BY JOHN FITZGERALD
(Part Two)
Like many Irish people in the fifties, Jimmy Walsh emigrated to England. He worked in a steel plant for three years, devoting every spare moment to his passion for boxing. He trained in the evenings after work and, together with fellow Callanite, Johnny O’ Donovan, boxed his way across London, winning numerous titles. He showed me a newspaper cutting concerning a typical fight, held in the town of Finchly.
The writer loved Jimmy’s boxing style: “For me”, he enthused, “The Irishman Walsh’s performance re-kindled thoughts of the days when boxing was an art form. What flamboyant punching! What truly spectacular ring craft!”
Other correspondents referred to Jimmy’s impressive dancing ability in the ring, hinting perhaps at his other, as yet unexplored gift for “stepping it out” in the ballrooms.
Upon returning from exile, Jimmy happened to be dancing one night in the local hall when friends complimented him on his command of the dance floor. He decided to enter old-time dancing competitions, and was soon winning prizes left, right, and centre at venues around the county.
He particularly excelled at the slow fox trot and tango, and he could switch from one dancing technique to another in an instant with the greatest of ease. The man who could deliver a knockout punch in the ring was a picture of grace and elegance on the dance floor.
His late wife Stella accompanied him in many of the contests he won. He is still devoted to her. “Stella’s memory is precious to me”, he reflected, indicating a beautiful portrait on the wall behind him. Stella took Jimmy from the hazards of the boxing ring to the joyous ballrooms of romance.
He worshipped her. In the portrait, she is surrounded by a rich, flower-filled landscape, her radiant smile dominating the scene.
The old courthouse in Callan is a place that also holds a memory or two for Jimmy. As a child, he and his sister, Peggy, played around the building where his father was a caretaker. In the evenings, Jimmy and Peggy would listen to his tales of crime and punishment. They would hear of pleadings, verdicts, forensic evidence, and blue uniforms.
The flowing robes of lawyers fascinated Jimmy as they shuffled about looking extremely important. He remembers a time when the courthouse echoed to the sound of music and dancing feet. The Old Charter Players rehearsed their variety shows and plays there.
And John Locke’s hurling team used the venue for training in 1959 before the County Final. In the 40s, the Home Guard or Local Defence Force met in the building.
Jimmy and his pals also boxed there- “though not while court was in session”, he remarked wryly.
He would like to see more young fellows take up boxing- “It’s an honourable sport. It gives them an edge against the bullies of this world”, he observed, “and it turns them into real men.”
And he recommends dancing in the old fashioned way to everybody. The boxing ring and the ballroom bring out the best in people, he believes, and who could argue with him?
