Lewis will never be forgotten
Paul Fitzpatrick
A friend sent me on the iconic poem, To An Athlete Dying Young, by AE Housman, during the week.
It begins: “The time you won your town the race, We chaired you through the market-place; Man and boy stood cheering by, And home we brought you shoulder-high.”
We were talking about the passing of Lewis-Fay Cooper, the brilliant, smiling young captain of Killinkere, a hero of their recent championship win. Nobody in the football fraternity in Cavan will ever forget where they were when they heard the dreadful news. It was unthinkable, unspeakable and unbelievable.
I first saw ‘Lewie’ playing with the Cavan minors about five years ago and was struck by his dashing play, his speed and his class on the ball. And there was something else about him, too, something hard to define but easy to pick out.
It was there in his almost military gait, which belied his breezy manner, his handsome appearance, the princely way in which he carried himself. Later, on meeting him, it was immediately apparent that he had charisma and he was a leader, despite his tender years.
Around that time five years ago, my friend and colleague Damien Donohoe took over as manager of the Killinkere senior footballers. Players and coach got on famously and quickly struck up a tight bond.
It was a talented, honest and hard-working panel with a few real stars but fairly soon, from listening to Damien, a good judge of a player and a person, I realised that Lewie was a thoroughbred, a young lad capable of operating at the highest level. And that’s unusual because it takes more than just physical attributes to do it – it takes courage and, most of all, belief in your own ability.
Lewis had that, in bucketloads. In the way he spoke and presented himself, he put me in mind of Craig Lynch, another young Cavan sportsman taken long, long before his time. Not cocky but blessed with a deep-seated confidence and a determination to match it.
In 2018, Killinkere got to the Junior Championship final and the then county board PRO Mark O’Rourke, innovative as always, organised a press night in the Hotel Kilmore. I knew Lewis, the footballer, but that was the first time I met Lewis, the man.
Unusually in rural Cavan, he wasn’t born into the game. Rather, his love for it grew from his love for his friends, the craic they had together in the dressing room and on the pitch. It was an image which immediately struck me – here was a young man, 21 years of age, captaining his team into a county final and happy to reveal that he saw football as an extension of his friendships with those around him.
“I never really picked it up [football] till I was maybe 13 or 14, I moved up here from down south,” he said.
“I basically didn't know what it was, there's no real football in my family. It was never a burning passion when I was young but from the camaraderie, going through different things together, growing up with lads and playing football with them constantly, it built solidly over the last couple of years and I'd definitely say it's the number one priority in my life at the moment and has been for the last couple of years.”
Killinkere were due to play Drumlane in that final and their captain didn’t go in for any plamásing or talking down his team’s chances. They were in it to win it, he said. Why else would they bother?
I asked him did he think, when they had played Drumlane earlier in the season, that they could end up meeting again in the county final.
“Well, we didn't have any fear that we might lose to them,” he replied.
“Myself and us in the club, we have no fear that we will lose to anyone. In terms of meeting them in any game, we wouldn't really fear that.”
Footballers nowadays are loathe to say anything that might provide motivation to the opposition yet here was a young man with no apprehension, bursting with excitement at the prospect of taking the stage in front of thousands of people.
In the end, Killinkere lost that final in a replay. Their long wait – one of the longest in the county – for a championship would roll on into 2019. Then, last September, they qualified for the final again and I spoke to Lewie at another press night. In the meantime, Killinkere had been promoted to Division 1 of the league and it was clear what it meant to him.
“It was massive. I was so overjoyed on making it to Division 1 that I was in tears after the game. It was an immense feeling.
“I’ve played with a lot of the Ramor lads or Cavan lads or whatever down through the years and saw them play at a high level and it was something that I was personally envious of. It was a magnificent moment and… I can’t wait for it.”
Tragically, he will never now get the chance to do that. Fate intervened, a freak accident. Coming as it did just days after the loss of another popular young footballer, Shane Halton from Cornafean, it was a hammer blow. Club rivalries disappeared and the football community, young and old, were plunged into a sincere and deep mourning for what was lost.
The restrictions in place due to the pandemic deprived both lads’ families, neighbours and many friends the opportunity to not only pay their respects in the traditional manner but to begin the healing process by coming together.
All they can do is remember their friend and teammate as he was. Housman’s poem speaks to the immortality sporting achievement bestows and the poignancy of a sportsman being taken in his prime.
“Now you will not swell the rout, Of lads that wore their honours out, Runners whom renown outran, And the name died before the man.
“So set, before its echoes fade, The fleet foot on the sill of shade, And hold to the low lintel up, The still-defended challenge-cup.”
The man may be gone but the cup he won gleams on the dresser and the name and the memories will live forever, forever young. The Killinkere club put it better than I can: í measc Naomh na hÉireann agus Laochra na nGael go raibh sé.
May he be among the saints of Heaven and the heroes of the Gael.