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The Journal
a day ago
- Sport
- The Journal
Rory McIlroy's Portrush gesture completes one man's 19-year journey to replace what was lost
The 42 IT'S MONDAY AFTERNOON in the media centre at Royal Portrush, and for once the question to Rory McIlroy is a little more interesting than the answer. Q: Rory, in 2006 at the Dubai Desert Classic you were a 16-year-old amateur playing with Peter O'Malley and Robert Coles. I was also a 16 year old, and I was also your scorer that day. A: No way! Q: You told me that day that your two goals were to be the World No. 1 golfer and to complete the Grand Slam. When you're an elite golfer as you are, one of the best of the generation and achieve your lifelong dream like that, what is the process of resetting your goals look like? The man asking that question was David Bieleski. He was at the Open for the week as an accredited member of the media, working for the New Zealand-based radio station, Sport Nation. David was born in New Zealand but went to school in Dubai, and it was from this school that volunteers were drawn for the annual Dubai Desert Classic event on the European Tour. As one of the few in his school who actually played golf, the tournament's head scorer usually rewarded him with the marquee group of the event. Rory McIlroy, pictured in 2006. Morgan Treacy / INPHO Morgan Treacy / INPHO / INPHO When he was handed his group in 2006, however, David recognised only two of the three listed names. While he knew tour regulars O'Malley and Coles, he knew nothing of the young amateur. He sought out the head scorer and asked him what was the deal, and was told that he was given the best group on the course, because that young amateur would be the best player in the world some day. As idle conversation unspooled with the round, David asked the young amateur for his ambitions in golf, to which the young amateur replied, slightly abashed, that he wanted to win all four major championships and become world number one. After he completed his round, the young amateur signed his golf ball and handed it to his scorer, a custom he maintains to this day. David pocketed the ball with the sense that this was one worth keeping, and so he and Rory McIlroy went their separate ways. Eight years later, Rory McIlroy was 24 and halfway to fulfilling the ambitions he confessed to his scorer at the Dubai Desert Classic. He had been world number one and had won two major titles, and he'd add another two – one of them a Claret Jug – before that year was out. School days: David Bielski with Lee Westwood during his time as a volunteer at the Dubai Desert Classic. David Bielski David Bielski David Bieleski was 24 too, but dealing with a much nastier lie. He was an alcoholic, and he was homeless too. He returned to Auckland after school, where he lapsed gradually, and then suddenly, into drinking. His alcoholism, he says, did not fit the wrongheaded cliché of a man in a trench coat drinking on a park bench from a paper bag: his was hiding insidiously in plain sight. He didn't drink in the mornings and he didn't drink in public parks. He drank socially, but when he drank, he did so to get drunk. It ticked upwards: he went out three, then four, then five nights a week, tactically going out with different friends or groups of people who would not so easily spot the frequency. He shunned the problems this all threw up, simply drinking more to escape and numb the feeling. The nights of excess gave way to mornings of shame, from which the only escape route was another night of excess. David would wake up, vomit over the toilet, potentially vomit again in the shower, and then muddle through the day before going out again that night to start the cycle all over again. 'It was a constant battle of chasing the feeling and ideal state of being through the use of alcohol,' he says, 'and then being wracked with guilt and shame for having let people down, and then doing it all again as a result.' He struggled to hold down a job, constantly ran short of money, and saw friendships and relationships fray at their seams. Then, in 2014, another night's drinking ended up with David getting into a fight, causing damage to property, and being sent to hospital and a jail cell. This was not the first time his night ended this way, but for the first time, he broke the cycle in the morning. After he was released, David stood in front of the bathroom mirror to wash his face and, for the very first time, he could not look himself in the eye. 'It was a rare moment of clarity,' he says, 'where I realised that I could either keep what I was doing and experiencing similar results, or I could be brave and try something different.' This was one week before the birth of his daughter, and so he resolved that she would never see her father drunk. David went to rehab but ran out of money, and so spent eight months living in a homeless shelter as he bid to get sober. And he did it. Within nine months he got a job as a travel agent, and was soon on a flight from New Zealand to Las Vegas for an awards ceremony as one of the company's top performers. He met a girl, Sophie, and they stayed together when she was posted from Wellington to Christchurch for work. With the added free time, David indulged his old passion for golf. He started blogging, his first post being a 2,000-word preview of, you guessed it, the Dubai Desert Classic. It gained traction, and he continued to blog until he was paid to write about golf, from where he moved into broadcasting with Sport Nation. And so David Bieleski has been sober for more than 11 years. 'The peculiarity with alcoholism is that many people can handle alcohol perfectly well and have the ability to say no or they've had enough,' he says. 'You'd never turn around to a diabetic and wonder if they can have a little bit more sugar. Society struggles to understand that we can't approach alcohol the same way. Advertisement 'If I'm drinking, I'm drinking for the effect and to get drunk. Otherwise, what else is the point? If one drink is good, then six, eight, 12 will be even better. It is a disease, and research estimates around 10% of the population have the genetic predisposition towards alcoholic drinking. I personally believe I always had a predisposition for addiction.' Which brings us to Royal Portrush. At one point along his hard road, David lost the golf ball gifted to him by Rory McIlroy, and once he got sober, his mind became fixated on where it had got to. 'It's something I thought about an unreasonable amount,' he says, 'What has happened to this golf ball? 'That memento reminded me of the happiest times of my life: my childhood.' The lost ball was an emblem of all that which David squandered in his drinking days, and so recovering it might provide a measure of apology to his younger self, and of redemption for the life he hadn't led. He scoured his history to find it. He went back to the places he had lived and stayed during his drinking days, pleading with whomever he found to look for the ball. He returned to the house in which he most suspected he had last seen it, and found his former housemate had died. He was an alcoholic too. It was all to no avail. Nobody knew where it was, and nobody could find it. The ball was lost and that fact seemed to prove that while we can all move on, we cannot always make amends. Earlier this year, Rory McIlroy fulfilled the last promise he made to David Bieleski by winning the final major tournament missing from his collection. McIlroy completed his journey's arc so David figured he might too. He flew to Cornwall, where he proposed to Sophie. Meanwhile, he asked two of his golfing school friends from the Dubai days to travel to Portrush: he told them he was proposing to Sophie beforehand, and he wanted a stag party. And, hey, some live golf is as good an idea as any other for an alcoholic's stag. But while his friends were among the galleries, David had access to the media centre, where his path finally again intertwined with Rory McIlroy. On Sunday evening, McIlroy gave the raucous crowds wreathing the 18th green one final wave and disappeared beneath the grandstands, on his way to the scoring tent and then an interview room with journalists. As McIlroy spoke with us, David peeled away from the pack and spotted Rory's caddie, Harry Diamond, standing outside. He sidled over and plucked up the courage to tell him his story. When McIlroy finished up his media duties, he bounced down the four steps leading to the elevated interview platform and swung right to rejoin Harry and walk back to the clubhouse on their way out of Portrush. As he did so, the PA address system heralding Scottie Scheffler's victory drifted overhead. Harry stood with David and introduced him to Rory. David explained his journey, telling Rory of how he had inspired him to complete his own journey. Harry produced a golf ball and sharpie, and handed both to Rory. Rory signed the golf ball, squeezed David's arm, and then handed it over saying, 'Well then, this one is even better.' David walked away, his knuckles clutched so tight they were as white as the golf ball within them, all the while failing to fight back great, heaving tears. He found a quiet spot and slipped the ball into a Titleist box, to officially begin its transit back to New Zealand, where it will take up residence in his home with Sophie, his daughter and his two cats, whose names are Gary and, of course, Rory. The ball will be set upon a tee, framed and put upon his mantlepiece, where it will stand alongside a picture of McIlroy on his knees on the 18th green at Augusta National that bears the man's own message. Never give up on your dreams. David Bieleski completes his journey with a signed ball from Rory McIlroy. David stayed to listen to Scottie Scheffler's press conference, and quietly agreed with Scheffler's outlook that life is ultimately about identifying the truly important things. I went to listen to Scheffler too, and met David as we were filing our way out of the room. I had seen his interaction with McIlroy and my curiosity had gotten the better of me, and so we sat down to talk. About an hour later, I packed up my bags and as I climbed the hill that led down from the media centre to the back of the 18th green, beneath the honeyed sunset in front of me I saw David Bieleski, arm-in-arm with his two friends, telling them he had a golf ball signed by Rory McIlroy and that, today, he had righted a wrong. You can follow David's work at DeepDiveGolf If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this piece, you can visit Written by Gavin Cooney and originally published on The 42 whose award-winning team produces original content that you won't find anywhere else: on GAA, League of Ireland, women's sport and boxing, as well as our game-changing rugby coverage, all with an Irish eye. Subscribe here .
The 42
a day ago
- Sport
- The 42
Rory McIlroy's Portrush gesture completes one man's 19-year journey to replace what was lost
IT'S MONDAY AFTERNOON in the media centre at Royal Portrush, and for once the question to Rory McIlroy is a little more interesting than the answer. Q: Rory, in 2006 at the Dubai Desert Classic you were a 16-year-old amateur playing with Peter O'Malley and Robert Coles. I was also a 16 year old, and I was also your scorer that day. A: No way! Q: You told me that day that your two goals were to be the World No. 1 golfer and to complete the Grand Slam. When you're an elite golfer as you are, one of the best of the generation and achieve your lifelong dream like that, what is the process of resetting your goals look like? The man asking that question was David Bieleski. He was at the Open for the week as an accredited member of the media, working for the New Zealand-based radio station, Sport Nation. David was born in New Zealand but went to school in Dubai, and it was from this school that volunteers were drawn for the annual Dubai Desert Classic event on the European Tour. As one of the few in his school who actually played golf, the tournament's head scorer usually rewarded him with the marquee group of the event. Rory McIlroy, pictured in 2006. Morgan Treacy / INPHO Morgan Treacy / INPHO / INPHO When he was handed his group in 2006, however, David recognised only two of the three listed names. While he knew tour regulars O'Malley and Coles, he knew nothing of the young amateur. He sought out the head scorer and asked him what was the deal, and was told that he was given the best group on the course, because that young amateur would be the best player in the world some day. As idle conversation unspooled with the round, David asked the young amateur for his ambitions in golf, to which the young amateur replied, slightly abashed, that he wanted to win all four major championships and become world number one. After he completed his round, the young amateur signed his golf ball and handed it to his scorer, a custom he maintains to this day. David pocketed the ball with the sense that this was one worth keeping, and so he and Rory McIlroy went their separate ways. Eight years later, Rory McIlroy was 24 and halfway to fulfilling the ambitions he confessed to his scorer at the Dubai Desert Classic. He had been world number one and had won two major titles, and he'd add another two – one of them a Claret Jug – before that year was out. School days: David Bielski with Lee Westwood during his time as a volunteer at the Dubai Desert Classic. David Bielski David Bielski David Bieleski was 24 too, but dealing with a much nastier lie. He was an alcoholic, and he was homeless too. He returned to Auckland after school, where he lapsed gradually, and then suddenly, into drinking. His alcoholism, he says, did not fit the wrongheaded cliché of a man in a trench coat drinking on a park bench from a paper bag: his was hiding insidiously in plain sight. He didn't drink in the mornings and he didn't drink in public parks. He drank socially, but when he drank, he did so to get drunk. It ticked upwards: he went out three, then four, then five nights a week, tactically going out with different friends or groups of people who would not so easily spot the frequency. He shunned the problems this all threw up, simply drinking more to escape and numb the feeling. The nights of excess gave way to mornings of shame, from which the only escape route was another night of excess. David would wake up, vomit over the toilet, potentially vomit again in the shower, and then muddle through the day before going out again that night to start the cycle all over again. 'It was a constant battle of chasing the feeling and ideal state of being through the use of alcohol,' he says, 'and then being wracked with guilt and shame for having let people down, and then doing it all again as a result.' He struggled to hold down a job, constantly ran short of money, and saw friendships and relationships fray at their seams. Then, in 2014, another night's drinking ended up with David getting into a fight, causing damage to property, and being sent to hospital and a jail cell. This was not the first time his night ended this way, but for the first time, he broke the cycle in the morning. After he was released, David stood in front of the bathroom mirror to wash his face and, for the very first time, he could not look himself in the eye. 'It was a rare moment of clarity,' he says, 'where I realised that I could either keep what I was doing and experiencing similar results, or I could be brave and try something different.' This was one week before the birth of his daughter, and so he resolved that she would never see her father drunk. David went to rehab but ran out of money, and so spent eight months living in a homeless shelter as he bid to get sober. And he did it. Within nine months he got a job as a travel agent, and was soon on a flight from New Zealand to Las Vegas for an awards ceremony as one of the company's top performers. He met a girl, Sophie, and they stayed together when she was posted from Wellington to Christchurch for work. With the added free time, David indulged his old passion for golf. He started blogging, his first post being a 2,000-word preview of, you guessed it, the Dubai Desert Classic. It gained traction, and he continued to blog until he was paid to write about golf, from where he moved into broadcasting with Sport Nation. And so David Bieleski has been sober for more than 11 years. 'The peculiarity with alcoholism is that many people can handle alcohol perfectly well and have the ability to say no or they've had enough,' he says. 'You'd never turn around to a diabetic and wonder if they can have a little bit more sugar. Society struggles to understand that we can't approach alcohol the same way. Advertisement 'If I'm drinking, I'm drinking for the effect and to get drunk. Otherwise, what else is the point? If one drink is good, then six, eight, 12 will be even better. It is a disease, and research estimates around 10% of the population have the genetic predisposition towards alcoholic drinking. I personally believe I always had a predisposition for addiction.' Which brings us to Royal Portrush. At one point along his hard road, David lost the golf ball gifted to him by Rory McIlroy, and once he got sober, his mind became fixated on where it had got to. 'It's something I thought about an unreasonable amount,' he says, 'What has happened to this golf ball? 'That memento reminded me of the happiest times of my life: my childhood.' The lost ball was an emblem of all that which David squandered in his drinking days, and so recovering it might provide a measure of apology to his younger self, and of redemption for the life he hadn't led. He scoured his history to find it. He went back to the places he had lived and stayed during his drinking days, pleading with whomever he found to look for the ball. He returned to the house in which he most suspected he had last seen it, and found his former housemate had died. He was an alcoholic too. It was all to no avail. Nobody knew where it was, and nobody could find it. The ball was lost and that fact seemed to prove that while we can all move on, we cannot always make amends. Earlier this year, Rory McIlroy fulfilled the last promise he made to David Bieleski by winning the final major tournament missing from his collection. McIlroy completed his journey's arc so David figured he might too. He flew to Cornwall, where he proposed to Sophie. Meanwhile, he asked two of his golfing school friends from the Dubai days to travel to Portrush: he told them he was proposing to Sophie beforehand, and he wanted a stag party. And, hey, some live golf is as good an idea as any other for an alcoholic's stag. But while his friends were among the galleries, David had access to the media centre, where his path finally again intertwined with Rory McIlroy. On Sunday evening, McIlroy gave the raucous crowds wreathing the 18th green one final wave and disappeared beneath the grandstands, on his way to the scoring tent and then an interview room with journalists. As McIlroy spoke with us, David peeled away from the pack and spotted Rory's caddie, Harry Diamond, standing outside. He sidled over and plucked up the courage to tell him his story. When McIlroy finished up his media duties, he bounced down the four steps leading to the elevated interview platform and swung right to rejoin Harry and walk back to the clubhouse on their way out of Portrush. As he did so, the PA address system heralding Scottie Scheffler's victory drifted overhead. Harry stood with David and introduced him to Rory. David explained his journey, telling Rory of how he had inspired him to complete his own journey. Harry produced a golf ball and sharpie, and handed both to Rory. Rory signed the golf ball, squeezed David's arm, and then handed it over saying, 'Well then, this one is even better.' David walked away, his knuckles clutched so tight they were as white as the golf ball within them, all the while failing to fight back great, heaving tears. He found a quiet spot and slipped the ball into a Titleist box, to officially begin its transit back to New Zealand, where it will take up residence in his home with Sophie, his daughter and his two cats, whose names are Gary and, of course, Rory. The ball will be set upon a tee, framed and put upon his mantlepiece, where it will stand alongside a picture of McIlroy on his knees on the 18th green at Augusta National that bears the man's own message. Never give up on your dreams. David Bieleski completes his journey with a signed ball from Rory McIlroy. David stayed to listen to Scottie Scheffler's press conference, and quietly agreed with Scheffler's outlook that life is ultimately about identifying the truly important things. I went to listen to Scheffler too, and met David as we were filing our way out of the room. I had seen his interaction with McIlroy and my curiosity had gotten the better of me, and so we sat down to talk. About an hour later, I packed up my bags and as I climbed the hill that led down from the media centre to the back of the 18th green, beneath the honeyed sunset in front of me I saw David Bieleski, arm-in-arm with his two friends, telling them he had a golf ball signed by Rory McIlroy and that, today, he had righted a wrong. You can follow David's work at DeepDiveGolf If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this piece, you can visit
The 42
3 days ago
- Sport
- The 42
Hell's Kitchen is back for the digital age as Tipp produce Guerilla warfare
YOU START WITH THE most important part of it all. When Ronan Maher, captain of the Tipperary team stood on the steps of the Michael Hogan Stand, 100 years after it was named after the man who died during the violence and carnage of Bloody Sunday, he recalled another fallen Tipperary man. In another, fairer dimension, the red helmet of Dillon Quirke would have been on the pitch here, rather than gone after he collapsed and died in a club championship match in August 2022. Captured forever as a 24-year-old Tipperary hurler. 'You weren't just with us in your spirit today,' said Maher. 'You were with us in the dressing room. You were on the field of play. You were in our hearts. We hope we did you and your family proud today.' If the defining quality of Quirke was bravery, then that's what Tipperary were here. It couldn't be just all blood and snotters. They needed more and so their strategy set up bravery. The extra man at the back hardly came as a surprise. At times it was Craig Morgan but as soon as Shane Barrett picked off two early points it was left to Bryan O'Mara. Doing that, concedes the puckout. But then you can put pressure on the second ball. They were willing to do that because they trusted their half-back line to play out in front, with a safety net of a sweeper. They could also gum up the works when Cork attempted to run the ball with overlapping runs. The Tipperary backs ate Cork whole. As a unit, this is the Hell's Kitchen of the John Doyle – Michael Maher – Kieran Carey, reimagined for the digital age. 'We just attacked everything… We just let it flow…' said Michael Breen afterwards. Michael Breen afterwards with girlfriend, Sharlene Mawdsley. Morgan Treacy / INPHO Morgan Treacy / INPHO / INPHO What's the opposite of flow? That's Cork. As soon as momentum started to shift, the ground beneath their feet went. The choice was there for them when Eoin Downey was booked on 32 minutes. Their gamble backfired with a second yellow and red. But even before that, they were baling water and holed beneath the waterline. Pat Ryan has been around the block and has a shrewd hurling brain. But you sense that although they could have predicted Tipperary would employ a sweeper, they appeared to give it as little thought as, oooohhhh, Neil Young gave to his outfit on stage at Glastonbury. Advertisement The Cork performance has already got the MemeLords busy. Welcome to Cork, twinned with Mayo. All the high brow stuff. But in terms of the embarrassment stakes, it was hard to see at the start of the week who could top the Coldplay Jumbotron extra-curricular couple. We aren't wondering now. Let's not let this moment pass without acknowledging that nobody was shouting this prediction. Even as we walked to the stadium and happened upon a father-son duo from Roscrea who eventually pumped me for my prediction, I felt miserable as I opted for Cork. 'But if we're in it with fifteen minutes to go…' they reasoned. And I let them have that crumb of comfort. It made me feel happy. For a while. You can parse and analyse all you want. Go intellectual and converse on strategies and approaches. Do what you want, but these games are decided by young divils such as Darragh McCarthy scoring 1-13 in an All-Ireland final as a teenager, hours after he put in a few hours playing video games on his phone, as revealed by Michael Breen. Time enough for checking up on children with temperatures, we suspect. There was a flavour of Tipp-ness from early on in the day. A tradition on All-Ireland final day has grown among their people whereby they meet at Talbot Street at noon, to honour the memory of Seán Treacy, a key figure in the War of Independence who died in a shoot-out at that very spot in October 1920. It used to be confined to west Tipperary people and Dublin folk of Tipperary extraction that attended. On Sunday there was a gathering of several hundred people. The difference this time was that the GAA President Jarlath Burns delivered an oration. Despite the scratchy amplification, the event was moving and profound. The hurling game to follow was guerilla warfare. An interesting diversion for the next few days around Thurles, Cashel and Tipperary and into the surrounding parishes will be a parlour game of your particular favourite ending to the game. Was it Liam Cahill, calm and measured all season finally exploding in emotion by chewing the linesman over a questionable line ball in the closing moments with the game long settled? Perhaps the twinkle in Liam Sheedy's eye as he made his way down the sideline, togged out in punditry gear and heading for a most enjoyable debriefing, being cheered by the Tipperary supporters. Liam Cahill meets Liam Sheedy with a third Liam. Morgan Treacy / INPHO Morgan Treacy / INPHO / INPHO Eoghan Connolly's 'f*** it' clearance actually being met with the most delicate of touches by John McGrath and steered to the net on the hour? 'John McGrath won the county final, so hopefully John McGrath will win the All-Ireland for Tipperary next Sunday aswell' - Frankie McGrath — The GAA (@officialgaa) July 20, 2025 Related Reads Stunning Tipperary surge sees them take down Cork and claim All-Ireland hurling glory 'I'm very content as a supporter, enjoying the new players coming on' 28 years after the Cork and Tipperary managers faced off in dramatic Munster final How about Rhys Shelly and his primal scream of delight when he saved Conor Lehane's penalty in injury time. How about Rhys Shelly again, this time with a point from play? Perhaps it was Tipperary's defence going all free-form jazz experimentation with overhead flicks with the space to indulge themselves. Or Noel McGrath scoring the final point of the day? As Michael Breen said afterwards, 'It was a fun second half to play in.' That will hurt. But look at them on top now. Galtee mountain boys. Look at the view below. Two moments from last year jump out for us, seeing as we were there in the flesh; the league semi final against Clare in Portlaoise when Tipp burned through – I think – four different freetakers. And then the Gaelic Grounds in the Munster championship when Bonner Maher bowed out in front of a Tipp crowd that felt invisible. As Jake Morris said afterwards, 'We all live close to the big towns and that's where you would be meeting people. You'd have been ashamed to show your face in public.' Not your problem now, Jake.
Irish Examiner
3 days ago
- Sport
- Irish Examiner
In Pictures: Tipperary celebrate remarkable hurling final victory
Tipperary's Ronan Maher celebrates at the final whistle of the All-Ireland SHC final against Cork. Pic: ©INPHO/Morgan Treacy Ronan Maher Tipperary kisses the Liam MacCarthy Cup alongside Uachtarán Chumann Lúthchleas Gael Jarlath Burns. Pic: Stephen McCarthy/Sportsfile Ronan Maher lifts the Liam MacCarthy Cup. Pic: ©INPHO/Morgan Treacy Ronan Maher celebrates with his brother Pádraic, right, and Paddy McCormack. Photo by Seb Daly/Sportsfile Tipperary manager Liam Cahill celebrates with his wife Eimear and daughters Emily and Roisin. Photo by Seb Daly/Sportsfile Tipperary players and brothers, from left, Brian McGrath, Noel McGrath and John McGrath celebrate with family and the Liam MacCarthy Cup. Photo by Stephen McCarthy/Sportsfile Tipperary goalkeeper Rhys Shelly celebrates with his family. Photo by Stephen McCarthy/Sportsfile Craig Morgan of Tipperary celebrates with his mother Bríd. Photo by Stephen McCarthy/Sportsfile Tipperary player Michael Breen celebrates with his girlfriend, Olympic athlete Sharlene Mawdsley after the All-Ireland hurling final. Pic: ©INPHO/Morgan Treacy Tipperary manager Liam Cahill with Jake Morris and Eoghan Connolly after the game. Pic: ©INPHO/Bryan Keane Tipperary's Ronan Maher celebrates with his mother Helen Maher. Pic: ©INPHO/Morgan Treacy Tipperary goalkeeper Rhys Shelly after the final whistle. Photo by Stephen McCarthy/Sportsfile Tipperary's Noel McGrath celebrates with his son Sam. Pic: ©INPHO/Ryan Byrne Tipperary players Craig Morgan, Jake Morris and Darragh McCarthy celebrate with sport psychologist Cathal Sheridan. Photo by Seb Daly/Sportsfile Tipperary players, from left, Joe Caesar, Ray McCormack and Craig Morgan celebrates after the game. Photo by Stephen McCarthy/Sportsfile
The 42
3 days ago
- Sport
- The 42
One of Ireland's great athletes on a career that almost didn't happen
IT WOULD BE no exaggeration to describe Thomas Barr as a trailblazer. The list of Irish athletes who have reached an Olympic final, let alone finished fourth in one, is not long. To this day, Barr remains the only Irishman to run a sub-49-second 400m hurdles, though he namechecks promising Donegal youngsters Fintan and Ethan Dewhirst as potential heirs to his throne. The time of 47.97, which he set at the 2016 Olympics in Rio, is an Irish record unlikely to be broken soon. And towards the latter half of his career, Barr was an important member of the winning European Championship mixed 4x400m relay team. 'It's funny,' he says. 'Even when I look back on my career, I think, Jesus: 'Did I really do that?'' What stands out about Barr's success is how unlikely it was. He was not a prodigy like the Irish sprint sensation of the moment, Rhasidat Adeleke. Instead, he was a late bloomer who nearly quit the sport as he entered college at the University of Limerick. Roughly six months since announcing his retirement, Barr sat down with The42 near his home in Limerick to reflect on what might have been had he not taken his parents' advice to stick at athletics for another year. Barr enjoys telling the story during his frequent visits to schools on behalf of the experiential learning programme Develop Me, about how, for years, he had poured himself into sport without achieving the results he desired. He was ready to walk away, as he wanted to try new things. 'I wanted to experience the sort of college lifestyle,' he says. 'I wanted to join all the new clubs and societies, and [undertake] extreme sports and stuff. 'But it was my parents who had said: Look, why don't you give it one more year under [my coaches] Hayley and Drew [Harrison]. 'It was my dad, he saw a talent in me in particular that no one else saw. '[They suggested] after that, if you're still not happy with the decision, or you're not getting where you want to end, at least you tried it, and you can move on.' That year, 2011, Barr qualified for the European Junior Championships and seldom looked back. 'Even at that point, I still didn't think it was a career. But I thought: 'Okay, I'm improving, so let's see where we can take it.' It was sort of like a marker or an appetiser, really, for what I could achieve if I gave it a go. 'It didn't change my mindset, but it just made the decision that I should keep going.' His parents weren't the only important family members in this regard. Jessie Barr was a significant influence on her younger brother Thomas. Morgan Treacy / INPHO Morgan Treacy / INPHO / INPHO Barr's sister Jessie, three years his senior, was a considerable inspiration. Her many achievements included competing at the 2012 Olympics. It is only now that Barr appreciates the profound influence she had. 'She was so close to me, and she made it very accessible. I saw the work she was doing. I saw what it took to become an Olympian. I saw what it took to become a world-challenging athlete, a world-class talent. 'And so I thought, well, if Jessie can do it, why can't I? But it was never a conscious decision that I said: 'Oh, Jessie's doing it, why can't I?' She paved the way for me without me even knowing, because, even since I've retired, I've gotten some lovely messages from younger athletes even across Europe, saying when they saw me compete in an Olympic final and finished fourth, they thought that was just a fella from Waterford, a young lad, very unassuming, and it genuinely inspired them to become an athlete and to chase a dream, to try and get to that level.' He continues: 'And for me, that person was Jessie, who made it accessible, because those athletes that I know would have would have known who I was, would have seen me working and training in the background, and then they say: 'Well, that's what he did to get to get to there, and that's exactly what Jessie did.' 'She also taught me a lot about how to act as an athlete, and the sort of respect that you show for your competitors and all of that kind of stuff. So she was a huge influence on my career, and I followed in her footsteps. I just copied what events she did.' Advertisement Jessie's post-athletics career has been similarly impressive. Repeated injury woes prompted her retirement in 2019, but she was well prepared for this fate, having spent years working towards obtaining a master's and PhD in sports psychology. These days, Jessie is a performance psychologist at the Sport Ireland Institute, and her brother says he may have at least subconsciously leaned on some of this expertise. 'We never had a formal sit-down or a chat, or I never really pulled on her for psychological support, per se. 'But she could well have been unknown to me, filtering that information through in conversations and stuff, but I was working with with one of her colleagues in Sport Ireland, Kate Kirby, in the last two years for psychology support, because it was just too much of a conflict of interest for me to be working with Jessie. 'If she was chatting to me and telling me this, that and the other. [I'd be inclined to say] 'Ah, go away Jess, will ya?'' Not that Barr has not had his major psychological hurdles to navigate. The year leading up to the 2016 Olympics is a prime example. Ireland's Thomas Barr after finishing fourth at the Rio Olympics. Morgan Treacy / INPHO Morgan Treacy / INPHO / INPHO The build-up had been ravaged by injury to the extent that little was expected of the Irish star in Rio. He now appreciates that all these woes turned out to be a blessing in disguise. 'People often ask: 'Are you disappointed with fourth? No, considering the context of that year, it was definitely my best year. 'I think that was one of the big bonuses of it — I went in with no target on my back. No one knew what I was at — including myself — so I just went on a wing and a prayer and ran free, almost. 'And so that helped from a psychological perspective, I went in with no burden. But even going forward, it helped me. 'I grew that year as an athlete, physically in one way, but psychologically and mentally, I grew a huge amount, and it matured me as an athlete to go through that. 'We always learn more from our failures or adversity than we do from when it all goes well. 'And there were times as well when I was injured in subsequent years, and it was never really as bad as Rio. So I thought: 'Oh, well, if I got through that, I can get through this.'' Dealing with injuries is far from the only challenge in getting to the level Barr ultimately reached. Financially, too, unless you are a Usain Bolt-esque phenomenon, sacrifices are paramount. Barr also enjoyed success as part of the Irish mixed relay team. Warren Grant / INPHO Warren Grant / INPHO / INPHO Had Barr instead pursued his degree in mechanical engineering, he would likely be in a much healthier financial position now. 'I'm not going to name this particular athlete, but last year, they were basically on the cusp of walking away from the sport, and saying: 'I can't keep doing this on the breadline.' And they were like: 'Right, this is my last one, last shot.' They managed to secure a sponsor, and since then, they have become a regular on the continental tour and the Diamond League this year. It flipped around that easily. 'But we have lost so many athletes through the cracks because of a lack of support, funding, sponsorship, and money. There's no two ways about it — it's difficult enough for somebody who's working at the moment full time, making money to afford rent, to afford living expenses, a car, etc. You put all of that into one box, and then you add on training camps, recovery, physio, everything else for an athlete just outside the system of getting support — it's where we start to lose athletes, even if they're living at home. It still is very, very difficult. 'I was lucky. My parents, when I was younger, were supportive, and they would have helped me out financially as well. I would have supplemented [athletics] with working part-time, weekends and summers as best I could, until I managed to make it to a position where I was starting to make money. 'But even in the latter years of my career, I started to come off of that sort of honey pot of money, and I was starting to scrimp again, and [was okay] only for the fact I put away a bit of money. I had to be frugal again, counting the pennies. [Otherwise] I wouldn't have survived through the end of my career as a full-time athlete; I would have had to work full time. A lot of our best athletes are on the breadline or working full-time unless they make it to that top 10 in the world, which is a big gap to try and bridge. 'So I think that's where what we see on Instagram and Twitter and everything is [deceptive]. And there are people under this false impression that all of our best athletes are full-time. They're making loads of money and are well looked after, but because of what we see on Instagram, it's all glamour or whatever. But when you look behind it, sometimes that's not the case. 'And I'm not saying that Athletics Ireland, Sport Ireland, etc, aren't doing what they can to help athletes. They're doing what they can with the budget they have, but it would be great if we could see that budget a little bit higher to spread that little bit farther down the chain for a couple of our younger athletes.' Barr's girlfriend Kelly McGrory is also a talented athlete. Morgan Treacy / INPHO Morgan Treacy / INPHO / INPHO Barr's latest challenge is dealing with life after athletics. At 32, he has to start all over again. Those aforementioned financial realities mean the Waterford native doesn't have the luxury of relaxing as an ex-Premier League footballer might. 'I'm doing a lot of school visits with Develop Me. They've all been paused for the summer, and I'm doing a bit of work with Timmy Crowe in Sports Equipment Ireland. 'And then my girlfriend Kelly [McGrory], her dad has an installation company up in Donegal, looking to set up down this neck of the woods. I'm trying to get the ball rolling on that as well. 'So there are a good few plates spinning. I'm handy with DIY and stuff, so helping friends out where I can with different projects.' McGrory herself is an accomplished athlete, a multiple-time Irish national champion in the 400-metre hurdles, who has represented the country at the 2023 World Athletics Championships and the 2024 Olympic Games in the women's 4×400 metres relay. In Paris, she ran the heats in the 4×400m relay before Adeleke replaced her in the final for the team that finished fourth. So, although Barr is no longer completely immersed in the sport as he once was, it is difficult to remove himself from it entirely for this reason. But, while his dinners are still 'healthy' on account of McGrory, there are other post-retirement treats Barr can avail of. 'Three friends and I went off snowboarding for a week in France, which I couldn't do when I was training. And I was on RTÉ with Joe Canning and Ray Goggins, on [the TV show] Uncharted, we went off to the Colombian rainforest, which is another opportunity that I would have had to say no to, but was right up my alley with all the extreme sports [I love]. And then only last weekend, I went with a few mates to a track in Kerry, drifting. 'There's a lot of that kind of stuff going on, keeping me going. And being able to tip away working in the garage on cars is my sort of thing. Now, it can be a huge form of stress if it doesn't go well, but it is sort of my distraction, my meditation.' Barr pictured competing at the National Senior Track and Field Championship last year. Bryan Keane / INPHO Bryan Keane / INPHO / INPHO Barr says a mentoring rather than coaching role with Athletics Ireland or Sport Ireland would be of interest down the line as he seeks to 'use the profile and the experience that I have to try and better the sport going forward'. At present, though, he is comfortable being 'Thomas Barr, the retired athlete'. The fact that he has several interests outside of sport means his adaptation has been smoother than is typically the case. 'Even when I had four weeks off in the summer [as an athlete], I was itching to get going and take all of those other interests off pause. 'So I couldn't wait, in a lot of ways, to retire, to be able to get stuck back into those. I remember at the start of my career, I had all of these interests going on. And I remember being told: 'You need to give up all of those. You need to put all your time and energy into your sport.' 'And I was nearly sneaking around: 'I'll go jet skiing today, or I'll go out for a swim, or I'll go and do this, jumping off a cliff or whatever. 'Or not even that, but just going through college and stuff, and I did mechanical engineering, so it was very labour-intensive. 'A lot of people were trying to convince me I should be putting all my eggs into training. I was like: 'Well, I enjoy my course, and I want to study. That's what I came to Limerick to do.'' Barr says the mentality has now shifted to the point where pursuing outside interests is encouraged more so than was previously the case. And in general, this greater sense of freedom is palpable. 'Even just a simple thing of if you're up from Limerick and my mates are like: 'Oh, we're going to go for a pint. You want to go for a pint?' I'm like: 'Yeah, perfect.' 'If I'm in the pub, I do get recognised relatively regularly, but I don't mind. There are times, of course, when my social battery might be drained and I'm not up for it, but I know it's not going to last forever. 'And also, Ireland is so small as well, that if you're going to the same places all the time, people see you once or twice, and then it's like: 'Oh, yeah. That's just the runner fellow.' They become sick of you. 'And for all of my career, I thrived off other people getting enjoyment out of what I was doing, and now I'm meeting people who supported me. 'So it's nice to be able to give back as best I can if someone does want the photo, or if someone wants to shake my hand and say: 'Well done.' 'If I can reiterate and say thanks for the support, then I'm happy to do that.'
