“A man on a mission, dedicated intent.”
“It’s a long way to Tipperary, but it’s a lot quicker with Kelly in the saddle.”
“A time trial is turning out to be a sprint.”
And then, as the noise in Clonmel began to rise:
“Look at the crowds, look at the enthusiasm here in Clonmel. KELLY GOES FOR IT… KELLY TAKES IT! And not alone that, he is 49 seconds better than Stephen Roche.”
Jimmy Magee and Phil Liggett, commentating on the 1985 Nissan Classic as Sean Kelly hurtled from Sean Kelly Square in Carrick-on-Suir towards Clonmel.
If you are an Irish cycling fan of a certain vintage, you probably didn’t even need to read those words.
You could hear them.
You could hear Jimmy Magees voice. You could see Kelly, head down, huge gear turning, small drop of sweat on the end of his nose, absolutely burying himself.
And then there was Roche.
Two years later, high in the French Alps:
“Again Pedro Delgado has slipped Stephen Roche…”
Delgado was disappearing up the road towards La Plagne and Roche looked beaten.
Then a figure appeared through the crowd.
“And just who is that rider coming up behind? THAT LOOKS LIKE ROCHE… THAT LOOKS LIKE STEPHEN ROCHE… IT’S STEPHEN ROCHE WHO HAS COME OVER THE LINE!”
Phil Liggett could barely believe what he was watching.
Neither could Ireland.
Roche had somehow dragged himself back to within 4 seconds of Delgado.
“Surely, Paul Sherwen, Stephen Roche is now going to win this Tour de France.”
He did.
And an entire country went cycling mad.
And then there was the music…
You can’t properly remember Irish cycling in the 1980s without remembering the soundtrack.
Sean Kelly hammering along the road from Carrick to Clonmel accompanied by:
Bonnie Tyler – Holding Out for a Hero.
Glenn Frey – The Heat Is On.
Subtle it wasn’t.
Brilliant it absolutely was.
Then Stephen Roche’s Tour de France highlights:
Christopher Cross – Ride Like the Wind.
And U2’s With or Without You.
Stick any of those songs on today and there is a generation of Irish cycling fans who are instantly transported back almost forty years.
Back to St Patrick’s Hill in Cork.
Back to O’Connell Street in Dublin.
Back to crowds several people deep lining roads to watch men riding bicycles.
Imagine trying to explain that to a teenager today.
No TikTok. No Instagram. No live tracker.
You stood on the side of a road for three hours, somebody shouted “THEY’RE COMING!”, 150 cyclists disappeared past you in approximately eleven seconds…
…and you went home delighted with yourself.
But that was the magic of it.
Ireland stopped.
Because two lads from this tiny island had somehow become two of the greatest cyclists on the planet.
Sean Kelly and Stephen Roche.
The Messi and Ronaldo of their generation.
Except Messi and Ronaldo never had to descend the Wicklow Gap in horizontal rain wearing a glorified woollen vest.
Fast forward nearly forty years…
Last Sunday in Limerick something rather special happened.
For a few hours, those days came back.
Anybody lucky enough to attend the Sean Kelly 3 Counties Cycle in aid of Down Syndrome Limerick got a little glimpse of what Irish cycling was like at its absolute peak.
Kelly was there.
Roche was there.
And grown men suddenly became twelve years old again.
One gentleman summed it up perfectly when he said to me:
“They were the best days of my life, watching the two of them conquer the world — and both from this tiny island of ours.”
You could see exactly what he meant.
As soon as Kelly and Roche appeared, there was a scrum.
Hundreds of people surrounded them.
Selfies.
Autographs.
Stories.
Handshakes.
More selfies.
People who probably hadn’t moved that quickly in twenty years suddenly displaying Mark Cavendish-like acceleration when somebody whispered:
“Kelly is over there.”
At one stage it took about twenty minutes for them to move five metres.
The start was delayed slightly.
Nobody cared.
Because Sean and Stephen didn’t disappear behind a barrier or hide in a VIP area.
They stood there and met people.
Again.
And again.
And again.
For two men who have probably signed their names several million times at this stage, they somehow understood that for the person standing in front of them, this autograph might be the one they have waited forty years to get.
And that mattered.
But here’s the thing.
As special as it was having two giants of world cycling together in Limerick, this event isn’t really about Sean Kelly.
It isn’t about Stephen Roche either.
The real story begins somewhere else entirely.
Enter Robbie the Jeweller
Many years ago, Robbie Kenneally — aka Robbie the Jeweller — was the Under-14 Burgerland Limerick County Champion.
And don’t laugh.
Sean Kelly won Paris-Roubaix.
Stephen Roche won the Tour de France.
Robbie won the Under-14 Burgerland Limerick County Championship.
A palmarès is a palmarès.
Around sixteen years ago Robbie met another cycling enthusiast, Richard Walsh, in the gym.
A friendship developed and, over time, Richard introduced Robbie and his family to his own family — including his larger-than-life son, Ritchie, who has Down syndrome.
And if you’ve met Ritchie, you’ll remember him.
He’s one of those people who seems to brighten a room simply by walking into it.
There’s no ego.
No pretence.
His heart is firmly on his sleeve and his sense of humour usually isn’t very far behind.
But behind that personality is something most of us never see.
Like many people with Down syndrome, Ritchie has worked incredibly hard at things the rest of us barely think about.
Speech.
Movement.
Coordination.
Independence.
Communication.
Skills most of us simply acquire while growing up can require years of additional work and professional support.
Speech and language therapy.
Physiotherapy.
Occupational therapy.
And those supports cost money.
A lot of money.
That’s why fundraising isn’t simply about handing over a giant novelty cheque and getting a photograph for Facebook.
It changes what families can actually provide for their children.
The Tour de Munster
When Richard asked Robbie to join him on the Tour de Munster, Robbie agreed.
For anyone unfamiliar with it, the Tour de Munster isn’t exactly four days of leisurely cycling followed by scones.
Around 100 cyclists cover roughly 180 kilometres a day for four days while raising money for Down syndrome organisations throughout Munster.
By day four, sitting on a toilet becomes a carefully planned manoeuvre.
Getting back off it can require outside assistance.
But every sore backside has a purpose.
At the centre of the Tour de Munster is Paul Sheridan — the brains, brawn, heart and occasionally the cattle prod behind an event that has raised millions of euro.
Paul has always encouraged people involved with the Tour to take that spirit home with them.
Don’t just raise money once a year.
Do something locally.
And somewhere along the way Robbie came onto Paul’s radar.
That wasn’t particularly difficult.
Robbie has what might politely be described as a large personality.
He also has an enormous network of contacts, an obsessive attention to detail and the ability to persuade people to do things they didn’t realise they had agreed to until several days later.
Paul saw potential.
Robbie saw work.
A lot of work.
So naturally, Robbie needed someone else to share it with.
Every good cyclist needs a domestique
Enter Ellen Tuffy.
Ellen had recently taken over as Chairperson of Down Syndrome Limerick and is mum to her son Charlie, who has Down syndrome.
Robbie had enthusiasm, contacts and cycling.
Ellen had first-hand understanding of exactly why the money mattered.
It was a formidable combination.
Robbie also knew Sean Kelly through the Tour de Munster.
And being a lifelong cycling fan, a thought occurred to him:
If you’re going to organise a cycling event, having Sean Kelly involved probably isn’t going to hurt.
And so the Sean Kelly 3 Counties Cycle was born.
What started as an idea has grown into one of Ireland’s biggest and best cycling sportives.
But events like this don’t magically appear on a Sunday morning.
What the cyclist sees is a start line, arrows, food stops, marshals and a finish.
What they don’t see are the previous twelve months.
Phone calls.
Meetings.
Sponsors.
Permits.
Routes.
Insurance.
Volunteers.
Gardai.
Food.
Signs.
Emails.
More phone calls.
And somebody at 10.47pm asking:
“Robbie, Ellen, what happens if it rains?”
It’s Ireland.
It might rain.
More than €100,000
Robbie has also turned his network of business contacts into a formidable fundraising machine.
Sponsors aren’t simply putting their names on signs.
They are helping fund services.
In a successful year, the Sean Kelly 3 Counties can raise more than €100,000 for Down Syndrome Limerick.
Think about that for a second.
One cycling event.
One day.
More than €100,000.
And that money doesn’t disappear into some abstract pot.
It helps provide speech and language therapy.
Physiotherapy.
Occupational therapy.
Therapeutic supports.
Employment preparation.
Support towards greater independence.
It helps children like Charlie.
It helps young adults like Ritchie.
It helps families.
It makes a real difference to people’s lives.
And suddenly your Sunday spin becomes something rather more important.
We cyclists can be a selfish bunch
Let’s admit it.
Most of us arrive at a sportive thinking about ourselves.
What’s the route like?
Who’s in my group?
Where’s the coffee stop?
Will I get dropped?
Is there cake?
Who’s that lunatic attacking on the first hill?
And most importantly:
Why is the man who told everyone this was a “social spin” now doing 430 watts?
We ride around for a few hours, admire the scenery, eat enough food at the stops to wipe out the calorie deficit, upload it to Strava and go home happy.
And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Cycling is supposed to be fun.
But every so often it’s worth scratching beneath the surface.
Because last Sunday, while hundreds of us were out enjoying ourselves on our bikes, something else was happening.
Money was being raised that will help a child communicate more clearly.
Help someone move more confidently.
Help a young adult prepare for employment.
Help somebody become a little more independent.
Help a family get support when they need it.
That’s a pretty decent return for spending a Sunday riding your bike.
And then, just to make the day completely ridiculous, you get to ride alongside Sean Kelly and Stephen Roche.
Two men we once watched conquering the cycling world.
Two men whose exploits brought hundreds of thousands of Irish people onto the streets.
Two men who inspired a generation to get on bicycles.
Nearly forty years later, they’re still doing it.
Only this time the finish line isn’t on St Patrick’s Hill.
It isn’t on O’Connell Street.
It isn’t in Clonmel.
And it isn’t on top of La Plagne.
This time, the victory is measured in something far more important than seconds.
It’s measured in opportunities.
In therapy sessions.
In independence.
In families supported.
In lives made a little better.
Back in 1985, Jimmy Magee described Sean Kelly as:
“A man on a mission, dedicated intent.”
Forty years later, you could say much the same about Robbie Kenneally, Ellen Tuffy and the extraordinary group of volunteers behind the Sean Kelly 3 Counties.
Kelly and Roche might still draw the crowds.
They might still cause grown men to elbow one another out of the way for a selfie.
And they’ll always be heroes to those of us who grew up watching them.
But perhaps the nicest thing about last Sunday was discovering that there were plenty of other heroes there too.
They just weren’t wearing yellow jerseys.
