Meaney, Joe
January 18, 2008
When Joe Meaney, Noonan, Ruan better known as Jazzer, passed away. I knew that we had lost one of the greatest men ever to represent Ruan on the hurling fields.
He and I were reared up together. Ruan has had a hurling tradition for centuries and we followed that tradition. He came across the fields from Nooan in the evenings and weekends and we played hurling for hours with many other in front of the churchyard wall on the other side of the old graveyard and beside the Fairy Hole in Porte Hill. We also served mass together.
Joe has a powerful pair of wrists and arms and we had to be in full of our health to cope with his powerful, fast strokes. Even in those early days I feared him. I knew that he had something that I was unable to cope with. I knew that he was better than I was. I knew he was adventurous, daring, skilful and fearless and even then I knew that if I was to make an impact on the game of hurling I would have to be able to cope in some way with his talents.
And so it was in this way that we practiced and learned together and that we made our way through all grades of hurling with Ruan: juvenile, minor, junior, intermediate and senior. And we were together when we won three titles in 1948, junior, intermediate and senior. And then we were promoted to the Clare junior and senior team.
We played together at centre-field for the parish and county. Joe played for a number of years in senior championship hurling and won the junior home title in 1949. On this day he scored a point from a dropped-puck at centre field, the likes of which will never be seen again. He met the best and was as good as the best He challenged everything and feared nothing.
During my career with him I earned a hurling reputation that was due entirely to his method of play. I never really had to challenge of a ball by myself. He went after everything and everybody with the result that there were many loose balls hanging around, which I was able to pick up easily enough. He had a great reputation himself but he also created a reputation for me. I remember saying to him at one time, "If I had your hands Jazzer, no one in Ireland would touch me." And he replied, "If I had your head no one in Ireland would touch me either."
Jazzer was one of the last four survivors of the Ruan team that won the county championship in 1948. Around 1947, a group of young hurlers joined a remarkable band of old warriors to bring joy and pride to the parish and Jazzer was one of those. We can never forget him for this contribution to this win. He also won county championship medals in 1951 and 1959.
Joe was a serious man to challenge in anything. He was his own man and he had his own views. He chewed over every view but he never swallowed unless he liked the taste. He was a nice man, very friendly, very courteous very kind and a great neighbour. He loved fun and humour but they had to play second fiddle to his honesty. Everyone knew instinctively that his dignity had to be respected.
Joe came from a great hurling family. His father Paddy and his uncle Tom gave years of service to Ruan hurling. His mother was O'Shea from Ruan, whose nephews Mick, not alone played with Ruan but was the administrative guiding light of the club for many years. His brothers, Christy, Patsy and Tony were vital links in those successful years and his sisters Mary Anne and Bridie not alone fed them in their preparations but were responsible for preserving for all time that remarkable ballad on the 1948 final v Clarecastle. Joe and his family never looked for thanks but the parish knew and knows their worth.
For the last thirty years Joe concentrated on his horses. He wasn't a great horseman but he loved the horses. There was something about a horse that stirred every fibre of his being. For him there was a loveliness, an innocence, a simplicity, a reverence and an honesty about a horse. He treated horses with kindness, generosity and understanding. And he also loved the beagles and the hunting. "No orchestra" he told me, "could compete with the sound of beagles as they raced at full flight across the top of Porte Hill."
And he also loved the sound of traditional Irish music and dancing. He also liked the odd pint, good conversation and good music and dancing.
He had a problem in later years with his walking. But like everything else he took his suffering in his stride. Pain to Jazzer was just another step in the thorny way of life. He had many pains and aches but he never complained. He was never lonely with himself and if he was we never knew it. He was very forgiving and he rarely made judgements.
The following poem was written some years ago by Jack Ryan. Limerick, nephew of Mickie Kelly, noted balled maker from Ruan village. It is called "A Hurler's Wish."
I feel that it may include many of Joe's wishes for an ideal life in the next world.
Oh God! Please grant that when this life I'll yield
That in heaven you'll have a hurling field;
With goalposts white and a green field grand
And sunny days and a grand pipe band.
And maybe, God, a singer or two
To lilt a ballad for me and you.
Then all I'd wish is to spend each day
Watching all the great hurlers play.
With Ring and Mackey and Rackard too
And Semple and Lory to name a few.
To watch Scanlon or Daly mind the net.
You'll promise too it won't be wet.
Ten year tickets, they will not be
Your ones will be for eternity
No corporate funding you'll require
For who was it said, "God loves a trier".
Where every one is the same as you
In red or white or gold or blue
Your field dear Lord will have a mighty stand
To hold the people from every land;
Jew and Gentile, Pole and Moor,
For the kings and queens and the humble poor;
Put St Patrick on the gate
For the new arrivals might be late
So line the field and cut the grass
I know some day it will come to pass
When all will go to the final game
Where rich and poor will be the same
Joe was a symbol of all that was best in Ruan
We will miss him
Ar dheis De go raibh a anam
By Jimmy Smyth
Courtesy of the Clare Champion, 18th January 2008
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