The word from the RTÉ number crunchers is that 1.7million people across the country tuned in to see Kellie Harrington bless us with another magical Olympic night. Well, if it wasn’t for my daughter, that number would have been 1,699,999.
I’d got home from a two-week volunteering trip to Kenya on Tuesday night and fell on to the couch, absolutely shagged. But Ashley wasn’t going to let my jetlag be an excuse for missing a piece of history. And bless her for shaking me because waking up and watching Kellie do what she did, the way she did it, and celebrate it the way she did will live with me forever. A where-were-you moment that you know the answer to in an instant.
What a bloody night. I know I’m supposed to be a hard man and maybe too much of the time I am. But watching the footage of Kellie celebrating with a song, her voice that perfect mix of soft and strong that she seems to carry in everything she does, hit me hard. Then when I saw her mam standing at the door of the house back in Portland Row singing the same song I had more than a tear in my eye. There were a few rolling down my face too. My tache came in handy, mopping them up. We probably use a word like heartwarming too often but watching those moments, I could have put my hand to my chest and felt it heating up.
What is it about Kellie Harrington that makes us feel the way we feel? I think it’s probably somewhere there in the lyrics echoing through Roland Garros late into the night and then the next morning in the smiles lighting up the faces of the residents of a care home in St Denis where Harrington decided to take the second Olympic gold medal of her life. Gracing her supporters with her voice, gracing those residents with her presence and prize, Harrington is just the definition of genuine grace — and joy.
In the Mukuru slums in Nairobi over the last couple of weeks I was privileged to hold a couple of boxing clinics for local kids. In my time there, I met an amazing woman, Sister Mary Killeen, who has been working in Kenya since the 70s and in Mukuru for over 30 years now. Myself and a few others on the trip chatted and all agreed Sr Mary needs to be made a saint any day now.
I’m not making light of either woman (or the church!) when I say there’s something saintly about Kellie Harrington too. Look at the way she connects with people, how she inspires across generations, the messages she spreads and what she has done for the image of the north inner city, incidentally where Sr. Mary also grew up. At the very least Kellie is Ireland’s sporting saint and Tuesday was the night when she blessed us all over again.
Because this is the thing: there’s the small matter of what preceded the singsongs and celebrations, the fight itself. I’m not alone in being of the opinion that victory in the semi-final against Beatriz Ferreira, the current IBF pro lightweight champion, was Kellie’s pinnacle, a bout where all of her brilliance came together in nine perfect minutes.
But she had to then manage her emotions and follow that up against a tricky opponent. Instead Wenlu Yang of China was immediately made to look a mere mortal in there. Kellie’s footwork was blurringly brilliant, switching southpaw and back early on with genuinely absurd ease. She did it all with a smile. It was a procession until the finish line came into view. Back-to-back Olympic golds? What a thing to do. And for the millions of us, what a thing to see.
The watch party on Portland Row looked like something really special. Kellie’s north inner city journey, and the crucial part Corinthians Boxing Club played in it all, is well told. I know the area fairly well myself. Craig O’Brien, one of my closest friends and a great fighter, is a Corinthians man and lives nearby. I’ve often stayed with him there. I know as a Corkman I could be killed for this but I really do think there’s no one like inner-city Dubs. Their hospitality and warmth is unmatched. They’re beautiful people. I’ve never met Kellie’s parents but I’ll make it my business to give them a knock next time I’m up.
Kellie might be around. She might be at a loose end, if her promise on Tuesday night that that was her final fight is to stand. I happen to think having confirmed herself as the greatest amateur boxer Ireland has ever produced, she could really give the pro game a crack. She already has the number of Ferreira. A couple of warm-up fights and she could have a shot at that belt. Maybe there’s even a scenario where she and Katie Taylor could finally meet. Having fought her way out of Katie’s shadow in Tokyo, Kellie now casts a huge one of her own.
I used the word ‘could’ there because that’s the only way this can be talked about. Kellie has earned the right, twice over now, to be the only one who decides what she ‘should’ do. If she opts to head off into the sunset with her wife, I’ll be just as happy for her. "The next chapter is going to be my life chapter, and it's for me and Mandy now,” she said. "I just can't wait to live my life.”
But we know that whatever path she takes, Kellie will continue to make a difference in the lives of normal people, spreading joy and light and life. It’s the only way she knows how. Before anything else, there’ll be a homecoming. It had better be one fit for a saint. Because we’re truly blessed to have her.