I think that tournament was named after an uncle of mine. He may have been a founder member. He definitely made a significant contribution in keeping the bar profitable.
the Philip O’Dwyer invitational?
Better than the Graham Dwyer invitational…
You never telt us you were wan of us kid.
I’ll sign you up to friends of Limerick newsletter
Ah he was a south kikenny roaster who moved down to Limerick in the 60s to work in Clover meats. He loved Kilkenny hurling, na piarsaigh, shannon rugby and alcohol.
We can agree on the pints at least I suppose
Tommy was a gas man. God the stories I could tell about him. He used get an awful slagging over his Ferrybank/Kilkenny fan status. He’d give as good as he took. Better most times. He died unfortunately before Kilkenny’s recent successes.
I told the story on here before about the quiz night and the argument over Schillaci’s first name. Tommy’s table of course put down Toto. Salvatore is of course the correct action. There was murder.
We were out in Patrickswell one night playing a hurling match and Tommy arrives into the dressing room bursting for a shite. Of course there was no toilet paper. The effing and blinding out of him. So he takes off and arrives back in with a fist full of dock leaves and grass. The slagging he got.
The Hitler tasher was the making of his character. He hated Munster refs with a vengeance. Sure he was too easy wind up.
They don’t make them like him anymore, some character.
Somehow the frame has survived the wife’s heavy hand. I don’t know where the picture is gone though.
GLENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!
There’s a sculpture of that outside the Tallow GAA grounds
Thats the man. He wasn’t shy about advertising his bowel movements. This is a story about him and his bowels that i posted here before…
I was in Fagans before the 1987 All Ireland before with my Father and Uncle a turbo Roaster up from the wilds of South Kilkenny for the day. It was early, about 12 o clock so the place was busy but not packed. My uncle announced loudly (he did everything loudly) that he was going to take a shit. He emerged from the jacks a good 15 minutes later and headed straight for the bar. It was 3 deep at the bar but this didn’t deter Uncle Roaster. He started calling loudly Hey! HEY! until he attracted the attention of one of the bar women. When he had everyone’s attention he announced “THERE IS NO SHIT ROLL IN THAT TOILET! I’M AFTER TAKING A SHIT AND THERE IS NO SHIT ROLL. YOU NEED TO GET SOME SHIT ROLL IN THAT TOILET”. The bar staff rooted around for a while and eventually a “shit roll” was passed through the crowd back to my uncle. I still recall the burning shame when he returned from the jacks a second time and sat down beside us. Even my aul lad who was normally immune to embarrassment of any kind was sheepish.
The combination of roasters and shite will be right up his alley
I did indeed enjoy it. I wonder did he have dirty jocks after coming out looking for the paper, what with a shitty hole and all.
I’d say there was a bang of shite off him for the day
Great story in the Irish times about John o Shea owning a horse with Kevin Kilbane.