A guiding light and an inspiring presence disappeared from many lives with the death of Sean Siggins, Carrigeen Street, Wexford, after a short illness. To the wider GAA community he was known as the President of both the adult and under-age County Boards; a man whom everyone listened to when he made his annual Convention speeches. However, to his colleagues in the Sarsfields club he was much more than that. He was our leader, the person we turned to for sound advice and support, and he never let us down. He was known as 'The Chief', and this alone summed up the huge respect which he commanded. The genuine affection for Sean knew no age boundaries; that was reflected in the number of club colleagues, young and old, who wanted to be part of the guard of honour for him at his removal and funeral last week. It was shown in an even more touching manner when Stephen Kearney, the three-goal hero of the club's recent Under-10 Shield triumph, placed his medal in the coffin with a note explaining how the boys had won it for Sean. Promoting Gaelic games among the young fold was always high on the 'The Chief's agenda. I first got to know him when I started playing football in the annual Under-12 tournaments which he organised with the late Martin 'Murks' Crowley in Harvey's Field at the rear of Marian Row. In that location a championship-winning team was prepared, and the crowning glory came when we won the county title in centenary year, beating Horeswood in the final. The significance of the occasion might have been lost on the players, but it was only in later times that I fully appreciated why this victory was so special to 'The Chief' - It meant that sarsfields became the first club in the history of the Association in Wexford to win football championships in every grade from Under-12 to Senior, and he always looked upon that team with particularly high regard as a result. That was the supreme achievement for a man who was involved in the re-formation of the club in 1951 and who captained the Junior-winning Street League team of that year. 'The Chief' was no mean footballer, having played with the great Volunteers teams of the late 1930s and early 1940s at a time when Sarsfields briefly went out of existence. His talents were recognised by the county selectors too, but he will be best remembered by the current generation as an outstanding administrator. He capably filled many roles with his beloved 'Butters', with his talents best utilised in the role of Secretary over many years. He was joint President at the time of his passing and got a particular kick out of filling that position. However, it was far from an honourary role as far as 'The Chief' was concerned. Indeed, a mere two days before his final illness took hold, he was sitting in his favourite corner of The Gaelic Bar at a committee meeting, eager to put the finishing touches to the club's centenary reunion and the Mass which he had organised almost single-handedly. There was deep disappointment when Seán couldn't attend our celebrations, because nobody deserved to be a part of that special night any more than a man who had literally given a lifetime of service. A poignant moment at that function was the presentation of a specially-inscribed watch (Taoiseach na Sáirséalaigh) to Séan's brother, Phil, while a photograph of the great man himself looked down on the assembled throng from the big screen. There was a certain significance in the timing of 'The Chief's' much regretted passing. Just over 24 hours earlier, the last official club function of centenary year had taken place when Starlights and Glynn-Barntown shared the Brendan Redmond Under-10 Cup title. It was as though Seán had stayed on to supervise from afar, and to make sure that his fellow committee members were doing everything properly. Once that last task was successfully accomplished, he was ready to made his own final journey. All of us will have personal, special memories of 'The Chief', and I was particularly close to him as I was his chauffeur for a lot of meetings and club matches. He led a remarkable life, and I never heard him complain even though tragedy had visited his doorstep more than once. He married Rita Harpur from William Street in August, 1956, but was widowed in December of the following year when his wife died on the birth of their son, Eamonn. Happily, 'The Chief' found happiness again with Brenda whom he married in 1969, and together they raised Damian, Emmet, Brian, Donal and Christine before his wife lost her battle with cancer in 1989. Seán's strong faith saw him through those troubled times, and he was a regular at 7.30am Mass in Bride Street where he did the readings. And if he wasn't attending a GAA meeting, his most likely port of call in the evenings was the church where he would pray with the Adoration Nuns. He may have turned 85 last May, but he was always on the move and led an active life up to his final three weeks, He ended to his back garden with loving care, and many's the Sarsfield who had received either flowers or vegetables grown in Carrigeen by 'The Chief'. He was our school liaison officer long and ever before the term became common. As I passed Wexford C.B.S on the way back to work at 2pm., it was a regular sight to see Seán walking up Thomas Street on his way to coaching young footballers in the finer points of the game. He would always keep me posted en route to meetings, and had a keen eye for budding talent. 'I saw a right one in third class today,' was a familiar refrain from a man who knew the game like the back of his hand. If the conversation wasn't about the GAA, you could rest assured that it centred on his family, because his children and nine grand-daughters meant the world to 'The Chief'. You only needed to hear the way he referred to them to appreciate that - it was always 'my Eamonn'. 'my Damian' etc., and his pride and joy was 'my Christine' whom he simply adored. He was a big fan of the boxing on Eurosport, and I remember him telling me with a chuckle not to long ago that a second Sky box had to be installed in Carrigeen to feed his habit! He had a distinctive style on the telephone which I'll never forget. It will take a while to realise that I'll never forget. It will take a while to realise that I'll never hear 'Hello, Seán Siggins' in that commanding voice again. And when the business was done, his parting shot was always the same - you would hear the word 'good' at the other end, the telephone would be put down, and you knew that 'The Chief' was gone to say a few prayers, to potter about in his garden, to visit the C.B.S., or maybe to do some shopping. I would often see him either going to or coming from early morning Mass on a Monday and Tuesday when I made my own way to the office. An while I might be bemoaning the workload ahead of me, my mood would always life when I thought of 'The Chief', of all he had been through, and how he still made sure that every second of every day was well spent. I know I could write a book on my dear friend, and I'm sure that I will regret leaving out some special memories when I read this again. He truly was one in a million, and all in the Sarsfields will never, ever forget him. Farewell 'Chief' and rest easy - our meetings and matches just won't be the same without you. Courtesy of Alan Aherne at the Wexford People. November 21, 2007. Tweet

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