By Diarmaid Doherty

IT was close to the end of Ollie’s time in charge at Finn Harps when I was speaking to him in the lead-up to a game against Derry City.

We’d finished our chat with me wishing him well for Friday night and saying we’d talk after the game.

Just hours before the match, we had an emergency on the home front with a family member taking seriously ill and I didn’t make it to the match.

I don’t miss many Harps games in Ballybofey, and Ollie, knowing something must have been up, quietly asked around to find out if something had happened.

The following day he rang me. He just wanted to make sure all was okay. It was typical Ollie.

But it’s only since his passing last Thursday morning that I realise that Ollie did things like that for so many people.

He had a genuine warmth which was endearing.

Last Friday, at a special memorial Mass celebrated in the chapel at St. Eunan’s College, his teaching colleague and dear friend Gracie Peoples, captured Ollie’s personality in a quite brilliant eulogy.

She revealed how Ollie valued each and every student at the school during his 35 years on the teaching staff. He’d keep a close eye on some of the boys who might be struggling. He was there for those who needed that extra bit of help.

“Ollie was more than just a teacher,” Gracie said.

“He was a guide, a mentor, a coach, in the classroom, on the pitch, and in life.”

And that he was. My dealings with Ollie as a sports reporter were never just about the football. Inevitably our time together would be ten minutes chatting about anything but that Friday night’s match, and then when he was ready, the quick interview.

I was on Ollie’s very first football team at St. Eunan’s College when he joined the teaching staff in 1989. That side went all the way to the All-Ireland schools U16 final losing out to Greenhills of Dublin at Tolka Park.

When I look back, those were great days, the memories of which I still cherish. I’ve no doubt that the boys on that team built up a special bond with Ollie which never really went away.

In later life, Ollie would often refer back to that team and remind me of incidents in games, or players that we came up against. He had a fantastic memory and attention to detail – something that has been mentioned by so many people over the past week.

He was also extremely clever – wise beyond his 57 years.

In some ways, he would become a father figure to so many people lucky enough to have him as a friend.

And they will all miss him. They’ll all miss the craic, the jibes, the laughs.

The League of Ireland will miss him too. Ollie lived and breathed the game and the tributes that have come in since his passing have been brilliant to listen to and to read.

He left his mark on the game, and in life.

I drove out of Salthill after Monday’s funeral and passed by Eamonn Deacy Park where the flags were flying at half-mast. Life goes on and we’ll all be back watching matches this weekend.

But for Ollie’s family, his former teaching colleagues, his players, and his many friends, it will take time to get over his passing.

He really was one of a kind.