The death recently of Phil Corrigan from Irvinestown aged 82 has robbed Fermanagh of one of it “true Gaels”.

An all too often used phrase on the death of someone immersed in the Gaelic Athletic Association, Phil Corrigan most certainly deserves that accolade but it was his ability to engage not only his family but friends and acquaintances in all aspects of the Association through his sheer enthusiasm that perhaps set him apart.

As a youngster in Irvinestown, Phil brought me to games when nobody went, we went everywhere and anywhere on a Sunday as long as Fermanagh were playing, games dissected in minute analysis on the way home. An accomplished musician himself, Phil started St. Mary’s Accordion band, which led the Fermanagh team around the pitch in both the 1982 Ulster semi-final win over Tyrone and in the final in Clones against Armagh.

As a consequence, I had one of the best seats in the house for those two mighty encounters which were quite simply the best of days. Therein grew a love of Gaelic Games in particular and sport in general around which I am even lucky enough to work in for many years.

Of course, though, it is Phil’s family who speak so fondly of him and his son-in-law Patrick McMahon, an Armagh man, who provides the perfect insight: “I first met Phil Corrigan in 1989, when I started going out with his daughter Mary, now my wife. Although an Armagh fan from the final in 1977, I didn’t know that much about Gaelic football and had been to very few matches. So began my education, with Phil as my tutor. Any Sunday I was in Irvinestown, there would be a match on somewhere, and I accompanied Phil to them, come rain, hail, snow or sunshine. Sometimes at a league match in the winter, the crowd was so poor that you were allowed to drive your car onto the bank and watch the match with the wipers on. Only the devoted fans turned up, and Phil was certainly one of those. As time went on, the matches became more regular; some years we would have gone to every match in the Ulster Championship,” revealed Patrick.

He added: “Few things annoyed Phil in life. But the sight of a team walking behind a band in Clones, but not in step, angered him. As a devotee of the marching band tradition, he couldn’t understand why the managers didn’t insist on the players marching in time with the tune. When the ball was thrown in, Phil seemed to have two pairs of eyes. One pair watched the match like the rest of us. The second pair came along a few seconds later, and caught all the off the ball incidents, particularly when the kicker was flattened after the ball had left. These were then drawn by Phil to the attention of the officials. Referees were fortunate in that they were in the middle of the field, out of earshot of Phil. But many a poor linesman had to endure Phil’s anger. “Do your job, linesman” was a regular instruction to the man on the line.

“And Phil was no respecter of celebrity. I think it was at a league match in Donagh against Mayo, managed at that time by Jack O’Shea. The Kerryman kept encroaching onto the field of play while Phil insisted that the linesman restrain him “and it doesn’t matter how many medals he has in his pocket”.

“On another day in Enniskillen, the great Jim McGuinness was being substituted. At that time Jim had a head of black curls and a similar beard. As he walked to the dugout, Phil shouted “Go on, Moses!” and inspired the Fermanagh fans around him to join in the mockery of McGuinness. Unknown to Phil, Moses later led Donegal to the Promised Land.

“Championship match days for Fermanagh always came with a sense of foreboding. Long years without success robbed fans of any optimism, even before the match started. Usually the team clung on, a few points behind until about ten or fifteen minutes to go. Then a killer score came from the opposition, the heads fell and it was all the same old story.

“Things seemed to be different one day in Armagh in the mid 90s. A free scoring Fermanagh team were eight points clear of the Orchard men with about five minutes to go. But an Armagh sub came on and scored three goals. Same old story again. Not a word was spoken in the car on the way back.

“But Phil got his revenge in 2004. An Armagh team, still full of All-Ireland winners, met Fermanagh in a Quarter Final in Croke Park. Nobody gave Fermanagh a chance. But they won, and I had to shake hands with Phil and Tim Dolan to congratulate them. I was the quiet one on the way home that day.

“Less than two weeks after Phil died, Fermanagh and Armagh met again. I watched with my son and daughter, but we found it hard to cheer for either team. It ended in a draw, with Fermanagh coming from behind. How things have changed!

“Phil departed this life on 23 February. He now spends his Sunday afternoons where the players always march in time with the band, where the officials always do their job, where the fans in green and white expect, and the team in green and white deliver.” Phil Corrigan was born in Ballinamallard in 1932, one of nine children born to Phil and Bridget Corrigan and worked for Reihills from the aged of 15, first on the farm and then in the drinks business as a bottler, lorry driver and ultimately sales representative. He married his wife Molly in 1960 and they would have been married 55 years this summer.

A community worker he collected for St Vincent de Paul, was a member of the Parish finance committee, started the marching band in the town and was a lover of Irish Music.

He is survived by Molly, his two daughters Mary and Geradette, sons-in-law Pat McMahon and Sean McCusker, six grandchildren Niall, Orla, Meabh, Joe, Sarah and Mollie and a wider family circle. Phil’s Month’s Mind will be in Sacred Heart church, Irvinestown, on Saturday, March 28 at 7.00pm.