Three and a half decades ago, a Kildare man climbed the steps of the Hogan Stand to lift the Sam Maguire aloft, capping the greatest summer of all for those on Leeside. The towering figure of Larry Tompkins captained his adopted county to their sixth All-Ireland title, their second in a row, and their second ever double, cementing Cork’s place in history.
Three weeks after the hurlers had defeated Galway to lift the Liam McCarthy Cup, Tompkins and his troops, under the stewardship of the great Billy Morgan, overcame Meath 0-11 to 0-9. Tompkins delivered a captain’s performance, kicking four points. The victory also marked a century since Cork achieved the famous double for the first time in 1890.
From 1979 until 1984, Tompkins quickly established himself as the county’s standout performer despite their lack of silverware. Then necessity broadened his horizons”
It was a long and winding road that saw the Kildare native become one of Cork’s greatest ever Gaelic footballers. A Rolls-Royce of a player, the Eadestown-turned-Castlehaven icon won two All-Irelands, six Munster crowns, and three All Stars with his adopted Rebel home. He was once described by the legendary Mick O’Dwyer as one of the finest ever to play the game.
Having lined out for his native Kildare from 1979 until 1984, Tompkins quickly established himself as the county’s standout performer despite their lack of silverware. Then necessity broadened his horizons.
The youngest of seven in a household full of tradesmen, the economy of 1980s Ireland forced a move abroad. For Tompkins, that meant New York, where he spent three years playing with Donegal New York GAA club.
On the western edge of the North Atlantic, he befriended a group of brothers from Castlehaven who would eventually persuade him to return home and help the West Cork club capture their first ever county title in 1989. That success soon led to Tompkins being selected as county captain in 1990, Cork’s most famous year of all.
Hammer blow
But just over two years ago, Tompkins was dealt a hammer blow: a tumour on the wall of his lung was discovered, as well as one of the rarest forms of cancer on earth, affecting roughly one in five million people.
He has since undergone 25 rounds of radiation. Such is the rarity of the illness, it was not detected for some time, with Ireland’s top medical professionals seeking expertise on his treatment from a leading hospital in London.
“I went through the wars a bit last year, and I’m a little bit better now. I’ve recovered reasonably well, but I only have one lung. The other lung is still there, but it’s more or less dead. They were afraid to operate on it because it was a bit risky, and they were getting advice and expertise from a hospital in London.”
“I’m still on treatment, and hopefully I can keep it at bay. It’s a very rare cancer. This time last year I was in hospital, and I spent about five months in and out, so you appreciate good health when you come out of that. It’s really the only thing that matters in life; health is wealth, and that’s absolutely true.”
“I went through radiation, and I’m on an immunotherapy tablet every day, so the last couple of months have been good enough, but it’s a fight every day. It’s something that I just have to live with, and hopefully make the best of it and survive for another good while if I can.”
It began with a simple pain in his chest. Given how uncommon the cancer is, doctors initially feared it might be linked to asbestos exposure from Tompkins’ early career as a carpenter. Tests ruled that out, but the pain persisted.
Despite rigorous examinations, the tumour went undetected. It would take another twelve months before a diagnosis finally arrived. Since then, Tompkins has embarked on a gruelling medical journey, with even the country’s leading specialists navigating largely uncharted territory because of its rarity.
“Unfortunately, I should have been diagnosed twelve months earlier, but it just wasn’t picked up. Who knows, I might have been able to save my lung if it had. I had numerous cameras put down my throat, but it was just unfortunately missed. I have the diagnosis now, and hopefully I can drive on from here and contain it from spreading, and the last six months have been positive that way.”
Even those experts probably don’t even know how it hasn’t spread or for how long I’ve had it; it’s a grey area. Who knows, it might wither away”
“They just don’t know. It might have started very small and got worse as time went on, and when they tried to save the lung, it was just too late because the fluid had been in the lung for so long. It’s like having water in a plastic bag; after a while it gets withered, and you just can’t revitalise it again.”
“The surgeon told me that it’s the complete unknown because they are finding their way with it and getting advice from London. Even those experts probably don’t even know how it hasn’t spread or for how long I’ve had it; it’s a grey area. Who knows, it might wither away. I’m hoping that I can keep it at bay and keep it contained.”
Tompkins has faced many battles all his adult life, from forced emigration after learning his trade to returning home and fighting tooth and nail with the Kildare county board to secure his transfer to Cork.
Rebels
On the field he played for the Rebels for close to a decade, earning a place in the hearts of the Cork public through sheer courage and craft. Now, in his sixties, he faces the toughest contest of all, one with no final whistle.
For a man who once climbed the Hogan Stand on County Cork’s most famous day of all at the peak of sporting glory, the measure of victory has changed. These days winning is counted in quiet walks, good days, and staying as healthy as can be with the love of two counties that still call him their own.
“Cork is my home now, and my family is here but I’d still have great feelings for Kildare and the people of Kildare. Since I got sick, I’ve been inundated with calls from the county. But equally Cork is my home, and there’s no better place if you ask me.”
“I’m not near 100 per cent, but at least I can live a reasonably good life. The cancer weakens you, but you have to stay strong and be positive. Get out and do your walks and fight against it.”
“Mentally it can be very tough, and it can get to you because you might think you’ll never get back to the way you were, and that might be true. But if I can keep the way I am, I’ll be very happy. If I can get to 80 or more, I’ll be very happy. I’m 62 at the moment, so hopefully I can get up the ladder a bit more.”
