[extracts from the Appletree Press title Legends of Irish Boxing published by Appletree Press]

Ireland had declared itself as a republic in 1949 and very little was known about the island on the world stage. One story McNally relates illustrates that point to perfection.
      “It was only after the final in Helsinki did I learn that the Olympic officials knew so little about Ireland that they thought the name of the National Anthem was ‘It’s a long way to Tipperary’. Indeed they had that record lined up to play should I have won – in which case, maybe the silver medal, in reality was just meant to be.”

Given that the only athlete from either Britain or Ireland to claim a gold medal at the Helsinki Olympic was a horse called ‘Foxhunter’, ridden by Harry Llewellyn, McNally’s silver was big news across Ireland. Little did John know what awaited him in his native Belfast.
      “When we arrived back in Dublin, my father arranged for me to stay a couple of days with some friends of his. Now I realise that it was only to keep me out of the way while the homecoming was arranged. Eventually I took the Belfast train and I could not believe the numbers who were there to greet me. The crowds were so excited that they actually broke through the railings at the station to get to me. I was on top of the world that day and never felt so happy – it was only then that I realised how significant an achievement it all had been.”

However, the fact that McNally had represented with distinction an all-Ireland team did not meet with the blessing of all in his native city. Politics in Belfast were never far away from the reality of daily life and McNally recalled one episode that caused him grief on his return from Helsinki.
      “I had been invited to the Ritz Cinema, where a number of prominent dignitaries were to make a presentation to me on the stage. The film to be shown was the premiere of Jim Thorpe – All American which was about the Native American who was stripped of his own Olympic medal because he had played professional baseball. I remember it so well; I was standing there in my Olympic blazer when my trainer approached me to say that a politician was refusing to go on stage with me unless I removed my blazer, as it had a Tricolour badge. My trainer was the type of man who would always try to smoothe over everything and he suggested that I just took the blazer off to avoid any embarrassment, which, to my regret, I did. Only after I had left the cinema that night did I get really wound up and angry about the whole thing and realised that I should never have taken the blazer off.”

After the heights of the Olympic Games, McNally joined the paid ranks in what he still feels was the greatest mistake of his career.
      “There are no friends in a professional boxing ring and all the enjoyment you get as an amateur vanishes. In reality, you become just another means to an end for others and that is a fact. I was boxing out of London and not really enjoying my sport: it was a different game to the one I loved and I never settled as a professional.”

Once he had hung up his gloves, many people in Ireland got to know John McNally better for his banjo playing, than for his boxing. He was one of the founding members of the legendary folk band ‘The Freemen’, who played widely throughout the country in the 1970s and toured Europe extensively. Many followers of the band would have had no idea that the talented banjo player was also a legend of Irish sport.
      Today, in his mid-seventies, John is a picture of health and as he talks it is with the enthusiasm of somebody who has lived life to the full. Apart from turning professional, John’s other regret in boxing terms is that he felt that he never got the recognition in Ireland that his feat in Helsinki deserved.
      “I feel some time like the invisible man of Irish boxing,” he explained. “I was the first to win a boxing medal at the Olympics for Ireland and sometimes it seems that it never happened. Recently, a wall mural was painted in Belfast in tribute to the champions who had come from the Immaculata club and I was not included. I am a man born and bred in that area and I represented that club so I feel again overlooked. I am not bitter for I have had a life that others can only dream of and my achievements will always be in the record books.”

Perhaps it is in keeping with the unassuming and polite nature of John that this is his philosophy. On the reasons why Belfast, and the Falls Road in particular, has over the years produced so many fighters of note, John is sure in his response.
      “In one word it’s poverty that has been the biggest factor in creating the conditions for boxing to flourish. There is no doubt that times were very hard back then and people had to adapt to survive and that is why so many became great fighters.” When asked about the most important advice he could ever give to a boxer, he recalled something that was said to him by an Egyptian fighter at the weigh-in for the 1952 Olympic Games. The Egyptian had been on the end of some insults from Iranian fighters in the queue, yet he refused to become involved in the petty insults. Instead he just remained quiet and ignored the abuse. McNally asked the Egyptian why he did not defend himself, and with a glance in McNally’s eyes, responded. “Irishman, I will do my talking in the ring and remember this always: when somebody has beaten you, take your hat off to them; when you beat somebody, take your hat off to them also – but make sure it fits your head when you put it back on.”

That gem of civility is something that has stuck with Gentleman John since 1952 – and you can tell!

Read the final part of John McNally - The Man Who made Olympic History

Extracted from the Appletree Press title: Legends of Irish Boxing by Barry Flynn.
Also available from Appletree Press: John McNally - Boxing's Forgotten Hero by Barry Flynn