Martin Kennedy loved his family and community

Where does one start on a man like Martin Kennedy? It is impossible to do him justice in a short time frame. A man who gave so much of his time to his community, whether it was GAA, Church, Kill Summer Festivals, fundraising, Community Centre, Kill Shows, Shop and Co-op.

I suppose we will start with his biggest love, apart from his family, and that was the GAA. It is well documented about Martin's playing days from school to adult level and winning four senior titles with Kill, culminating in him winning Senior Footballer of the Year in 1967. He immersed himself in the administration side of things as well, taking over as club secretary from his great friend Liam Whelan in the mid-1960s, a position he held until the late 1970s. He was instrumental in founding St. Mary's Juvenile Club in 1980 and became their first secretary, a position he held for 10 years.

Martin ventured into coaching when his son Joe came onto the juvenile scene and, for a man who never played hurling, Martin certainly knew his stuff. He was ahead of his time in that regard. For the next 25 years or so, Martin was involved in teams, whether it was St. Mary's or Kill. To be in a dressing room with Martin was special. He was a great motivator, a psychologist, and his spiels were legendary. On occasion, if the stakes were high, there would be froth running from his mouth and you didn't know whether to laugh or cry with emotion.

No one was spared when it came to the dressing room, as poor Fr. Tom Burke can verify from one day down in Portlaw when his performance was not up to scratch. When the glasses came off in the dressing room and were placed on the table, you knew his wrath was coming. How the glasses survived, I'll never know, as he wore a hurley off the table. However, he got the most out of us and that's the great trait of a coach.

He had numerous catchphrases; some I can repeat and others I can't. These included: "Are ye up for it lads?"; "I'll get nothing out of him tonight"; "Bend the back, man"; "It's the little things that matter" and "attention to detail". Meticulous in preparation. He loved nothing more than a team meeting before a big match. Ger Guiry or Ger Mooney would have their say and then Martin would be asked to say a few words, which inevitably brought about him saying, "I didn't know you were going to ask me to say anything, and I've nothing prepared." Half an hour later, he would still be talking to us about an opposition "speed merchant". Then the post-mortem would come, not about the match, but about the speech. "Was I too hard on him?" and "Maybe I went on too much" or "Was I too long-winded?"

These characteristics and professionalism were brought into other aspects of Martin's life. He was central in many a fundraiser in Kill. Whether it was with the Kill Shows in the early 1970s, the Charity BBQs in Gardenmorris in the 2000s, card drives, mini concerts, sales of work, Tops of the Parish, McGrath Cup Senior Football tournaments, Martin's handprints were all over them.

The Kill Summer Festivals of the 1980s were another venture he was heavily involved in, central to booking bands and organising the music, which was his other great passion. He liked nothing more than a bit of brass, with Paddy Cole of The Capitol Showband one of his huge favourites. Mick Del, The Royal Showband, Donal Ring Céilí Band, Glenn Miller, Al Jolson and Dean Martin were among the performers he greatly admired.

He was an entertainer himself. Whether it was a comedy sketch with his brother-in-law Tom Kirwan, with Martin playing "The Toff" and Tom playing "The Tramp", singing "Jug of Punch" or "Ol' Man River" on a club outing or after-match celebration, he was always front and centre. He was like the conductor of an orchestra, while we were merely pawns on a chessboard moving to his orders.

This culminated when Kill entered a team in Scór in 1981 in the Novelty Act section. "Dr. Kill or Cure" was the sketch, and this silent mime act won county honours, then Munster honours and ultimately an All-Ireland title in the National Stadium in Dublin, with Martin as the director.

As previously stated, Martin was heavily involved in the Charity BBQs in Gardenmorris. 2003 was the first such venture and over the next 10 years they raised a staggering €300,000, with the Brendan Bowyer gig in 2006 the highlight.

In later years, upon retirement from the Co-op/Glanbia in Kilmeaden, he threw his lot in with the choir in Dunhill Church. His infectious enthusiasm for song encouraged more people to participate, as you can hear today.

As I finish up, I could go on telling story after story, many of which will have been recalled over the last few days. But an enduring memory I have is below in Portlaw on a wet Saturday night in September 1995, Kill playing DLS in an Eastern Intermediate Football Final. When the late Peter Torpey scored a last-minute goal to put Kill ahead, looking back up the field all I could see was Kennedy, dressed in oilskins and numerous pullovers and hats, with an umbrella out around the middle of the field, telling us to mark up and stop celebrating, using language far more colourful than that.

Finally, on behalf of the people of Kill and the surrounding areas, I'd like to extend my sympathies to Maura, Joe, Máire, Suzie, his sister Mary and Liz, grandchildren, sons-in-law and daughter-in-law.

Martin, you were an iconic figure in Kill, from your time as a player in the black and amber of Kill, the green and white of St. Mary's and the blue and white of Waterford, to your time in the shop and your days in Kilmeaden. A great character whom it was a pleasure to be in your company. A larger-than-life figure who your own generation looked up to, as well as the generations that followed.

Wherever you go and people ask where you are from, and you tell them Kill, the name Martin Kennedy inevitably comes up.

On a personal level, I'll miss the stories and the chats.

I know the last few weeks have been like the last verse in one of your favourite songs, Ol' Man River:

*"Man gets weary and sick of trying, I'm tired of living, an’ skeared of dying, but Ol’ man river, just keeps rollin along...

Martin we’ll keep your name rolling along. May the sod of your native Kill lie gently on your soul.