There are few Gaels who don’t know the name Seán Marty Lockhart. An All-Star winner, an Ulster champion, and a man who wore the Ireland jersey with pride more times than anyone else. Lockhart has spent much of his life in the spotlight. But behind the accolades and county colours is someone whose impact runs deeper than any silverware.
Now a teacher and coach at St Patrick’s College, Maghera—a school of over 1,300 pupils where he’s taught for 25 years—Lockhart’s influence is felt as much in the corridors and classrooms as it once was on the pitch.
“If you asked my wife, she’d say the proudest moment of my life was our wedding day,” he jokes. “But I’ve been very blessed. I had a fortunate playing career and now a rewarding coaching one. But really, it’s about passing something on.”
It’s that idea—of handing things down—that crops up often when he speaks. Whether it’s football, family, or faith, Lockhart’s life is rooted in a quiet kind of stewardship.
“I’m certainly not a goody two shoes,” he says with a wry smile. “I’m no angel. I’d be a rascal at times.” But beneath the humour lies a strong moral compass—one that was instilled early on and has never quite left him.
Family
“As a family, we’d be private. We have a strong faith, and we go to Mass, but we don’t push it down anyone’s throat. We’ve three children, and we try to provide a good example for them. Rearing children is preparing them for life when you’re not there. One day we’ll be gone, and we just hope they make the right moral decisions.”
Pray for other people who need the prayers more, and God will look after you”
Lockhart’s upbringing in rural Derry was steeped in that quiet faith. He still remembers going to a local grotto with his mother, praying there before Mass, and visiting graves of loved ones—a tradition he’s kept alive.
“She used to say to me, ‘Pray for other people who need the prayers more, and God will look after you.”
That simple wisdom stuck, and it began to manifest itself in ways that went beyond Sunday mornings. A quiet, private and deeply personal routine became part of his matchday preparation.
Career
“During my club and county career, on the day before a match, I’d go to my local club pitch to train, then I’d head over to the chapel, say some prayers, visit the graves—my grandparents—and then go to the grotto. You’d just feel spiritually ready. Content with yourself. I continued that all throughout my football career.”
“In my kitbag I always had the St Martin relic or a bottle of holy water. You’d be blessing yourself for your mother when you were young,” he laughs, “but it’s only when you get older that you realise, ‘Do you know what? This does you no harm.”
And now, in small but meaningful ways, he’s passing it on.
“To me it’s like handing the torch down from my parents’ generation to my children.”
At St Patrick’s, too, faith is part of the rhythm of school life—but always with a light touch.
“There’s a strong faith within the school,” Lockhart says.
Before the All-Ireland school’s semi-final this year, I gave out the jerseys and threw a bit of holy water over them”
It can be seen woven through the school community in gentle ways. Colleagues giving the Hogan Team Managers medals and holy water before games. Pre-game team Mass in the school oratory. A principal, grieving the sudden loss of her sister, coming in to say a quiet prayer with the All-Ireland-winning Gaelic footballers before a match. Holy Spirit pins for the players, still worn on blazers months later.
“Before the All-Ireland school’s semi-final this year, I gave out the jerseys and threw a bit of holy water over them,” he says. “One of the senior lads asked for some and then passed it around.”
Faith
“For them to see you using holy water—it definitely helps. Some lads have a surprisingly stronger faith than you’d realise. It’s a constant fight to try and get young people involved, but it’s about linking them to people they look up to— a teacher or coach, a high-status GAA player, or whoever. Seeing that example really matters.”
Faith, for Lockhart, isn’t about grandeur—it’s about small acts, done with intention. It all comes down to a template laid down for others to follow.
It’s not just about sport—it’s a bit of faith too,’ he said. ‘It all comes down to an example being set; if parents are providing a good, solid foundation, I think most children will follow it’”
“Our parish Banagher runs a camp every summer called ‘Hope Camp’; the concept started in the Limavady parish. Children come down and use the facilities; there’s sport, there’s Mass, and there are prayers, games and fun activities. The bishop even comes out.”
“It’s not just about sport—it’s a bit of faith too,” he said. “It all comes down to an example being set; if parents are providing a good, solid foundation, I think most children will follow it.”
Despite that, there is always an uphill challenge to get more people involved in faith, but the community of Banagher remains steadfast in its traditions.
“There are definitely fewer people going to Mass than there used to be,” he says, “but there’s still a very strong faith within the community. During the Troubles, that faith was one of the things that kept people going up here; perhaps it meant more as they had to fight for it.”
Despite that, when Lockhart speaks to his own children, there’s one piece of advice he makes sure to pass on.
“One thing we’ve tried to teach our children is that people pray for things in life—but they rarely go back and say thank you. You must be grateful in life for what you have.”
But through it all, he’s never claimed to have it all figured out. He’s not aiming for perfection—just a life lived with purpose and a hope that a few good values get passed along the way.
“I’m not Angel Gabriel by any means,” he says. “But it’s those wee things. They stay with you.”
