'The Boxer who wouldn't stay down'
It is often been said by those in the know, that 'you can't keep a Portlaw man down'. There once was a boxer from Portlaw who taught all of his followers ‘how to survive'. His name was Joseph Mopp; a name that brought him ridicule for much of his life. Joseph had been counted out too many times over the years, but on each occasion he was knocked to the ground, he got back up and continued to fight on. He soon became known in the boxing fraternity from Portlaw to Bally Duff as being a brave, gutsy man of dogged determination whose sole goal was to conquer defeat.
When Joseph first put on a pair of boxing globes in his teenage years, he quickly became convinced within a matter of mere months that he was going to beat the rest of the world and any other contender who dared to step into the ring with him.He was so eager to become the champ that he thought that if he could hurry up his boxing bouts, he would advance his boxing career all the quicker.
Between rounds when the opposition would be getting wiped down on his corner stool, Joseph would be stood up throughout, goading his opponent with the words, "Come on, let's get this fight up and running!" Whenever his opponent landed a solid punch to the head of Joseph, the Portlaw boxer would simply shrug off the punch and offer his chin up and invite his opponent to hit it for free, with the words, "Come on then.Give me your best shot, you Leinster loser.....you Tipperary tub of lard!"
Between rounds when the opposition would be getting wiped down on his corner stool, Joseph would be stood up throughout, goading his opponent with the words, "Come on, let's get this fight up and running!" Whenever his opponent landed a solid punch to the head of Joseph, the Portlaw boxer would simply shrug off the punch and offer his chin up and invite his opponent to hit it for free, with the words, "Come on then.Give me your best shot, you Leinster loser.....you Tipperary tub of lard!"
Because of his capacity to soak up the punishment of many a beating inside the ring without so much as a wince, he was nicknamed 'Soaker' by others outside his hearing distance. He displayed his battle scars of cauliflower ears and broken nose with honour whenever he walked down the road of his neighbourhood. And yet, despite these boxer's scars he sported, he possessed that manliness of face that most women demand in their husband's features, however attractive or ugly in other aspects they prove to be.
However, Joseph had a secret, which none inside the boxing fraternity ever learned of during his entire boxing career. He was, in fact, as deaf as a doorpost! Apart from his immediate family, who kept the boxer's secret, it was never discovered that the boxer who refused to be 'counted out', had gone deaf many years earlier; shortly after his first professional boxing bout. At home, Joseph made use of his grandfather's nickle-plated brass ear trumpet that was known as the 'London Dome', but once outside the house and left to his own devices, he could barely hear a shout from immediately behind him.
On an evening as Joseph dodged out of the house before his wife noticed he was already half way up the street, she would shout after him, "Come back here, you marriage breaker and give that old porter a rest for one night. Come back here, Joseph. Don't run away from your responsibilities!" But, without his hearing aid, Joseph couldn't hear a word she said and all of her heartfelt pleas fell on deaf ears.
It was always thought within the boxing fraternity that his his defiant action lay behind his dogged determination to win at all cost, despite losing many of the fights he'd had in the ring for ignoring the referee's instructions to 'break' in clinches or getting valuable points deducted for hitting his opponent after the rest bell had gone to end another round. Eventually, Joseph's face, which had been extremely handsome when he first got married, began to look a pitiful sight. He received so many punches to the head that he eventually began to lose his mind and had to retire from the ring. Once retired from the ring, Joseph would be bought many a pint of porter each night he visited the pub and recounted for the benefit of drinking company, some of the worse beatings in the ring he'd ever had to endure.
However, not only was the boxer's deafness to remain a secret of the Mopp household while Joseph lived, but so was cause of his deafness. The real reason for Joseph Mopp's deafness proved to be his love and high daily intake of Irish porter, ever since he'd first tasted the stuff at the age of 16 years. Joseph loved the drink and couldn't get enough of it down his throat. He could drink twenty bottles of the stuff and still manage to find his way home in the dark. Often though he'd finish up wrapped around a post or having slept the night away in the house toilet.
Over the years, the Irish porter resulted in Joseph's total deafness and inability as a boxer to hear the bell. You see, during the early years of his marriage, like many an Irish colleen, Joseph's attractive wife thought that a direct appeal to her husband's manliness would prove a sufficient inducement to get him to stop taking the porter. So she did what all wily wives do who happen to find themselves wedded to men with an eye for the ladies; she set a honey trap.
Each night as Joseph yelled, 'Just nipping out for an odd drink sweetheart', his wife Molly would suddenly appear wearing the skimpiest and sexiest of outfits or uniforms, which she knew 'turned on' her husband. Every week she would change her hair colour to provide her man with all the types of hair shades that he preferred in a woman. One week, Molly would be Joseph's brunette, the next, his peroxide blonde; and another week she'd turn redhead for him! Joseph's eyes would almost pop out of their sockets as Molly coaxed invitingly, "That's a shame you have to go out tonight Joseph, just when I was feeling..... you know....... like a night in in front of the fire."
Each night as Joseph yelled, 'Just nipping out for an odd drink sweetheart', his wife Molly would suddenly appear wearing the skimpiest and sexiest of outfits or uniforms, which she knew 'turned on' her husband. Every week she would change her hair colour to provide her man with all the types of hair shades that he preferred in a woman. One week, Molly would be Joseph's brunette, the next, his peroxide blonde; and another week she'd turn redhead for him! Joseph's eyes would almost pop out of their sockets as Molly coaxed invitingly, "That's a shame you have to go out tonight Joseph, just when I was feeling..... you know....... like a night in in front of the fire."
Looking at her beauty once again, Joseph's intention to go out to the pub started to weaken. He was beginning to have second thoughts. His mind suddenly returned to their days of courtship, when no risk of detection would ever prevent either of them in their sexual frolics, wherever they happened to be. He thought of those hot summer days when they went walking up towards the Curramore Estate and across the fields where all the courting couples from Portlaw went. These were days of 'do and dare'; days when his colleen was one of the first females in Portlaw to have a punk rock hair style, and days when lovers threw caution to the wind. Joseph recalled a time when he and Molly had risked the inevitable consequences of their complete abandonment towards all manner of moral discipline and Catholic propriety in order to secure the loving touch of their partner.
Then, just when it looked like he might weaken in his resolve to go to the pub, Joseph's nostrils would somehow manage to smell the aroma of porter and he'd be off out the door quicker than a rabbit can run down a hole. Even the memory of his naked Molly, seductively laid on a lush expanse of green grass in the fields of Curramore wasn't strong enough to distract his mind and nostrils from returning to the porter, ready to be drunk by him as soon as he got to the pub!It was as though he was magnetised to the porter's instant attraction above all other things in his life.
Then, just when it looked like he might weaken in his resolve to go to the pub, Joseph's nostrils would somehow manage to smell the aroma of porter and he'd be off out the door quicker than a rabbit can run down a hole. Even the memory of his naked Molly, seductively laid on a lush expanse of green grass in the fields of Curramore wasn't strong enough to distract his mind and nostrils from returning to the porter, ready to be drunk by him as soon as he got to the pub!It was as though he was magnetised to the porter's instant attraction above all other things in his life.
Every night, the attractiveness of drinking porter would turn out to be stronger than the lure of his sexy-looking wife to stay in. Joseph would go out to the pub and by the time he arrived back home, he would be well and truly drunk. After her first plan didn't work, Molly Mopp did what all wives do once their good looks are no longer capable of influencing their man's behaviour and decision making; she started to play rough! Having put up with this drunken behaviour for many years of their marriage, Molly eventually decided that 'enough was enough' and when he knocked on the bedroom door to be admitted entry to the marital bed, entrance was denied with Molly's words of,'"And what do you want, Boyo? Because whatever it is, you'll not be getting it here tonight, you drunk!"
Being a good Catholic woman, Molly wanted to change her husband's bad ways, not divorce him! So Molly started to nag Joseph more and more. However, the harder she tried and the more she nagged him to stop drinking Irish porter, the more he drank. Nothing could tempt him off the drink! Soon, he started to drink all night long in the pub and wouldn't leave the bar until he was the last customer to be thrown out. Then when he arrived back home he would drink some more. In fact, wherever his wife looked in the house, whether it be the fridge, the lavatory, the children's room or under their bed, she would find bottles; bottles both full and empty. Bottles of porter everywhere! Things were rapidly getting out of control.
Having tried all other ways of changing him and failing miserably, the poor wife first lost her patience, and very soon after, she lost her temper. Every night thereafter, when her husband came home drunk, he would be welcomed inside the front door by an angry wife. His wife would greet him, holding a heavy frying pan in each hand. Upon seeing him drunk again, she would clobber him to each side of the head with their undersides; saying as she did so, " Your ears are apparently blocked to my wise words, so perhaps they'll hear this instead, blockhead!"
But the boxer's addiction to the Irish porter was greater than his fear of being battered about the head each night he came home drunk. It was only a matter of time before his eardrums collapsed and he became totally deaf. His wife and family continued to keep his secret for the rest of the boxer's life although she continued to nag him in a more threatening manner. Fortunately for Joseph, he'd grown so deaf by this stage, that like most nagging wives, Molly eventually discovered that he couldn't hear a word she shouted at him any more without his hearing trumpet that he was forever conveniently misplacing.
It was only a matter of time before Joseph Mopp became totally deaf not long after the commencement of his boxing career. Although Joseph Mopp never did give up the daily drinking of his beloved Irish porter, he was forever held in high regard in the neighbourhood and within his drinking circle. He was in effect, considered to be a brave and gutsy man that any Portlaw family would be proud of to have at its head of the family table.
It was only a matter of time before Joseph Mopp became totally deaf not long after the commencement of his boxing career. Although Joseph Mopp never did give up the daily drinking of his beloved Irish porter, he was forever held in high regard in the neighbourhood and within his drinking circle. He was in effect, considered to be a brave and gutsy man that any Portlaw family would be proud of to have at its head of the family table.
When the boxer’s career was over and he never fought in the ring again, others who had followed his fights were content in the knowledge that they had not followed in vain. They'd all learned something of tremendous importance; something of undeniable truth: in order to succeed and retain the respect of one's peer group, all a person who has been knocked down has to do is ‘to get back up'.
I must point out however, that it is easier to 'get up off the floor when too much Irish porter hasn't been drunk beforehand.'
Copyright William Forde : March 2012
I must point out however, that it is easier to 'get up off the floor when too much Irish porter hasn't been drunk beforehand.'
Copyright William Forde : March 2012
