Chick was into boxing. He boxed in his time. He learned the rudiments under the street light in Bohermore. He later taught the rudiments in a transport 20 foot container before the Celtic Tiger populated the country with flood lights. He was a Connacht champion but he coached many Irish champions. We remember Rucán, Seaneen Harty and Michael John Heffernan. He put them all into his little van and drove them the length and breath of the country, minded them, worked the corner, sponged them, encouraged them, pointed the crooked finger at them, guided them, stayed sober and drove them home again. And opened the shop the following morning, first thing. I'm not sure if he ever got petrol money but I very much doubt it. He produced an Olympian and the Olympian carried the Irish flag at the Georgia 1996 Games opening parade.

The Diary remembers well the day he took the call from Bill O'Herlihy, can't remember whether it was television or radio but it was live. He crossed the road to the Atlanta Hotel to take the call. Okey Dokey said and I quote some twelve years later " Chick Gillen I betcha that in your wildest dreams you never thought for a moment that Francie Barrett would ever get to an Olympic Games never mind carry the Irish flag in an opening ceremony?" The answer was obvious, Okey Dokey himself had begged it. That's right Bill, I never thought it. But you never take Chick Gillen for granted. Nice guys have minds of their own too. Chick pursed the lips and duly told him 'ah I did, he was always a good lad, worked hard etc.'. Suffice to say the ensuing silence in studio was uneasy.

Chick embraced the Travellers, brought them in from the cold, taught them to box, gave them something worthwhile, empowered them, legitimized them. Today they not only box but they referee and judge the game. What a huge contribution to the Travellers and to society. Fr. Ned Crosby aided and abetted.

Chick led many different lives. He loves the land, they say he has lots of it. He loves guns and dogs, he had lots of them. He was always up earlier on a Sunday than the other six early risings. There was so much to do. So much life to be lived. So much fun to have. So much to share. He loves horses and donkeys. He bred them, he reared them, he raced them. He probably talked to them.

Chick loved family. He had more foster children than his biological family. There never was a difference, still isn't. He married a Dub, Maureen. He thought she was the bees knees, still does! She is. None of his family are barbers just Ph.Ds in loads of different things, all successful in different walks of life. Some teach, not in schools but in universities.

Not so very long ago much of the social life in Galway centred on Seapoint Ballroom in Salthill. Chick was a friendly doorman when not all doormen were friendly. He could be forgiving when not all doormen were forgiving. He knew everything, he saw everything, because he was always sober (never took a drink in his life), but he never spoke out of turn. He was as discreet as he was wise.

He may be 75 even if he looks about 47 and a bit. Retirement will allow him to do even more exciting and enjoyable things.

Nearly forgot about the sporting moment of the week. Maybe the simplicity of Ireland's first try against Scotland or maybe the complexity of Joe Canning's early goal in Limerick. Nope, neither, it was Chick turning the key for the last time in Dominick Street. Happy retirement Chick.

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