Big Harry was more than a clubmate, he was a real-life hero

IWAS jolted out of my Saturday morning slumber by some truly devastating news. Billy Dodd had sent a text at 4.47 a.m. to inform his Sarsfields colleagues that John Harrington - one of the most inspiring leaders the club has ever produced both on and off the field - had died suddenly from a massive heart attack in the early hours.

After sitting bolt upright, I stared at that telephone screen not wanting to accept it was true, veering between complete shock and utter disbelief.

And as the reality slowly dawned, the tears flowed freely for a man who meant the world to me, even though I never told him that to his face.

He was so much more than just a clubmate and a dear friend, as that only scratched the surface of what I really thought of Big Harry.

I wrote in this column some years ago that the late Brazilian motor racing driver, Ayrton Senna, was my sporting hero, and that was indeed the case.

However, he had strong company in that category, and it came from the gentle giant whose gut-wrenching loss at the age of 51 has left me, and many others, in a daze since Saturday morning.

The respect and admiration I held for that man knew no bounds. His 112 appearances for the Wexford Senior footballers left me bursting with pride, and it meant so much to see a Sarsfields player, one of our own, representing his club and county with such distinction.

John thrived in an era when midfield play was usually based around a pair of big men battling head-to-head against their markers in a survival of the fittest and the bravest.

It was quite a regular occurrence to chat with him at a club meeting or training session during the week, and then cheer him to the hilt on the Sunday when he would bring his customary leadership, strength, experience and utter defiance to bear against some of the best footballers of his generation.

Honestly, to look at him in action, and to draw delight from the fact he was a Sarsfields clubman just like me - that was a special feeling that never grew old.

And as for his performances in our own cherished red and yellow jersey, suffice to say that he would be an automatic choice at midfield on any greatest-ever Butters team.

He would have been my captain without question, a highly-respected man with the heart of a lion whose inspiring deeds filled us with joy and made us so proud and grateful to call him our colleague.

He was selected as man of the match in the replayed county Senior final of 1993, even though we were on the losing side to Kilanerin, and that said it all about his talent as a footballer.

There was so much more to John, though, and his outstanding qualities as a father and protector shone through after the death of his dear wife, Tina, from cancer at the age of 44 in July, 2007.

My admiration for the man may have developed originally from what he achieved on the field, but it rose to even greater heights in the days, months and years that followed as he wrapped his big, strong arms around his young daughters, Emma and Ciara, and showered them with unbridled love.

When Scott Doran passed away suddenly after Christmas, John recalled rooming with the then teenager on his first overnight trip with Wexford. Scott was so excited at the prospect of playing the next day that he talked non-stop, just like a child on Christmas Eve.

It’s hard to believe that they are about to join forces again on the strongest team of all in heaven, with John winning the 50-50 balls in midfield and delivering the passes for Scott to stick over the bar.

Saturday marked the 100-year anniversary, to the very day, of the last leg of Wexford’s four-in-a-row All-Ireland Senior football triumph, which was achieved on February 16, 1919.

And for the rest of my life I will now remember it as the day when we lost one of the finest players the county produced in the modern generation, a gentle giant who never let his colleagues down.

Farewell Big Harryww, and thanks for everything. You never knew I regarded you as a hero, but I hope you get a chance to read this some time after being re-united with loved ones in your new abode.

You were a special human being in so many ways, and I’m all the better for knowing you. Sleep well, my dear, departed friend.