilfeather began in a strong, clear voice: “Something happened in this place last night and it should never happen again. I understand there was an impersonation of me. I take grave exception. I was not told in advance this would happen. I missed it. Next time I demand notice.”
The hall erupted with laughter. Not for the first time Sean had poured oil on troubled waters with eloquence and humour.
Sean Kilfeather was a towering figure in Irish sports journalism. While best known for reporting Gaelic games, he was also recognised as one of the most knowledgeable commentators on boxing.
He worked first for the now defunct Sligo Independent and subsequently for the Sligo Champion. He later worked on the Sunday Review in Dublin before becoming a news reporter for a variety of publications in London, Baghdad, Tehran and Beirut. Returning to Ireland he worked first with RTE before joining The Irish Times in 1974. He retired in 2002.
He served as Chairman of Dublin branch, and as a member of the Irish Executive Council and the National Executive Council.
Despite failing health he continued to attend branch meetings and maintained contact with former colleagues at The Irish Times, where he served for many years as chapel officer.
When I visited him in St James’s Hospital, Dublin, a few days before he died in August, Sean was very ill, yet he appreciated a gift of John McCormack CDs from Dublin branch and the ward echoed to the strains of his singing his party piece, “Without a Song”.
Séamus Dooley