Meghann Mix with Meghann Scully: My greatest sporting hero

THE word sporting legend isn’t used lightly. There’s very few that can truly hold that status and live with it. I grew up with a sporting idol, my father, Maxie.

He applied for the Army Cadets to pursue his dream of becoming an Irish showjumper. The Army Equitation team has always been highly regarded in the equestrian world and produced some very successful showjumpers.

The programme was established in 1926 and one of the first to be called was Major Ged O’Dwyer from Limerick.

A kidney transplant at the delicate age of 21 meant his hopes of making that team were quashed and a future of medication and further health complications lay ahead.

In fact, he was given the last rights in his hospital bed after the major surgery because the kidney simply did not take.

I’m not entirely sure what happened but the following morning Dad was sitting up in bed drinking tea and so began his new life. Not long after this episode, he wanted to get back in the saddle and get back to what he loved.

He came across a chestnut gelding the night before a high jump competition was taking place in the Simmonscourt Arena in Dublin. While trying to buy this horse, who was unknown to him, he faced another challenge.

The organisers didn’t want to let him enter due to his health condition (by the way, he was advised against any activities that would cause any strain to the body).

He eventually got over the line, got his new horse and the following day would take on an incredible challenge. Not only did he enter, he removed the saddle from the horse.

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Dad went in and he took on a fence that was six foot seven and half inches. As he descended from that great height, he heard poles rattle and realised he hadn’t done it. That was until all four hooves landed on the sand and the entire crowd erupted. He did it.

In the years that followed, he donned the green jacket for the Irish team but his health would always interfere and prevent him from competing. Heart attacks, a triple heart bypass and many more surgeries followed. But after each knock, he picked himself back up again and rode on.

Horses became a permanent fixture in his healing. It gave him purpose and hope. Horses needed to be fed and worked and while he had help, he wanted and needed to do it.

The Dublin Horse Show was my father’s favourite show and a week where we would let the horses out to grass so we could enjoy it.

Each year I couldn’t wait for the second week of August to come round. It was our annual trip away, just the two of us. But we would meet all the familiar faces and celebrate with those competing.

Fast forward to August 2006. It was a very different summer. His health finally caught up with him.

The show began on Wednesday, August 9. On that very day, we were in a very different location. We were in hospital. Dad deteriorated rapidly and each day was a blessing.

At some moments, I expected him to sit up, get out of bed and get us to Dublin.

His favourite competitions of the week were the Nations Cup (Friday) and the Puissance (Saturday). That Friday, he took another turn and in the early hours of August 12, he took his final breath, at the young age of 52.

Thirty one years earlier, he got handed a lifeline, another chance at life. In the years since, I have met some of the greatest sporting heroes and I'm in awe of them.

Sport takes sacrifice, it takes determination, it takes skill, it takes heart and it takes drive, something I saw in my Dad every single day that he lived.