You wouldn’t be reading this if it wasn’t for the late Eugene McGee. I’m sure of it. I was 16 years old and he was the owner of the Cavan Leader newspaper and had been an All-Ireland winning manager. Plus, he had been Cavan manager for four years. He personified my two great loves, journalism and sport. Back then, he was a big name in both.

It was the summer of 1989 and I was feeling what must have been a calling to journalism.

A couple of days later during the busy silage-making time, the phone rang in my grandmother’s house. It was Eugene McGee. A moment I will never forget

So I nervously wrote a letter to Eugene asking if I could spend a week in the Cavan Leader, sister paper of the more prestigious Longford Leader of which he was managing editor. A couple of days later during the busy silage-making time, the phone rang in my grandmother’s house. It was Eugene McGee. A moment I will never forget.

The following morning, I reported for duty and ended up spending the summer in the Cavan Leader. Young Ciaran Mullooly was the editor.

I finally got to meet Eugene McGee whom I had looked up to as somewhat of a hero

He took me to court cases and county council meetings. I reported from club football matches. And I finally got to meet Eugene McGee whom I had looked up to as somewhat of a hero.

He told me I had a “good aptitude” for writing. The rest is history. I spent the following summer after my Leaving Cert working there again. I had applied to study journalism in Rathmines College but the points were way out of reach.

There was another course starting in Ballyfermot Senior College in Dublin. I would have to go for an interview. They were not so much interested in my Leaving Cert results, but more my interest and experience in journalism. So I whipped out my portfolio of articles from two summers work in the Cavan Leader. I was in.

Eugene may have had a persona of being short and gruff. Anything but. He was caring and generous and droll

Six years later I was working in RTÉ. Eugene noted, “that’s RTÉ for you, getting a fella from Castleknock to talk about bullocks and heifers!” – typical McGee wit.

Eugene may have had a persona of being short and gruff. Anything but. He was caring and generous and droll. He didn’t have to ring me in 1989 and invite me into his newspaper, but he did.

I owe everything I have achieved and enjoyed in my media career to one man and one man only, Eugene McGee, my first boss

Had he not, I don’t think I’d have had the courage to look for that work experience anywhere else and so probably wouldn’t have possessed the necessary collection of writing which clinched me a spot on that course in Ballyfermot.

So I owe everything I have achieved and enjoyed in my media career to one man and one man only, Eugene McGee, my first boss. I was so sorry to hear of his untimely death last Sunday week.

Aptly, it was from Ciaran Mullooly I received the news. And at his removal last week, the stories were legendary, all of us with a “McGee yarn” to share. It may sound like a cliché, but his likes will never be seen again. May he rest in peace.

Did we make a mistake here?

It’s hard to believe that it is 20 years since the Government sold off Telecom Éireann. Over half a million of us half-wits bought shares. And after an initial rise, they fell in value and our dreams of becoming millionaire experts in stocks and shares plummeted too. If memory serves me correctly, it was a Government plan which didn’t meet with all that much opposition. We were all mad for the money back then.

So it’s easy now to look back in anger. But as this Government stumbles from one broadband roll-out crisis to another, one wonders what if the State still had its own telecommunications company, would we not be able to bloody well get on with it? Just saying!