BOYLAN TALKS SPORT: Brendan Cummins – A Tribute

It would appear to be from my late uncle Jimmy that I inherited the gene as a GAA souvenir collector, whether it be match programmes (mostly), ticket stubs or photographs.

I never knew Jimmy as he had passed a year before I was airlifted into the world, but well qualified sources attest the similarities are numerous.

Thankfully, the old man had rescued whatever few artefacts of value – sentimental or otherwise – before my most beloved place met a completely ill-fitting, heartbreaking end.

One such rescued gem is poignantly to the forefront of thoughts this weekend. The photo of the Meath team which contested the All Ireland SFC final of 1939. Captained by the great Mattie Gilsenan, that team also included Hughie Lynch, whose son Declan has become a treasured friend over the last decade or so.

But, this evening it is another celebrated member of that team that comes to mind, the late Jack Cummins, following the passing of his son Brendan - my mentor, colleague and, above all else, friend.

Besides the obvious heartache at the loss of somebody held so dear, the other abiding feeling as Brendan’s passing began to penetrate the mindset was one of mournful gratitude at having had the opportunity to give Brendan and his brother Pat copies of the 1939 photo.

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The voice of sport in Meath has fallen silent. LMFM Radio first hit the airwaves in 1988/’89, with Brendan joining the team in 1992. Back then, Shay Savage was the anchor/presenter of Sunday Sport while Brendan and another sadly missed colleague and friend, the late Kevin Mallon, graced sidelines up and down the county and country bringing Meath GAA to life.

I’m not sure at what stage Shay left LMFM, but what is known absolutely for certain is that, from the time I followed another of Uncle Jimmy’s footprints and got involved with St Peter’s, Dunboyne at committee level, both as Co Board PRO and head of sport at the local radio station, Brendan couldn’t have been more patient, understanding and encouraging. As were all branches of the local media to be fair.

If there’s one thing liable to grind the gears of the occupant of this seat, it’s either folk who can’t see past the seat, or can, but, assume that one cannot intellectually function of one’s own accord. To their credit, that was never an issue with any of the local press pack, but it still gave me quite the lift to see me doing thlngs which, in my case, wouldn’t cost me a thought.

For example, prior to and after Dunboyne’s first Meath SFC success of 1998, former Meath Chronicle reporter Carlo Divito and Brendan – writing in the Meath GAA Yearbook – both observed “17-year-old Boylan arrives to every (Dunboyne) match armed with typed out team sheets – one for each of the local press – as well as summaries of Dunboyne’s recent form, stats and previous meetings with opponents”.

Just doing my job lads. Except it never feels like a job. Chances are, a lot of the surprise and plaudits stemmed from everything being typed out. But what they wouldn’t have known was that typing was out of necessity as you’d read Brail handier than my handwriting!

When you work in tandem with someone for as long as was the case with Brendan and I, it wouldn’t be normal if sparks didn’t fly an odd time. Only once in 27 years. And, while another individual could justifiably be labelled as stirring the sh**, it was entirely my fault. Youthful naivety and lack of street smarts.

Our club had a very high profile fundraiser upcoming and I would have been strongly of the view that Brendan should’ve been the only MC even considered.

But my ‘superior’ plumped for an RTE hasbeen who would know as much about GAA as a cow would about Bank Holidays. Worse still, the genius guiding me says “Make sure you send (Brendan) Cummins a copy of the press release about… “

To which, wholly unsurprisingly, my esteemed colleague replied "What the hell is that, some sort of joke? ” Now, cognisant of the fact that relationships are a huge part of what makes working in media doable, there was no way I was taking the fall for it on a solo run.

So the text message got the following reply – “Only following instructions from XXX, take it up with them”. Which, being the thorough and loyal gentleman he was, he duly did, and a cross word never passed between us again.

In fact, as former Meath senior football captain Shane McEntee eloquently put it on Saturday afternoon “A great man, and somebody who you always knew had your back in doing his job once Meath were involved”.

Shane recently turned 31, but to a fella like me, that makes him seem like only a youngster. Yet the reverence, respect and genuine warmth with which the army officer spoke of the deceased is indicative of the esteem in which he was held by Gaels of all ages near and far.

This writer can personally vouch for the validity of both strands of my club mate’s observation. Objectivity absolutely went out the window with the voice of Meath GAA once anybody representing the county was involved. And secondly, from a personal perspective, the value of and comfort in knowing BC had your back was incalculable.

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As was said following the passing of another County Board stalwart once, the longer we spent together, the more we realised we had in common. To the extent that, when the opportunity came for me to run against him for the county PR position, rather than be offended by that, he welcomed it.

Going so far as to lobby the powers-that-be to create a role of Asst. PRO but the will wasn’t there to pursue it.

However, time has proven that, as the years went on, he was assisting me. As in, assisting in keeping these wheels turning by way of keeping me as close as could be to the action at a time when being there in person wasn’t an option.

Well, that is to say, himself and Mattie Kerrigan did. Brendan and Mattie. What a double act. One to a certain extent the Godfather of Meath football, the other with a Hawking-esque swathe of knowledge on same.

At my own expense, it will be admitted that my own relationship with Mattie didn’t get off to the greatest of starts. Our respective clubs having been involved in a number of feisty encounters in rapid succession to each other and headstrong me wasn’t long about telling Mattie what I thought of him and his team.

Like so many facets of my life, though, bridges were built and hatchets buried one night in Brady’s of Dunboyne. When the Two Ronnies of the local sports media stopped in on the way from Croke Park on what was a great day for Meath football and a particularly proud one for the Summerhill club.

The Royals, then under the guidance of ‘Banty’ McEneaney unexpectedly beating Kildare on a day Conor Gillespie ruled the skies around Dublin 3.

The world does indeed work in mysterious ways. Brendan’s beloved Dunsany did eventually win the Meath JFC at the ninth time of asking just months before his death, Conor has gone on to be the huge influence on the future of Meath football that Brendan and so many of us felt he always would be. Albeit not in the sense any of us would have wished.

And so this journey of grieving tribute nears its end, the mind is drawn to our last meeting which, though months ago now, stabs like a stitch in your side. “Hopefully I’ll be here to see one more Cheltenham” were the last words he ever said to me.

Alas he will be laid to rest just as the flag falls on the first at Prestbury Park on Tuesday. Rest easy old friend, your pain is over.