Tell ya a funny story.
Long time ago when I was just a young 18 year old I worked for a brief stint on Northern Ireland Railways. It was during my second year in college and the training course sent me to work for them. Tedious trolly service job. My day was spent on and off trains carting this fkin trolly serving over priced tea, coffee and snacks to the poor b8stard that would travel too and from work. I started on the 8am train out of Belfast and arrived back in Belfast at 6PM. My job would take me first to Ballymena where I would get off the train, cross the platform and get back on a return as far as Antrim. From there I would cross the platform again and back onto a train up to Londonderry for lunch, an hour in L'derry before getting back on the train to Antrim, then back onto the other side for the train to Ballymoney where I had a 45 minute wait before catching the train back to Belfast. So to aid with the confusion I have just caused I will draw this handy map.
See, now it all makes sense, the red line obviously was the train line.
As said above, it was a tedious job with much time spent dreaming of better things or just reading or sleeping, ok mostly sleeping. One hot summer day I had reached the fair town of Ballymoney and all I wanted to do was have a pint. So I called into the pub next door to the station, it used to be called the Station Bar but now it has had its name changed. I ordered a pint of the best piss water on offer, Harp, and I had one of those moments. You know the ones, where your looking at someone thinking "I know this guy but I am fked if I know how I know him." I had one of those as he was pouring my pint. Familiar looking face, one I ought to know but I cant place it. I glanced, as one does, around the bar and I noticed the trophies arranged on the back bar, the photo of the same guy who was just finishing off my pint with a pretty girl hanging off his arm and a winners wreath thingy around his neck.
And then the penny dropped.
"your Joey Dunlop" I exclaimed. Well I think I said that, what I probably said was mumble mumble stutter stutter blurt argh! But it was a struggle to even manage that. he shook my hand and said "I am aye, pleased to meet you." I told him I was a fan and sat down to finish my pint in relative silence contemplating this man behind the bar, watching as he got on with the regular barman job and how much respect I had for the guy. I might have been sitting all star stuck and awed but to be honest I didnt care. Joey Dunlop was an ordinary guy who done ordinary things along side his extraordinary career and the Joey I met seemed a sound guy talking to the customers just like any bar man would. I called in a few times after that but never saw the guy again. Probably away testing for the IOM or any number of other races he rode in each year.
His bar is now called Joeys and the old back room has been turned into a museum area celebrating the life and times of a legend.
We grew up loving this guys racing, we grew up watching him back home, and we all shed a tear when he died. I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time and in the presence of this guy we sit in awe of as bikers and I dont know if it was me being all star stuck and doe eyed but the fact that he was doing an every day job makes him all the more special in my books. He had the money to retire from work and only ride bikes but every now and then you'd be lucky enough to have the man pull you a pint. Top man.