Crime in Sports - #460 - The Trouble - Eamonn "The Terminator" Magee - Part 1

Episode Date: May 13, 2025

This week, we start a series on a man who grew up in Northern Ireland, amidst "The Trouble" of the time. In part 1, we look at his origins, including boxing, from the age of 5, and watching his father be beaten by British soldiers, to eventually joining the youth wing of the IRA. He also fights anyone, and everyone. Doesn't take any guff from teachers, and comes up with a new, and horrifying way to get out of going to school!! Steal your first drink from an alcoholic delivery driver, visit your father in an internment camp, and take a swing at your teacher with Eamonn "The Terminator" Magee - Part 1!!Check us out, every Tuesday!We will continue to bring you the biggest idiots in sports history!! Hosted by James Pietragallo & Jimmie Whisman Donate at... patreon.com/crimeinsports or with paypal.com using our email: [e-mail] Get all the CIS & STM merch at crimeinsports.threadless.com Go to shutupandgivememurder.com for all things CIS & STM!!  Contact us on... twitter.com/crimeinsports [e-mail] facebook.com/Crimeinsports instagram.com/smalltownmurderSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can listen to crime and sports early and ad free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple podcasts. When Luigi Mangione was arrested for allegedly shooting the CEO of United Healthcare, he didn't just spark outrage, he ignited a cultural firestorm. Is the system working? Or is it time for a reckoning? I'm Jesse Weber. Listen to Law and Crime's Luigi exclusively on Wondery Plus. This might just be the most important book you'll ever read. Go to SurvivalGuidebook.com to pre-order How to Survive Against the Odds today. Hello everybody and welcome back to Crime and Sports. Yay! Oh yay indeed, Jimmy, yay indeed.

My name is James Petragallo, I'm here with my co-host. I'm Jimmy Wissman. Thank you folks so much for joining us today on another crazy edition of Crime and Sports. We're gonna start another multi-parter this week. Won't be 10 parts, it's not Evil Knievel. And it's the opposite of Evil Knievel, rather than a person that like everyone on Earth has heard of, and it's like this pop culture icon.

Here's a guy that no one's heard of. Nice. But has one of the most interesting lives and then just terrible criminal. It's a mess. It's such a mess. It's one of those where if you look them up on the internet, you don't find very much, but then there's a couple of books and then you find all the real stuff.

And it is wild stuff. We'll get into all of that and more. First off though, head over to shutupandgivemurder.com. Get your tickets for live shows, for Small Town Murder, that is. Definitely get your tickets, I almost said March the 17th. No, that's way wrong.

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they're selling fast, so if you wanna go to a show, I suggest you get them right now. Even if you wanna come in December, grab your tickets early. Yeah, do it up there. So thank you for doing that. You definitely, definitely wanna get Patreon. I don't know what you're doing.

There's no better way to spend five bucks in Patreon. Anybody five dollars a month or above, we give you, we really put out for Patreon. We put out. It is prom night every night on Patreon. Tell you what, we give you the goods. This isn't just, you know, give us five bucks because you like us.

This is, we're going to deliver you some serious episodes. Anybody five dollars a month or above you get not only when you first subscribe you're gonna get hundreds of back episodes of bonus stuff you've never heard to binge on then you get new ones every other week do one crime and sports one small-town murder damn it you get all of them that's what we do here this week for crime and sports for we're gonna talk about college coach sex scandals There's a lot. There's a lot the horniest group of people that have ever lived

Are people who coach could look at Bill Belichick even everything was fine Normal coach the Patriots and the NFL for 30 years goes to college within a minute of him being hired He's got like a 22 year old girlfriend and they're doing crazy fucking interviews it's wild. He got himself a junior. A grand junior are you kidding me? You get on that college campus and that dick just gets hard and it's not only the guys too the women are horny just as horny it's wild. My favorite part of that story is that everybody's like ew that's so gross of her how dare she and then her ex- that story, James, is that everybody's like, ew, that's so gross of her. How dare she?

And then her ex-boyfriend came out and is like, she's wise beyond her years. He's 64. That's her ex-boyfriend. Yeah. She's got a type. Yeah, seems like a bit of a type. And I bet he wasn't a poor man either, something tells me.

CEO of a company. Exactly. Yeah. I'm going to say, this wasn't some 64-year-old that just started taking Social Security and he's gonna go greet at Walmart on the side to make ends meet. She's looking to have a career like a military man.

She puts in 20 years and then that guy's dead and she has everything. Yeah, moving up. So then for Small Town Murder, we're gonna talk about some last meals, some death row last meals. We talked about this a few years ago with some famous ones. We're going to do some less famous ones just because I find the psychology of what you want your last meal to be.

Fascinating. I don't like the idea of that Instagram with the guy that tastes, he makes it and tastes it. That feels real creepy. I just want to talk about it. Let's just talk about it, laugh a little bit, figure out why. That's patreon.com slash crime in sports and you get a shout out at the end of the show where Jimmy will mess your name all up for you. Sure will, yeah.

I mean it's a bargain, five bucks for that, can't beat it. That said, let's get right to this with our asshole of the week here and for a few weeks he will be Eamon McGee. Sure. Yeah, you never heard of him, right? No Emon is E-A-M-O-N-N and M-A-G-E-E McGee. No idea. Yeah, so he's a boxer. He's got several nicknames. One is the Terminator

Oh, and the other is the Miracle Man. Okay. Eamonn, the Miracle Man McGee. Born July 13th, 1971. And where he's born is going to play a major part in our story and his life and everything else. He's from Belfast, Northern Ireland. Now, he's born in 71. So if you think about, if you don't know anything about like the whole Northern Ireland thing with England and everything, listen to the first U2 album I guess would be the best. That's a start. Sunday?

So listen to that and New Year's Day and all that shit. Like that's all, it's all about this. The whole fucking album's about that. So you can get into that. There's a lot of fighting and we'll give you a little bit of background and mainly center it around kind of his Neighborhood and what happened with him because if we got into the bigger conflict that would be another five parts

There's no we can't can't do that. We can't do this isn't a podcast about fucking Well, it is about history, but it's not about like sectarian violence and fucking Yeah, it's not about that really it's how it affects our guy really is how we're gonna do it so he'll end up being a like a light welterweight and a welterweight boxer little five foot eight guys on a huge guy or anything like that decent boxing record as we'll talk about here represented Ireland in the in some sort of games. So anyway, here is from, there's a book about him

that we'll talk about, I'll give you the name of the book and all that kind of shit, but here is a kind of a quote from the book, it's a good place to start out for Eamonn. A quote about him, quote, he holds a magnetism that appears to attract trouble and tragedy in equal measure. That's great right there. He's Shakespearean for Christ's sake.

That's not bad. Oh, this book is not written like a normal sports book like in America. This is not a normal sports book is like he then went to school for four years to go to play football. Like they read like it's written for people who are yes, it's written for people that are dumb enough to want to read a story about a dumb guy. You know what I mean? So I, and I know this cause I've read a million of them for this show and everything else. Like they're not written with, you know, Oh, I'm going to win a Pulitzer in mind here. It's just, so this is different.

Comparing numbers and going, which one's bigger? Who's the winner? Yeah, he had more touchdowns, you know Whereas over there in Europe if you're writing things in a book it still has to be written with some sort of literary competency I believe it's a little different fucking Standard so yes to attract trouble and tragedy in equal measure with fleeting flashes of glory occasionally interspersing the two gifted and flawed to characteristics guaranteed to produce a compelling subject. Yeah, that's crime and sports. That's the that's pretty much you could pretty much put that as our description for crime and sports every week. He holds a magnetism that that should be the show's description on all the podcasts

rather than you know looking at a criminal ad leader. Tragedy and pain equally, is that what it is? Trouble and he attracts, holds a magnetism that appears to attract trouble and tragedy in equal measure. With fleeting flashes of glory occasionally interspersing the two. That's my wife. That's, yes, that's a comedian. That's us.

You're damn right. That's what I mean. This describes us, this describes our show, this describes a lot. It's really- Lots of wrestlers and athletes. It's crime and sports, man. So mother and father. Father is Terrence McGee, and we'll find out about him. He's part of the whole Northern Ireland movement,

and he'll end up in jail for most of Eamonn's time and everything, and his mom is Isabel, but I-S-O-B-E-L, Isabel. That is not it. Isabel, how do you spell that? Isobel, I-S-O-B-E-L, Isabel. Isobel. Isobel, or maybe it's Isobel, that'sS-O-B-E-L, Isabel. Isabel. Isabel, or maybe it's Isabel, that's possible.

I don't know, they're Irish, so who knows? Say it with that accent, and who the hell can tell? Irish Isabel, Isabel. Yeah, he has older brothers also, Terry, Noel, and Pat, and they're all boxers as well. Sure. So this family is just people, you fight your way out. Yeah, I don't finish every day. Bunch of tough people here. He'll end up with a wife named Mary, So this family is just people you fight your way out. Yes. Yeah a bunch of

Bunch of tough people here. He'll end up with a wife named Mary and he's gonna have four children Wow, Oh Iman including Iman jr. Of course, of course he had to name him Iman jr. Why wouldn't he? So he's born like we said July 13th 1971 in Belfast He started boxing when he was five years old. Really? Yeah, went into the gym when he was five. By the time he was seven, he was having his first supervised,

you know, actual matches. Wow, wow. And beating the shit out of other kids. You can fight your kids? Oh yeah, yeah. Remember the wire? You send the little tiny kids in there. They'll fight it up Yeah, go down to South Phoenix. There's a few gyms there

Yeah, there's go down there. You will see eight-year-olds in the 110 degree heat doing knuckle push-ups on the fucking Yeah, every 200 degree black locks. They'd stop and drop and do ten. It's it's fucking yeah Yeah, that's to be a great boxer I mean some guys don't usually yeah, to be a great boxer, I mean some guys don't, usually heavy. To be a great heavyweight, you don't have to start when you're a little kid. Yeah.

Because you have some, you know, un-otherworldly punching power, it's a different story. But to be a great lightweight fighter, it's so much skill and it's such a technical thing, you almost have to start when you're very little to be a great lighter weight fighter I'm just you don't hear about lighter weight fighters didn't box till they were at 17 and then were champions It doesn't happen. Yeah, they get smoked by yeah

They get smoked by guys that have been doing it since they were seven Whereas you do hear about a heavyweight never walked into a gym. He was 17, you know Knock the former world champion out with one punch. You know, I mean like that could happen So his maternal grandfather, mom's father, was also a boxer. So it's in the family too, boxing. So it's interesting here. So he grows up in Erdoin.

Erdoin? Erdoin? A-R-D-O-Y-N-E. It's an area of Belfast. Erdoin. I'll say it wrong. doing I'm gonna say our doing and say it wrong It doesn't but that's where he grows up and that's kind of very much shaping his life because of all the crazy shit That's going on there Never had an easy life at all a lot of struggle a lot of bullshit

This is from the book listen to this okay Never had an easy life at all. A lot of struggle, a lot of bullshit. This is from the book, listen to this. Okay. Everything in life is relative, and even in the company of his fighting peers, the narrative of Iman's childhood stands out as a particularly extreme version of the oft-told ghetto kid against the odds pugilistic chronicle.

So yeah, worse than most that we hear about essentially here. The boxes of poverty, adversary, substance abuse, an incarcerated father, and problems with authority are all ticked with a bold, indelible marker pen. But what sets McGee apart is the ethno-political conflict that raged around the young fighter and consumed the community in which he grew up in. That's the thing. People in America, boxers in America, don't grow up with political strife,

where there's bombings and all, we just don't grow up like that here. So it's a completely different life to come up in. There is, I mean, in certain communities, there were riots and such. Yeah, but. Even fairly recently. Yeah, yeah. It's not, it's still not.

It's not an ongoing, persistent, pervasive thing in the community where every day, oh no, the soldiers are coming, they might kick our door in and take data away, you know? Throwing medics and shit, yeah. Yeah, so that's kind of a different way to grow up. I mean, I'm sure there's, I know there's yeah, so that's a that's kind of a different way to grow up I mean, I'm sure there's I know there's African fighters that grew up in places where like warlords ruled over and that that that happens But like in this country, it's not really that common

No, no. Yeah, it's a little bit rare You'll get the like South American people too that come from Central America or some you know war-torn shit somewhere Yeah, some government that's flipped over four times in the last 30 years and shit like that. I mean, they have the Lost Boys in Arizona that are like refugees from Sudan that are like, dude, they're from- Yeah, there you go. They've seen shit, man.

It's crazy. There you go. Yeah, yeah. That's normal, but not in America, usually. So they say, McGee was born and raised within the epicenter of Belfast's sectarian violence in Ardoyne, again, I'll mispronounce it, a small, I'm sure some of our listeners will tell us. The great thing about people over there

that we fucking love is they'll tell us, but it'll be like, oh, I can't, this is how you say it. You guys are fucking great, love you, is like, that's what they'll tell us but it'll be like oh I can't this is how you say it You guys are fucking great. Love you is like that. That's what they'll say. I'll be like, oh great Those people are awesome. We get that kind of shit. You're dumb as shit, but you're great I love we get like especially Irish English a lot of the like messages from Ireland will be like hey cunts I love you. It's like That's great. We love it. Keep it coming. We'll fucking take it. So within there, a small Republican enclave, and they don't mean America Republican, different thing,

of barely 5,000 people surrounded on all sides by the loyalist strongholds of the Crumlin Road, Glenburn, and Torrens estate. It is what is known in Belfast as an interface area, a drop of green in a perilous lake of red, white, and blue separated from geographical neighbors by so-called peace walls barbed wire top barriers that are all over the city.

Yeah, shit was wild. They said the isolation naturally fosters a siege mentality, a belief that it's them against the world and they must fight to survive anybody That feels like they're trapped somewhere. That's what it is Whether it's here or the projects or wherever the fuck you're trapped in when you're trapped you're trapped You're trapped and you feel like you got a you know Everyone is trying to fuck you the frequently dark reality of life within the North Belfast district during the troubles That's what they called the fighting right? dark reality of life within the North Belfast district during the Troubles.

That's what they called the fighting, right? That's how, and again, in America, we'd have like some crazy name for that. If it was that long of fighting and bombings, it would be like, you know, the motherfucking ass tearing rip roar. And it would be like some, it's not like a Chinese buffet name, like super 100% best ever where there they just call it the Troubles. It's not like a Chinese buffet name, like super 100% best ever. Where there they just call it the troubles. It's really a milder people.

The troubles, which just sounds like you had a long period, doesn't it? It sounds like a chick had a long period. Oh, the trouble this month, boy. It's just, it's getting me. It's been like eight days now. Jesus. Yeah. Wish I was in troubles.

I didn't have this goddamn period. So I didn, yeah. I wish I was in trouble so I didn't have this goddamn period. So I didn't have this trouble. I was in trouble, I wouldn't have all this trouble. So during the troubles, prove that belief to be well placed more often than not. So yeah. Basically, the British Army was deployed to this area to calm everybody, which made it worse, obviously, you know, you know how it goes. Yeah

It's like I threw some gasoline on that fire to calm it Thought it would calm it down a little bit. It doesn't didn't work. It's liquid. I mean Holy shit during this initial Holy shit. During this initial bit of fighting here, they said seven were dead, over 750 injured, at least 72 Catholics and 61 Protestants had suffered gunshot wounds, 275 buildings were destroyed, of which 84% were occupied by Catholics. So many of the families decided to flee. 1,505 Catholic families and 315 Protestant families were forced from their homes by, quote, flames or intimidation. Wow.

So this is crazy. Those who, and this is, I mean, there's a lot more than this, but if it was only just Catholicism and Protestantism, you're really splitting hairs. It's not worth fighting over, you know what I mean? Like you could have an argument about a little thing, this and that, and at the end of the day you're like, but Jesus, yeah, you know, and then you high five and then you walk away.

What the fuck are we talking about here? It's the craziest shit I've ever heard. It happens all the time. The Muslims have sex that fight each other, the Shiites, it doesn't make fucking sense to me. I don't get it. You essentially agree on everything. You're doing the same shit together,

and then you're just a bitch about one thing. Well, it's like a recipe. It's like two different recipes, and like one has oregano and one has parsley, and you're gonna fucking kill each other over it, but the other 14 ingredients are all the fucking same. Don't do that. You will kill somebody for putting pineapple on beans.

No shit. I will they don't they deserve all of it all of it doesn't go Muslims get after it doesn't doesn't belong that's something you should be mad about go out into the world with that those who stayed through necessity or defiance hardened their stance and began preparing defenses against future attacks. Overnight the community, an entire community had been politicized and radicalized. Now this happened in August of 69 is when this all started. This leads to the organization of the, at the provision a provisional Irish Republican army so the P IRA Which was the IRA after that? Yeah, so

This is how it all started in 69. He's born in 71 So right. I mean this whole life it doesn't there's no he's born right in the middle of the whole chick here And so it's a mess basically so Iman's father So it's a mess basically. So Eamon's father, Terence, was one of the many local men who got into the whole thing. He was a part of the rebellion here. So as his mother puts it about his dad, she said that her husband simply, quote,

got more involved in the whole thing, which has a lot more to it than that. The book says, quote, got more involved in the whole thing, which has a lot more to it than that. The book says, quote, such euphemistic terminology is common in Northern Ireland when speaking of the Troubles. Real mild. It derives from both a necessary reluctance and a genuine inability to make declarations

of absolute, as if absolute truths. Terence would never have sat his wife and family down and explained to him, explained to them that he was now a high ranking member of the PIRA. Listen guys, this is what's going on. He would never have told them about operations or where he'd be or who he'd be with or what he was doing. For their own safety, the less they knew, the better.

So for the next couple years before he's born, this just becomes a normal thing in Belfast. There's a lot of violence and a lot of clashes and things like that. They said there's barricades springing up all over the city, which doesn't help at all either. They had no-go areas for Brits and other state security forces. They were declared in various parts of Northern Irish capital. So basically you'd get attacked if you were a British person coming there. Not good, essentially, here.

Full-scale riots erupted on a weekly basis. Oh! Yeah, and a tit-for-tat series of shootings and bombings was carried out by the rival paramilitary factions that were gaining a stranglehold in this area. Very chill troubles. It's a lot, yeah. That's the trouble.

Constant rioting, shooting, and bombings. Troubles. Very chill. Oh my god, dude. We have like, We have like, crazy. We have scarier names for like somebody was mad at you, you know what I mean? Or somebody was a little mean to you, you know what I'm saying?

Like what sounds worse, the troubles or the microaggressions? I know micro is small but that still sounds bad. It sounds worse than the troubles, doesn't it? And that's where somebody said something that you don't even fucking know if you if they were actually trying to fuck with you Or not. Yeah This is shoot your fucking grandma in the face out in the street gaslighting sounds more dangerous Oh sounds like that was my first example. I was like now I won't go that but yeah, that was absolutely

The troubles holy shit Fascinating. The troubles. The troubles. Holy shit. So they said the army and police patrolled the narrow streets and vehicles mounted with weaponry more suited to an open battlefield than this, you know, the city here. They said one blast of destruction from a 30 caliber Browning machine gun mounted on top of a shoreland armored personnel carrier was enough to scatter bricks and mortar the

length of and breadth of a street Yeah, these are just shoot at tanks and they're shooting at people and buildings and cars and shit One high-ranking British of Fisher our officer commented that when he first arrived in Belfast and toward the devastation He felt like he had stepped into a second World War battle scene photograph into a second World War battle scene photograph. That's, oof. And they said that CS gas and rubber bullets are now being used for the first time on the UK population. And yeah, and also the British Army's overall commander

in Northern Ireland announced a shoot to kill policy toward youthful petrol bombers, so like Molotov cocktail people, who peppered his men and vehicles at every opportunity. Yeah, because they don't have anything. Toward youthful petrol bombers so like Molotov cocktail people who? Peppered his men and vehicles at every opportunity. Yeah, because they don't have anything. They're like, you know If there's a tank come in the near street and you throw something at it. So at one point in July 1973 thousand homes in the Nationalist Falls area of West Belfast Replaced under 36-hour curfew in which any phone anyone found on the street was

liable to be arrested or worse. Sure. So yeah it was a big deal. They talk about certain a bunch of guys got killed and guys that were like community leaders got killed got shot basically they'd assassinate them they'd come out of a bar and they'd shoot him in the head. So that had a big deal. And according, there was one guy here named Barney Watt who got shot leaving a working men's club. I don't know what that is. I assume there's booze there though. Probably.

If you're working and you're Irish, you're probably drinking back then I would think. So he was a 28 year old who had no connections to the IRA and just was an innocent civilian and had a six-months pregnant wife as well. Oh, no. So like that pissed a lot of people off. Then they shot another guy who had nothing to do

with anybody, another one with a pregnant wife. And so then they went back and forth. So then they shot an officer of the British people. So anyway, all of this, you got Iman's mom, got three kids already, dad in the rebellion essentially. In the trenches, yeah. In the troubles, all knee deep in the troubles. And you gotta try to keep a household still

Three kids and you're pregnant and everything else So that is fucked up. So on she Goes into labor and goes to the hospital and everything like that and apparently they said that they it was hard to like get home from the hospital because of things that were going on and blockages and troubles. So the book says, this was the society waiting to greet Emon with open poisoned bloody arms. Jesus. Wow.

That is descriptive. I like it. That's not bad. His three brothers provided him with a warmer welcome into their already cramped Terrace house on Ballycastle Street. If that's not the most British Isle sounding Ballycastle Street. Sounds like something you'd make up to sound British. But within a fortnight, two weeks, the entire family was fleeing for their lives across the old park road and into

the Ardoin as their neighborhood was ethnically cleansed. What a terrible word. Jesus Christ. This time the short fuse of sectarian violence was lit by Operation Demetrius and the introduction of internment. So Operation Demetrius was a response by the British government to a security situation up here beginning on 4 at 4 30 a.m. on Monday August 9th 1971. Here they basically had a list that was very outdated and inaccurate of 450

Catholic males that they were looking for basically so they swept through the neighborhoods smashing in windows and like you know beating the shit out of people to find these people they found 342 men that they dragged from their houses and took them to makeshift detention areas yeah didn't didn't make everybody real happy. Eventually they got about 2,000 of those guys there and they would beat them and interrogate them and torture them and abuse them and all that kind of shit.

So yeah, and then basically, they were basically, the British soldiers were also like kind of fuck-offs. They got started hanging out. They just stopped kind of doing soldier stuff. It says this is from the book. It later emerged that sons were taken in the absence of a wanted father. So your dad's not here.

I'll just take you. If they were looking for a list as well as anyone with a beard in such a house, it was standard procedure. They're grown up anyone with a beard in such a house. It was standard procedure Fine good enough, let's go the fact that the vast majority of those initially interned had no connection to militant republicanism Whatsoever made this experiment all the more reprehensible The so-called 14 hooded men were singled out for particularly harsh treatment that included five techniques later ruled to be inhuman and degrading by the European Court of Human Rights,

starvation, stress position, sleep deprivation, sensory deprivation, and subject to noise. You know, the CIA playbook, essentially. Yeah, it's a, the CIA throw in waterboarding and we got that So in response Belfast violently imploded in an upsurge of sectarian shootings and bombings. It was just Yeah, you do something. They do something you do something. It's crazy the 17 civilians were killed by the army in the next few days, which is a lot

It's it's a lot, man. It was called the Bally Murphy Massacre. Sounds like it. That sounds extremely British Isles there. An exciting and elegant celebration of Canada's highest distinction in the performing arts, the Governor General's Performing Arts Awards, presented by RBC at the National Arts Center in Ottawa

on June 14th. A truly unforgettable evening featuring seven laureates including legendary music and entertainment producer Bob Ezran and multidisciplinary artist and visionary leader Sandra Laurent from Toronto. Experience exciting red carpet arrivals, special guests and moving tributes. Get your tickets now at nac.ca. Last year, long crime brought you the trial that captivated the nation. She's accused of hitting her boyfriend, Boston police officer John O'Keefe with her car. Karen Reed is arrested and

charged with second degree murder. The six week trial resulted in anything but resolution. We continue to find ourselves at an impasse. I'm declaring a mistrial in this case. But now the case is back in the spotlight. And one question still lingers. Did Karen Reed kill John O'Keefe? The evidence is overwhelming that Karen Reed is innocent. How does it feel to be a cop killer, Karen?

I'm Kristin Thorn, investigative reporter with Law and Crime and host of the podcast, Karen, The retrial. This isn't just a retrial. It's a second chance at the truth. I have nothing to hide. My life is in the balance and it shouldn't be. I just want people to go back to who the victim is in this. It's not her. Listen to episodes of Karen, the retrial, exclusively and ad free on Wondery Plus. So among the dead was father Hugh McMullenullen the first Catholic priest to lose his life in the troubles

Shot by an army on army sniper as he went to the aid of a wounded man classy Classy a medic. Yeah. Yeah real classy. That's nice. Jesus Christ. I don't even think the fucking Nazis did that You know what I mean? That's pretty brutal. That's fucking, wow. The second major flashpoint was the Ardoyne. There the army shot three dead in the opening hours of Operation Demetrius and most of the densely populated area was soon up in flames once again, which is just how you want your

neighborhood. They said where before the Catholic and Protestant families on the fringes of the district had lived side by side in an uneasy truce they now retreated behind the dividing line of Ironically named Alliance Avenue So this is This is fucking crazy. They said such was the rabid hatred in the air Protestant families opened the gas valves and burned almost 200 of their own properties on Velsheeta Park.

Farrington Gardens and Cranbrook Gardens as they abandoned them, lest they fall into Catholic hands. So they'd rather burn them and leave than let the Catholics have them. In the process, 50-year-old mother of nine, Sarah Worthington was shot dead by the British army as she prepared to exit her home through the kitchen door. They said an estimated 7,000 Catholics across the entire city were left homeless by the fires that raged through the night. Internally displaced in their own land, 2,500 of that number fled over the border to south of Ireland and never returned.

So, this is where baby Emon is. My God. Yeah, this is harrowing. This is almost as bad as like Floyd Mayweather's dad holding him while someone pointed a gun at him. Like this is insane. This is crazy. So Isabelle, mom, gathered up the kids and the few things that the family had to seek refuge at her father-in-law's house in Old Arodyne.

While she scrambled to secure a long-term roof over their head, the two middle brothers, Patrick and Noel, were sent to temporarily live with a family in the Irish Republic as part of a relocation program for children in danger from this violence here. Patric and Noel were sent to temporarily live with a family in the Irish Republic as part of a relocation program for children in danger from this violence here. The McGee's were entitled to a council house and Farrandon Gardens, but most of the properties on the street had been ravaged by the fires of the riots. Not long after the final embers were extinguished, Isabel was shown around one and told not to worry that they'd fix this and that up for her.

With baby Emon in her arms, she nodded along, then looked up and realized that she could see the gray sky through the holes in the roof where the fire had cracked and shattered the slates. In the end, she chose to store some furniture there but remained encamped in her father-in-law's place until a more appealing abode came on the market. So a few months later here they found a place. The family ended up spending around a decade in the new place, which you know not great. Terrence, by the way the book puts it this way, Terrence who had always enjoyed a drink from the early years of their

marriage, which I mean in Ireland means that Terrence, who had always enjoyed a drink from the early years of their marriage, which I mean, in Ireland means that Terrence, who drinks four quarts of whiskey a day, a lot, let's see, was now struggling with full blown alcoholism, which in turn fueled the manic depression in which with he had been diagnosed. So with which, sorry, he had been diagnosed so with which sorry he had been diagnosed so he's a fucking bipolar full-blown alcoholic at this point which you don't know what the fuck's gonna walk through the door when he comes home wow yeah he might come home hey kids picking him up hey let's do this we're having ice cream tonight

he might come home shit-faced he might come home just angry and sober you never know my wow hugs or. We're not sure you Imagine if he was in now, this would be fun dad manic state Okay, feeling good. Yeah, and on a happy drunk. Imagine a manic happy drunk. Oh man He well, here we go kids. Come on. We're gonna get down on the let's wrestle He'd be like all fun. The amount of hugs is crazy. Oh man, but you don't want to get that depressive. Yeah bad alcohol Day, oh boy. That's not gonna be fun at all

So they said which in turn fueled the manic depression in the absence of counseling alcoholics anonymous meetings Antidepressant medication or any of the other treatments commonplace today, he endured aggressive electroshock procedures. Whoa. Yeah, that's, stop drinking. What? That's, quit being a drunk. How bad is it?

Wow, well I know they used to do a lot of shocking to deal with depressions and. Yeah, break, bad habits too. Like it's like a, almost like they're shocking the heart to get it back in rhythm. I guess was the Theory, I'm not sure this extreme form of therapy only exacerbated his debilitating condition Yeah, sure, but with a resignation typical of those thankful just to make it through the day alive Mr. And mrs. McGee shouldered the extra burden and focused their energies on surviving.

They're just trying to get through the day. That's crazy. I mean, this is not even a matter of let's get ourselves feeling good or let's, you know, let's feel fulfilled. Let's survive today. It's fucking crazy. For Isabelle, that meant scraping together enough money to put a school uniform on her boys backs and a little nourishment in their stomachs

For Terrence and his comrades and the provost it meant arming themselves However, they could and taking to the street to repel whatever enemy forces attempted to enter Ardoin, holy shit. So late 1971 here in October more Every time somebody gets killed because they'll talk about these different on this day This guy was killed and then that caused some violence and then this then they killed another guy and then that caused this and that So they're all of these It's like a snowball. It's just a big snowball picking up like rocks and and like a little house with a

You know a Yeti's the little eggs are sticking out, it got taken out. The big snowball here. So they said that as the level of unrest on the street intensified after a bunch of these shootings, so the McGee family saw less and less of their father and husband. In another classic Belfast euphemism, Isabelle describes Terrence as being quote,

out and about a lot in those years. Yeah. Just out and about. There were secret safe houses dotted all over the Catholic ghettos to which men defending their patch could retire when tiredness conquered them. So a little like mob safe houses basically. Yeah.

Or hitting the mattresses type of deal. So they said one of the fundamental reasons for such an arrangement was to protect their own families at home, a doomed effort to keep loved ones out of the war. So yeah, you don't wanna be, people are gonna be shooting at you, you don't wanna be standing next to your kids essentially. It proved futile because the Brits continued

to storm into houses at ungodly hours, regardless of whether they had intelligence to say their target was there or not. So they also said that as the McGee and the McGee household was particularly popular hunting ground for young squatties who would squad, not squat, who would kick in the door and barge their way into the front room and up the stairs in a volatile state of nerves mixed with adrenaline, fear and power. So they said, Eman remembers the ordeals vividly.

He recalls the front and back doors being booted through by army patrols so many times that clocks could have been set by the unwelcome arrivals. Once inside the home, the destruction became almost routine as well. The fireplace was ripped out, floorboards torn up floorboards Why this isn't like yeah? This isn't just like tossing the furniture and like you know empty in your cereal boxes looking for something This is tearing the fucking structure. Yeah, we can do the drywall This yeah, this is between the two break the plaster apart and see what's going on here. Holy shit. That's crazy

Floorboards torn up and pneumatic jackhammers jolted violently across the kitchen floor drilling out chunks of concrete in Frantic but forlorn search for guns bombs and bullets. Yeah, keep it in the concrete. Sorry. Keep my guns like this normal place That way they're safe, you know, no one can get to them. Upstairs, clothes were strewn across bedroom floors as wooden drawers splintered and shattered against the walls. The damage was terrible and often irrecoverable, but it is much more intrusive memories that still linger.

Iman shared a bedroom with his three brothers. They said that it was basically a space. They had space for two single beds and nothing else. So they had to sleep two to a bed. Yeah. Two to a twin bed, basically. Two to a single. Yep. Head to toe, you know, do it that way.

Yeah. You don't want to be pole to pole. Well, you know, that's what I mean. You want to keep your dicks separate there. I, you know, that's that's I mean, I keep your dick separate there I hard they said I find it the book said I find it hard to believe but all four have sworn to me Independently that there was never any discord within the bounds of those close quarters At least not when the four McGee boys were left alone and in peace So yeah So here's a memory wake up barked a harsh English accent as a rifle

But nudged Iman's leg and roused him from a deep slumber. He's a toddler He rubbed his eyes against the sleep and struggled to make sense of the scene in his bedroom Looming over him was a tall British soldier armed and ready for war Downstairs all of you now see it's I I mean. American boxers never have this experience. They just don't. Following his elder sibling's lead, he silently rows and traips down the stairs at the end of a single file, the pre-dawn cold biting at his bare feet and quickly penetrating the skin beneath his cheap, thin pajamas.

Stand there, stand in line, continued the military orders. Jesus Christ. Another soldier went along the line, taking a photograph of each of the four startled children as the rest of the patrol continued to ransack the house. Yeah, they said it must have been a frightening and surreal experience for four young brothers and their mother. And the thought of that unwanted photographer still causes Isabel to tilt her head and stare at me with a kind of sad bemusement when we discuss it.

The memory almost appears to daze her as she half rhetorically looks to me for answers. What were they doing? She whispers. Why did foreign soldiers feel it necessary to wake my children in the middle of the night, march them downstairs, line them up and take their photographs. Why did they do it over and over again? Finally, she breaks into a melancholy smile and almost wistfully wonders where all those photographs are now. Where are they? Where are all those pictures? I'd like to see them. They are pictures of my boys. I mean, you know, I don't know if they had an Olin Mills or whatever the fuck back then to go

do your thing. So the recollections of British army harassment flow thick and fast from the mouths of all who lived in the Ardoin at this time. Listening to these stories, it seems that in addition to the deep-seated bitterness that was sown, the familiarity of the raids and the constant invasions into private homes, it's also true that many have the gift common amongst the Northern Irish of that generation of finding humor.

And this is why, you know what I'm saying? This is from shit. You can either just sink or you can start making jokes about it. And that's why, why are comedians damaged people? Because- It's the only thing that keeps you from crying. That's why, why are comedians damaged people? Because... It's the only thing that keeps you from crying. That's it, yeah.

Some people cry and some people figure out a joke and that's that. I mean, whatever works for you. Some people die about it and some people try to kill about it. That's it, man. So the generation of finding humor, albeit 40 years later in scenarios that at the time were anything but funny.

As much for my benefit as her own, Isabel uses that talent to manage the general tone of our conversation and intersperse or festoon a series of dark and depressing tales with lighter anecdotes that serve to brighten the mood somewhat. That's depressing. One such example involved taking advantage

of a particularly green squaddy, most likely fresh off the boat and without the faintest understanding of the political realities on the ground. It was during one of the regular British Army raids on her home when Mrs. McGee was left alone in her living room with the youthful private as his comrades aggressively scoured the upstairs bedrooms. A young IRA member had recently been killed while on active service and Terrence had left a plastic bag containing the volunteer's gloves, beret,

and Irish flag sitting on the sideboard in preparation for the funeral. The soldier, no more than a teenager himself, poked the end of his rifle into the bag to take a look and clearly none the wiser asked Isabelle for an explanation. As usual, her strength somehow overcame her nerves and she told the English visitor asked Isabel for an explanation. As usual, her strength somehow overcame her nerves and she told the English visitor that it was just an Irish tricolor like everyone uses for Easter celebrations. This is just for Easter. Despite it being mid-October and the fact that the black gloves and a beret were clearly not a traditional part of an Easter narrative anywhere in the world. Her explanation was accepted and the squadron departed empty handed.

So yeah, dumb people. She thought that was funny. Yeah. Um, around Christmas, 1973, a group of young local men with guns strolled in through the unlocked door and started up the stairs. Isabel recognized most of them and in a panic threatened to tell on them as if she was back in the schoolyard and an unruly classmate was stealing her pencil case or pulling her hair. It was an entirely empty threat but the intruders plied her with cigarettes in an effort to

shut her up nonetheless. We'll leave and give you cigarettes. Just don't say anything. Isabelle acquiesced and soon the gang was gone. After she learned that they intended to use the skylight in her attic for a sniper attack on a British military patrol as it passed through the end of the road, but the vantage point turned out to be inadequate for their murderous requirements. As she sat on her sofa nursing Iman in her lap, distractedly gazing at the sparsely decorated

Christmas tree and vigorously sucking on a cigarette to calm her nerves, distractedly gazing at the sparsely decorated Christmas tree and vigorously sucking on a cigarette to calm her nerves. That's nice. You want to be smoking while breastfeeding. That way the kid gets the full cigarette. Go right in his mouth. That way he gets all the nicotine. Because otherwise, you know, kids are grumpy when they don't have their nicotine.

A lot of shaking, yeah. Yeah, they're grumpy. Anyway, here are the terrible twos. Get a Nick Fit in there. You really got something. Yeah. That's bad. Yeah, they're grumpy anyway. Here are the terrible twos. Get a Nick fit in there, you really got something. That's bad. So as she's doing that, her brother Tommy came into the house

and immediately froze on the spot. His eye was fixed on a rifle left propped against the wall behind an armchair. As Isabelle's pulse rocketed once again, the two siblings quickly concocted a plan to dispose of the weapon. Pushing the dog out the front door, Tommy followed it as if in pursuit

and surreptitiously stuffed the rifle into the neighbor's overgrown hedges before swiftly grabbing the bewildered mutton retreating to the house. Act like the dog got outside. Yeah, the next day the IRA came knocking again, sheepishly asking if anyone had seen a missing rifle. This time Isabel didn't even let them back across the threshold and after divulging what

she had done with the weapon slammed the door shut in their faces. So she said she doesn't know if they ever got the gun or not but not my fucking problem. So about dad here, Terrence. The author here says the first question I ever asked Eman on tape dealt with his earliest memories of his father Said quote now you've asked a very good serious question there He began as he continued rolling a cigarette and took another beer from his kitchen fridge My first memories of seeing my father and I mean this over I mean this over my son's deathbed God rest him. he's just dead was

going up whoa okay as I guess his kid just died uh-huh I mean this over my son's deathbed God rest him he's just dead was going up was go his first memories of seeing his father was going up that's that's essentially what he's saying at this point he turned his right shoulder up and away from me and lowered his chin much as he did in the ring to deflect an opponent's left hook hurtling toward his jaw and exhale deeply. It took me a few seconds to realize he had broken down. His shoulders shuddered as he cried violently.

I sat in silence listening to him, struggling to regain control of his breathing before I Apologized for starting the process on such a sensitive topic. Yeah, you want to get some build some rapport You got the guy sobbing on question one shit Don't be silly He spat with renewed focus wiping the tears away and starting again my first memory was going up to the crumlin road to get a bus that was run by volunteers because people couldn't afford to take the bus to go all the way up to the Keshe. And that was my first experience of meeting my father.

He gets halfway through the word before breaking down again. That's what always sticks in my mind." That's what he says, quote, he finally manages to mumble after another torturous prolonged pause. The free minibus run by the local citizen defense committee left from the back of the old foreign picture house where the crumlin star club now sits. It was always crowded. Each family was designated two days per week and for half hour visits, one for wives and wives only and the other for children as well. So you got to get your, you know, got to have some conjugal visits and then the site of Long cashes 15 miles southwest of Belfast,

about a half hour drive. But to those who made it to the twice weekly trip, it seemed so much further. Three year old Emon was already forging a reputation as a hell raiser. And other women in the district would sometimes inquire as to whether he was booked on that week because if so they wouldn't be setting foot on the bus. So these are guys women are going to see their husbands at you know whatever safe houses they're in and all that kind of shit and they're like I'll wait till tomorrow I don't want to deal with that three-year-old for a half hour literally a half hour I don't want him even to be in the same vehicle with him that's wow he must have been a fucking pain in the ass So yeah, he'd be in and out of handbags

Clambering over everyone pushing and pulling and whoever got in his way and kids twice his age were already wary of his small swinging fists It's like three years old already throwing down already fighting. Yeah It's like three years old already throwing down already fighting. He's already drinks about a you know about a about a fifth of fucking bourbon a day too. So he's he's not playing. He's coming along this kid. He's nice coming along. So he said he'd be doing all that as much as they wanted to see their interned loved one an hour round trip with we Eman McGee was apparently not worth the hassle.

Wow. It is another funny aside, but the truth is that visits to Long Cache were genuinely harrowing experiences for the relatives of internees. Visitor permits would be checked in the car before a wait that could often last longer than an hour in a freezing wooden hut with only a cup of tea provided by the Quakers to stop the blood from running totally cold. Quakers give you tea there? Not oatmeal?

Do they give anything ever? Is that a common thing? Oatmeal, I thought. That's it. I don't even know if it's the actual Quakers or if it's just Wilford Brimley pushing it down my throat all the time when I was a kid. I don't even know if it's the actual Quakers or if it's just Wilford Brimley pushing it down my throat All the time when I was a kid. I'm not sure So one by one names were eventually called and families boarded another bus for the short drive into the inside the camp

There a thorough search of each visitor was conducted by prison officers before another wait and another crowded straw stinking hut Finally they were allowed through the wire and into one of the 16 visiting booths where internees waited eagerly on one side of a desk. Throughout the 30 minutes of strained conversation, prison guards patrolled up and down between the guests. Iman remembers the excitement of smuggling contraband into his father on each visit.

Little pieces of fruit concealed about his person or tiny letters Meticulously written in minuscule hand on both sides of a cigarette paper folded up encased in cling film and hidden under his tongue He's smuggling shit. They're stick. Yeah, they're having the three-year-old smuggle shit here stick it under your tongue kid. Don't talk Cat got your tongue. Yes. That's what happened. I dig. Yeah So he said we're always smuggling something in even just for the for the Crake what the CRA IC? I don't know what the fuck that was I guess maybe for the shit of it because he said I'd have done it just for the buzz Okay, but it is evident that he still finds it difficult to talk about this time and what

are basically his first memories of life. There's a bitterness inside Eamonn that has increasingly curt responses to my gentle probing do little to mask. When I ask if he knows the exact reason for his father's arrest on the occasion he was interned, he replies that his old man was simply perceived as a threat to the British state and that that was all the justification they needed. He said the British army picked up anyone in those days. Those were the orders from their prime minister and they're still doing it to this day.

When I try to ascertain how long Terence spent inside Longkesh, Eamon's response is short and not so sweet. A long time, he almost whispered. When you're interned, you're interned until the queen allows you out. Wow. So they talk about how this will fuck your kid up basically, as plenty of our crime and sports people have incarcerated fathers and that's how they started this whole thing. And we've talked about this plenty here, that this is a big deal. Also there's like money too, there's no money in the family now so they have to struggle

with that. They said what made everything even worse for Eman was that his father wasn't incarcerated in the normal sense of the term, rather he was interned. There's no arrest, trial and sentencing. He was simply picked up one morning and locked away. He was not in one of the standard prisons. He was in a disused Royal Air Force base that had recently been converted

into a rudimentary detention center modeled on a prisoner of war camp. There's no right to appeal, nor even a release date to look forward to. Just no due process, no nothing thrown away. Nothing, just put them in. Yeah, that's been sounding crazy for a long time. His imprisonment was indisputable and indefinite.

This was the lot of a 1970s internee in Long Cache. Terrence and the rest of the men were caged like animals and set 10 separate enclosures, each one 70 paces long by 30 paces wide. That's fucking huge. Yeah. That's a big, that's like an airplane hanger.

Oh shit. That's not bad. Jesus. Within each cage sat a washroom and four Nissan huts, the prefabricated half cylindrical corrugated steel structures designed for the British army in the first world war. That's nice. Yeah. Live like an army private 60 years ago, everybody. Wow. designed for the British Army in the First World War. My god. That's nice. Yeah, live like an army private 60 years ago everybody.

Wow, one of the huts acted as a canteen serving inadequate sustenance while the internees slept the remaining three. In the remaining three. The huts measured just 40 meters by eight and at least 40 full grown men were crammed into each. So it's like Rikers basically. Oh shit. Yeah, they just stick you in a big fucking room lying on bunk beds that covered every At least 40 full-grown men were crammed into each so it's like Rikers basically Yeah, they just stick you in a big fucking room lying on bunk beds that covered every square inch of the floor

The flimsy roofs did litter little to shelter the occupants from the worst elements and together they huddled fully clothed and shivering Under paltry bedclothes as the cold rain dripped and biting wind whistled all around them Wow At least we get prisoners' walls in America. Yeah. You know, one small electric heater placed out of reach of the inside of the rear gable wall provided more of a sick joke than a provider of warmth. One or two in its immediate vicinity may have partially bathed an arm in comforting convection current, but the sight of it merely taunted the vast majority who lay beyond its pitiful range. Rats soon appeared, as did an outbreak of scabies.

Migraines and severe attacks of depression were also common. Also too, all these guys are coming off fucking alcohol withdrawal here. They probably have them got the DTs when they get there. These guys are like hard drinking IRA in the street guys. Yeah, they're fighting for Christ's sake. Yeah, it was a squalid and grim existence made all the worse by the mental anguish the men suffered

being locked up indefinitely without due legal process. Inevitably some broke and were carted off to Halliwell Psychiatric Hospital in nearby Antrim, their minds unable to take the torture any longer. Meanwhile on the outside, the families left to fend without a patriarch struggled as best they could, often requiring financial aid from the Catholic Church just to put meager food on the table. Jesus Christ, I guess so. Eamonn started Holy Cross Primary School around 75, 76 here, and proved himself bright enough when he bothered to apply himself to the classwork. Isabelle began waitressing in the bar of the local Crumlin Star Social Club, so in the evenings, Emon

would wander over to where they were still rebuilding the houses destroyed in the riots and sit chatting for hours with the night watchman Terry Diamond. If he found it difficult to dedicate himself to schoolwork, he had no problem absorbing information on the construction trade and would later lecture his mother on exactly how many bricks it took to make a wall and how long the entire house required for completion. Terry also gave young Iman his first driving lesson lurching about conspicuously on top of a JCB digger when he's six. So like any mother, Isabelle encouraged her children to reach their academic potential, but her biggest concern was with keeping the four off the street and away from the barricades and the rioting that erupted on a nearly nightly

basis. Yeah. Yeah, you want to generally keep your kids out of the riots when they're little, you know. Terry, Noel, and Patrick distanced themselves naturally from the worst of it, but baby brother was different. Iman, a magnet for tragedy. Even from his earliest years, it was clear that he was inexplicably drawn to danger and violence. He was just wired a little differently. And they're boxers too. So it's not like these guys are sitting reading going, what's he doing out there?

We're going to be professors. They're all crazy Anybody who's a boxer is crazy. So they're all insane, but he's way more insane What the others found frightening and shocking Iman believed to be fun and exhilarating Whoa, he's attracted to it. It's not that he loves it brings it towards him. It's it. No, he loves chaos. Is it out? Yeah, he loves it to him. That's fun. He longed to be a part of it. Isabel tried to entertain him Indoors as much as possible, but it proved impossible and thankless task at this stage Terry and Noel who'd attended Sacred Heart primary on the other side of Old Park Road had been boxing in their school's amateur club for two or three years, and Patrick, aged eight at the time, was due to join them for the

thrice-weekly evening training sessions. That's a lot. For a school thing. In desperation, Isabel pushed five-year-old Iman out the door with him. Here, burn some energy. Go out there and hit things. Though he was technically still a couple years too young to be regularly attending a boxing club. It was simply a means of keeping him off the streets and out of trouble for

a few hours. In that objective, it was to fail miserably, but it did prove that to be the beginning of a relationship between Iman McGee and the sweet science and that's how he got got in it. So yeah, basically he wasn't interested in boxing. He just got thrown in the gym because he's too hyperactive for whatever the fuck else is going on. Iman said, quote, I went to Holy Cross as a young kid, says McGee as he drinks a pint of ice cider. Growing up in the Erdoin, you become used to the violence. It was a normal part of life.

You're young and in a funny way you enjoyed it It was it was a crack the kids who couldn't take it would have been out on the street wouldn't have been out on the street That's how hard it was So he joined a local gang at the age of six Six go yeah So there has to be older kids because six-year-olds don't have the wherewithal to organize themselves in a gang They don't understand hierarchies or any of that shit. They're sex now Wow just about negotiating his way through an initiation ceremony that included running past the crosshairs of homemade rubber ring guns

Which made a stinging impression on any bare skin that became their target Soon after our Sunni had an earlobe scarred by a back, wow, a back street piercing. Never heard of that before. It's like a back alley in the States, back street. Involving a red hot needle and in similar circumstances, a few years later, he inked the initials E and M into his left forearm.

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to grab the bumper of a passing car. When judged correctly, the result was a free and potentially lethal sleigh ride. You know how you'd be on a skateboard and grab a car for a sec? He did this shit with a sled He just wait for a car grab its curb and have be dragged behind it on a sled in the snow or just when it's dry out No, no, no when it's sludgy snowy shit. They're saying when it's like ice on the ground. Yeah Wow Potentially lethal sleigh ride until grip was lost or an irate driver slowed and made to deliver a swift and Samaritan summary punishment

upon the unwanted freeloader When isabel found out she marched her baby boy down Brompton Park onto crumlin road and into the holy cross church so he could explain himself to the parish priest in an impromptu confession come disciplinary hearing oh boy oh My god in an impromptu confession come disciplinary hearing. Oh boy. Oh my god. This is what I've done. Beat me for this. This is what I've done and then they came back

and he's just molested. He wasn't punished at all. He just. Make me suck your dick. Dittled. Yeah. Eamonn had developed an eerily natural aversion to authority figures in whatever guise they took.

But back then he was still young enough to remain a little wary of the mystic powers of the Irish Catholic clergy. As such, a slightly cowed version of the young terror stood before the local Padre, his dirty clothes soaked through from a partially energetic session of car hopping. What have you been doing, Eamon? The priest said, began in a gentle neutral tone. I was hopping cars, father, was the matter of fact response. Hopping cars? I don't know the slang you guys use. He said, I, you wait until ones going the right speed, then you grab the back and slide

along behind it down the street. You know, hopping cars. You know, fun. Yeah. I was expecting the priest to be like, that doesn't. You know, fun. Yeah. I was expecting the priest to be like, that doesn't sound half bad, honestly. That sounds pretty... Let's go. Let's go.

The priest said, why would you do that, son? Can you not see how dangerous that is? And the kid just shrugged. Iman shrugged and they said, what about your mother? Worried sick about you. And he shrugged. Yeah. And they said, look at your lovely duffle coat, Emon.

Your gloves as well. Absolutely soaked and filthy. Emon glanced down at the incriminating evidence but still offered no verbal response to his mild-mannered interrogator. The priest misread the silence as the contrition and acquiescence he was subtly digging for and continued his monologue in the same vein, albeit with renewed vigor. Your poor mother, Eman, she just wants the best for you. She works so hard to look after you.

She gives you a roof over her, over your head. She buys you all these clothes to keep you warm. She makes you dinner every evening. So the fuck what? Well, that's the thing. He said a mistake, a factual error and just the inch a kid like Iman needs to take that mile. He was waiting for something.

He's like a person in an interrogation room going, oh, you found my fingerprints on it, knowing that he wore gloves the whole time and going, oh, you lying motherfucker. Okay. Good for you. Yep. I get my dinner in school, he interrupted in defiance, convinced now that this holy old goat didn't know what he was talking about Iman wasn't allowed about to let this ignorant priest priest start bossing him around even back

then Iman adhered to a particularly zealous interpretation of the thou shalt suffer no fools ideology he was soon back out hopping cars and just as quick, Isabel was frog marching him home, administering her feared and abrasive knuckle shuffle onto her boy's scalp. We use that term differently in America. That's not a punch in America. That would be a whole other form of trauma for the boy. If his mom was knuckle shuffling him here, that would be bad. It's not good. Not good.

As they walked, insolently unperturbed, Eamon simply grinned up at his exasperated mother with a smile, dripping with provocation. Are you not going to take me back to see that priest again? He inquired with mock innocence. You can't hurt me. Oh man. So Terrence here apparently ended up out of internment

at some point. Because they're talking about Sunday afternoon in 1977. So they say Terrence liked to dress smart on a Sunday. He polished his shoes, ironed his shirt, and put on his suit and tie before meeting some friends for an afternoon drink at the Shamrock Social Club on Ardoin Avenue. As he sucked his pint, Isabel prepared a late lunch in the house while outside on the street his four boys and their teammates from Holmdean Gardens F.C. enjoyed a mass kickabout

playing some soccer and warmed up for the next big Ardoyne Derby. Suddenly, heard before seen, two Saracen armored personnel carriers rounded the corner at Etna Drive and steamed toward the McGee house. The footballers moved to the side, pressing their backs against the walls and hedges as one of the six wheeled beasts mounted the footpath while the other simply cuts its engine in the middle of the road. The Browning.30 caliber machine guns mounted on the turrets thrusting out ominously at the wary kids.

After a brief pause, the rear doors of one Saracen were flung open and the Army patrol inside spilled out onto the tarmac and up the narrow path onto Iman's home. Immediately, Noel, a fine long-distance runner, set off to fetch his dad. Iman stood on the spot against a neighbor's low wall, mulling the situation over. Fuck it, he said to himself and sprinted over toward the empty Saracen that had just delivered a batch of hostile foreign soldiers to his family's front door. In one fluid movement, he bounced inside, stepped into the low-lying side bench and propelled himself up and through the turret, opening toward the blue sky's overhead.

He took control of the machine gun. Here we go. Holy shit. Now we're talking. At six years of age, he was too young to fight the Brits with his fists or shoot them with the IRA's guns, so this was his contribution to the war. At the sight of his red hair and pale cheeky face emerging onto the roof of the enemy vehicle, the other kids erupted in defiant roars of laughter.

As a soldier exited the front passenger door and made to grab the unwanted hitchhiker by the feet and drag him back to earth, the boys began joyously kicking their footballs with all the might they could against the side of the resting Saracens and into the belly of the beast that left its doors open. By the time Noel returned with his father, a breathless calm had briefly descended on the scene outside. Apart from their boxing gloves, the boys' football was their most prized possession and British soldiers now had it in their possession, the footballs of every family on Holmden Gardens. His blood boiling with rage and alcohol didn't know the full story. Terrence is pissed. He's pissed.

Watch out. Seeing a patrol of six young squaddies crammed into the back of their Saracen, passing his children's football to each other with provocative glee, was more than he could take. Give it back, he demanded before anticipating the negative response. He piled in himself, one fist clenched and swinging wildly at bodies and the other open wide and grabbing desperately at the ball. Again the kids roared in jubilation, but as the blows of the soldiers quickly overpowered Mr. McGee, their buoyancy soon sank.

With his suit ripped and torn, he was kicked from the vehicle onto the road before being trailed into his own home for the beating to continue on his living room floor in front of his wife. That's nice. Outside, the other children, unsure how to react to such broad daylight brutality, slowly moved uneasily away. The four McGee boys were left standing on their own, looking toward their front door, the emotions of fear, hatred, and despair fighting one another for prominence. Not long after that, Terrence was once again removed from his family. This time the exile was further afield than the Keshe and his old friends in the IRA,

rather the forces of the Crown were to blame. In addition to their role as defenders of the district against the invasion of foreign soldiers and loyalist paramilitaries, the provost soon assumed responsibility for policing their own people. Almost a decade of the troubles had undermined the old value system and caused law and order to gradually break down in many of the working class ghettos of the city. Added to the fact that the R.U.C. were unable or unwilling to enter many Catholic areas, there was an undeniable policing vacuum in the pockets of the North and West Belfast.

So, yeah, the streets turned to chaos. Seizing an opportunity to cement their authority within the nationalist community, the IRA decided to fill the hole and formed its administrative branch in the 1970s in 1977 to deal with crime from the petty to the deadly. However, they saw fit. It was the beginning of the organized punishment beating. Okay, so the era of that. Terrance's offense was bouncing a check, he wrote, for a couple of thousand pounds,

a misdemeanor that would have struggled to raise an eyebrow within the traditional justice system. Yet, despite the relative levity of his infraction, he was given a straight choice. One-way ticket out of the country or a low-velocity bullet to the knee. What? Yeah. Are those options? Those are your options. Kneecap you. Yeah. Wow. Terrence wisely took the boat to England you know I'll just leave then holy fucking shit man that is crazy Wow so yeah dad's gone now so wow instead of a bullet to the knee he lives

holy shit so all right back to into boxing a little bit he had an amateur trainer his first and only he said so one guy all the way through Patsy McKenna There he was sounds like the most Irish man who's ever lived They said that this guy saw the potential as soon as he saw Eman Patsy an old friend of the boy's father is a small statured feisty man in his 70s Still apparently fit and ready for any argument that may come his way. He stays physically tense through conversations and has a tendency to shout random words of

his speech, an intetational trait that hints that life lived never too far from confrontation. Just every once in a while a word will be loud. From time to time, yeah. Yeah, yeah, just, whoa, hey, what the fuck. More than anything, he is fiercely proud of where he comes from and his chest swells visibly when discussing Eamonn and the steady stream of quality amateur boxers his small district has produced through the years. Patsy's club was once one of the the most successful in the country often sending six or seven fighters to the all Ireland

Championships with each coming home with a medal and the McGee's were a huge part of that because his brothers are in this too Money problems, unfortunately mean the Sacred Hearts Sacred Heart Club is not in currently in operation But the McKenna is a boxing fiend and he'll never quit on the sport. Today he goes five nights a week to the nearby Holy Cross gym to train the latest batch of North Belfast youngsters dreaming of becoming world champions. Patsy remembers the little red haired McGee following his big brothers into the gym as a wiry five-year-old and immediately displaying skills well beyond the norm. A perfect storm of nature and nurture had forged a kid with innate boxing

ability coupled with a fire in his heart that left him totally bereft of fear. He doesn't get anybody who'll jump in a million and like try to steal a machine gun and be like that. He doesn't give a fuck. Bad man. He doesn't care. Yeah, on top of that we Emon simply love to fight. He and a pal Hugo Wilkinson would give each other free bare knuckle digs to the stomach until someone quit. We used to do that when I was a kid too. But being punched? Oh yeah, yeah we would do that. Really? fuck yeah. That was like a, everything but the face basically. You'd have like contests. I don't know where, kids are crazy where I grew up.

Yeah, I guess so. The crazy little Italian, Italian kids, Irish kids, fucking whatever, they're nuts. So, but yeah, that's what they would do. Contests that would often end in a draw after an hour's worth of punishment to the midsection. Jesus, that usually didn't happen here. In the house, usually get one or two shots and someone's like, okay, okay, you punch harder, nevermind, whoever it was that person was. In the house, he would beg Terry and Noel to drop to their knees and box him like they meant it, because they were

taller than him. He'd be like, just get down here and punch me. And by the time he was seven he could throw every combination in the book. The elder boys naturally held back a little, but if Iman's unrestrained ardor ever did cause the phony wars to spill into a genuine argument, the youngest would always insist on having the final word, or more likely delivering the concluding punch. His brothers were tough lads themselves, but Eman was something else. The unfettered passion for physical conflict served him well as he began learning his trade in the breathless frenzied flurries of leather that a couple of pint sized juveniles serve up as a round in the boxing gym. Wow.

He stood out from the other youngsters so much that the senior coach, the senior coach, Iman Maguire, I thought it was him, I thought I was reading something wrong, but it's just another guy named Iman. Of course. Okay. Couldn't help, and he's Maguire, not McGee, so first three letters are the same too.

Some quotes, yeah. That fucked my brain all up. I was, Iman, McGee, how is his coach himself? How does that happen? Couldn't help but notice his performances each evening. After a couple weeks, McGuire whispered to Patsy, that youngest McGee lad has something about him. He's going to be very special. Eman overheard and walked home that night a couple inches taller. When Eman and his brothers weren't in the gym, they were quick to turn their hands to whatever other sport or athletic endeavor was available.

Often they'd be found proudly representing Holmden Gardens in the highly organized and competitive games of street football that ran all year round within these places. Only when the darkness became pitch black did the players reluctantly accept full time and heed their mother's increasingly threatening calls to come inside." Wow, interesting. So they said, just as quickly as the daylight would dissipate, a heavy air of discontent would emerge and fog the night sky. Instinctively, the boys all sensed it, the foreboding aura of a brief calm before an intense and violent storm. The vast majority, Terry, Noel, and Patrick among them, turned their backs and walked away from the promise of trouble.

You know, riots can break out, crazy shit can happen. But Emon could never quite resist the dangerous allure. He'd seek out the like-minded minority, intent on getting as close to the action as possible. As the rumbling engines of the Saracens drew closer, the smell of petrol filling glass bottles spread throughout the district. His brother or mother, his brothers or mother would have to physically trail him back home

by the scruff of his neck. As tanks and Molotov cocktails would start flying around here. So anyway, as this is going, a couple years later, Isabel is hanging some laundry on a neighbor's clothesline with four rambunctious boys and herself to close. There just wasn't the space to get everything dry in her own small abode. As she sorted through the wet boxing gear, the neighbor came out to reveal that the IRA had been asking about her.

It was nothing to worry about, apparently, they just wanted a word. The following week, when she arrived again with a fresh load of clean but damp clothes, the neighbor invited her inside for a cup of tea. There, sat at the kitchen table, a local high-ranking IRA man was waiting for her. How are you doing, Mrs. McGee? He asked. Not bad. She replied.

We're surviving. They said the Irish are known to be great talkers, but militant Republican operatives prefer just to get straight to the point, as far as business is concerned. Would you want to have Terrence back Mrs. McGee? Do you like your husband back or not? Do you want this man? Anything? Do you take this man?

I would, yes, she blurted out. Oh that's nice. Of course I would. He's my husband and the father of my children. I'd like him back with his family. All he did was bounce a wee check. He never hurt anybody. Okay Mrs. McGee, leave it with me.

A few days later, the same man appeared at the McGee's back door. Isabelle's heart skipped two beats this time. The IRA has granted permission for Terrence to return to Ardoin. Mrs. McGee, he announced once inside the kitchen, you have my word that your husband will not be harmed by anyone from the organization upon his return.

So she's psyched. They said she barely managed to whisper out a thank you and closed the door behind him and was very excited here. From the shadows of the adjoining coal cove, Terence emerged to join her. He popped out, it was a surprise to her. It turned out that the nine months of English life, an Irish sea away from his home and family was all Terrence could take

One night under the cover of darkness. He snuck back into Holmdean Gardens for the next 18 months He did not leave that small cramped two up two down terraced house The attic a drafty hollow space was like a fucking Irish Anne Frank over here With a pitched roof whose apex sat well below head height became his entire world. Only his wife and sons knew the situation. A time that was perhaps the absolute lowest point the family reached.

It was worse than Terrance's period of internment because this way it was as if they were all imprisoned. All of us now. Auradoin people are famous for their habit even today of leaving the front and rear doors of their homes unlocked for family and friends to enter with little more than a notifying rap as they crossed the threshold.

Neighbors came and went throughout the day, borrowing, lending, or simply stopping by for a chat. In a community that's that tight knit, there's an openness that only exists when everyone's in the same boat, when they're all committed to the same cause. But suddenly, the McGee's had their doors locked. Right. Curtains always drawn. The boys' friends were no longer able to just come by and play and shit like that.

But for Isabelle's mother herself, totally unaware of her son-in-law's presence, a few feet above her head. totally unaware of her son-in-law's presence a few feet above her head. So his mom lived there, right under him, she didn't even know. There were soon barely any visitors at all. The boys dreaded the weekend when their dad would descend with a few more beers in him than usual. The alcohol drew out his belligerent side and the family were all terrified he would try to go outside, an action that would almost certainly cost him his life. It was like, Jesus, dad's going to get drunk and try to go outside.

Holy shit. It was a life that had taken a very heavy toll on Terrence McGee, the alcoholism and depression, being chased out of his home by murderous sectarian mobs, internment and exile. They all chipped away at his psyche to ensure that mentally and psychologically he was not a well man when he entered that attic. He wasn't well before He was a fucking manic depressive alcoholic before this all started for Christ's sake By the time he walked free from it 18 months later. It was as if he had finally been irrevocably broken Yeah, 18 months in a fucking attic like that will break your brain even if it was fine

before. But, I mean, Jesus Christ. So it's all about booze there, man. They said there's no universal or accepted response to witnessing your alcoholic and depressed father interned in a cage, physically assaulted by foreign soldiers while his house is ransacked by their cohorts, exiled by comrades he would recently have died for, or living like a secret hermit in the family attic. Wow.

None of that really. How do you deal with that? Yeah. Amongst young and impressionable minds in particular, it's impossible to predict the impact of such traumas. Certainly there was no uniform reaction from Iman and his brothers, although three of the clan developed relatively similar personalities and character traits that contrasted sharply with the fourth.

Who do you think the fourth is? It's Iman. Considering we don't have an episode about the first three, it's probably Iman. The three oldest boys made a conscious decision to avoid the life that may eventually lead to their father's fate. But by his late teens, Patrick had moved out of the Ardoin, found a secure job, was married and had the first of three children to care for. Oh! Yeah. Terry moved even further afield and settled in Wales at the age of 16. So all the way down there in England. A rare, or Britain I should say,

a rare Irishman abroad who never again took a drink or smoked a cigarette. Is that right? That is rare, yeah. Even here, that's rare, so that's something. Noel knuckled down to working and training in Belfast. Later, stroke on Trent in England. Stroke on Trent.

Don't do that that that's worse than fucking knuckle shuffling your son that's horrible Jesus Christ everything over there sound like masturbation guys what's going on on Trent your play a stroke on him not even wrote rub stroke there's no euphemism not even a euphemism. Just stroke it, man. This is exactly what it is. Wow. And finally found a comfortable suburban life with his wife and two children in the coastal town of Newcastle, 30 miles south of the violent capital.

It was only Eamonn who found it difficult to follow, or difficult not to follow in his father's footsteps. His mother thinks he was 12 when he first had a drink, but Eamonn admits he was more like nine. Oh. Hit it for a few years. As if that makes it any worse or better. That's what I mean, 12, nine, it's all bad.

Who cares as shit, yeah. If we're drinking for results. If you're not, you know, in some parts of Europe, they give a nine-year-old a glass of wine to sip with dinner or something. They're not drinking to be like, let's get hammered, you know. This is a different type of drinking. Yeah.

So in Isabel's version, he came asking her for 50 pence to go to a tea party at his friend John O'Hare's grandmother's house. He admitted that granny would not be there, and Isabel, perhaps wrong-footed by this unusually open concession and the absurd image of Iman and his merry band sat around a table enjoying freshly brewed cups of tea, handed him the coin and watched him stroll

away. Three hours later she watched him totter back up the path and stumble into the house. Shitface. Fucked up. The book says filled with drink but shit hammered fucking 12 year old. Trashed. Old Mrs. O'Hare's place had been taken over for the night by a rabble of young teens smoking dope and drinking cheap cider and beer.

Awesome. As the youthful intoxication intensified so too did the noise Exuding from within until O'Hare's dad was alerted and burst through the front door Worse for you to drink that cider because I mean booze turns to sugar anyway, but that cider is so fucking sweet. It's so good Yeah, you get like those sweet drinks that people have mixed drinks that are all sugar. It's like oh you are gonna be Headache eat tomorrow. Oh boy not good. I try. I don't drink it one day I don't drink anything sweet like that no booze wise no because it's for that reason I know it's gonna taste good, and then I'm gonna have a fucking headache I don't need that so I'll stick to shit that tastes a little bit not as great and but it gets so sick too shit yeah oh it's gonna be fucking horrifying and plus I

don't know if you drink booze and you know you're drinking it you'll drink less of it because you know you know what's going in you you feel it burning the way down yeah that's how you do it so anyway here's a Iman scampered up the stairs and exited through a bathroom window onto a yard wall and down into the back alley before Mr. O'Hare could identify him, but there was nothing he could do to hide his drunken state from his mother when he arrived home. To the best of her knowledge, that was Eamon's first experimentation with booze. So she thinks, mom thinks, this is the first time he's ever experimented with booze. So she thinks, mom thinks this is the first time he's ever

experimented with booze, which the fact that he made it home should tell her she should have had to go looking for him and found him like in a puddle of his own sick on the sidewalk. That would have been his first time. This is not his first time. But this might be the first part of his life that's relatable. Yes, exactly. I've been here before. Everybody's mom doesn't know their first time. Exactly, totally man. That's so fucking funny.

But it turns out that was definitely not his first time. He's actually been drinking pretty steadily and heavily since he was nine. Which is really good for you also The oh his first drink basically Well, I don't know if this is his first drink. He says it's his first drink was a stolen 2-liter bottle of black thorn spider or cider not spider Black thorn spider Wow, they're tough, you what suck on those you get real they're poisonous boy he found it tucked down the side of a delivery driver's seat in a van so he snatched it and ran away this guy's such a fucking

alcoholic at work that he's at work driving at work. That's his job. And he brings booze with him. That's what he's. Two liters of it. That's a lot. By noon this guy's going to be shaken delivering things to people. And it's that little bastard. He's driving around with the same quantity as we buy Pepsi. It's two liters. That's crazy. That's so much. So much. So he knew well that there was only one place to drink that

Two-liter bottle and that was back in his empty house. He went up through the trapdoor into the attic where dad used to drink and There he sat alone and drank his fucking cider God, holy shit man. That is uh, that's very stuff is so sweet. That is crazy Oh sweet And it makes sense why a nine-year-old would want to drink though when you hear a story like this I won't probably wrap it up with this Here that they say in the book the dangers of the nine-year-old that the nine-year-old Iman faced on the streets were very real One night he was walking home from the youth club just after 9pm with his friend Neely Schevlin. They had just emerged from Brompton Park entry and started up Berwick Road towards home when

a car slowed almost to a standstill alongside them and then sped away. The vehicle continued up Berwick before slowing again beside another figure walking on the sidewalk. This time the windows of the car lowered and the UDA murder squad inside fired bullets into the 26-year-old local man named Paul Blake. He was a Catholic victim chosen at random and they said that Eamonn and his friend were ... they stopped, looked at them, should we shoot them? Ah, they're too little and went on and shot the adult.

There's an adult up the street, get him instead. Just based on being too young, they won that night. Three years later, they would've shot him. Who knows, maybe. Can't relate. Can't relate to that. Went from relatable to completely just unique. Death squad.

That's why he drinks, you know what I mean? You know what? It's a good reason Yeah, and also too if you're a nine-year-old and it doesn't look like you're gonna you know That you will live a long healthy life. You might not really give a shit about doesn't matter anything anyone Oh, yeah, that'll you know, you're gonna be sick when you're older. Well, I won't be older. So who cares When I'm what? Yeah, what does fucking that mean? So we'll do that and we'll start up next week with him going to the other school here. Going to like the secondary school where, well actually we'll finish off with this because this is a neat little story here.

He was at his other school, the primary school that he liked a lot. He actually liked going there. Sure. At his other school, the primary school that he liked a lot, he actually liked going there. Didn't really like going to high school that much though. But he went there anyway, and the place he was going, St. Gabriel's, it's called, was known as one of the toughest schools in Belfast. They said the students were hard and the teachers were even harder.

Oh, with dangerous minds. Yeah, on his first day of school, he thought of it like a prison, basically, where he had to, you know, show somebody that he was he met business and to leave him the fuck alone. So he said he wouldn't go looking for trouble. But if it arrived, he'd deal with it. Now he's such a good boxer and everything else. Nobody knows that he's just this little kid. So the third day, there was a game of pitch and toss with a boy four years his senior. So he finally flicked his penny closer to the wall

to break a losing streak and win back his losses. So the older kid misjudged the situation a little bit and he overplayed his hand, we'll put it. That's, overplayed his hand a little bit and refused to give Iman the money that he won. Yeah. He's won now. It's rightfully his.

This kid's four years older, bigger, heavier, taller, the whole deal. Iman, according to the book, administered a savage beating that only relented when a passing teacher heard the commotion and dragged him off his bloodied foe She heard the crunches. Holy shit Now his mom got called in and his uniform got ripped and you know all that type of shit But he didn't give a shit because he made his fucking point Yeah, which was you know, don't take my money. Don't fuck. I'm not a mark around here No one's fucking including the vice principal

McGartland who he called, a hateful cunt. Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe he said that, because this guy made him and his classmates wait outside the dinner hall in subzero temperatures for no apparent reason So one day while that happened he was packing they packed a snowball until it was more solid ice than snow Emon instructed his two pals on either side of him John Connolly and Joe Carmichael To dry their hands and put them in their pockets and get them warm so then he threw the snowball Emon, toward the back of this guy's head and fucking nailed this guy right in the head. This guy turns around, pissed off,

marches up to Iman and his friends and you son of a bitches and yelling at him, call him little cunts, I'm sure, or whatever they call him there. So basically he said, you're coming to my office and Iman told his friends he has no proof that it was one of us. So don't be admitting anything or taking any slaps from him.

Yeah, you just- With warm hands. Deny, deny, deny. So the guy questioned them, who did it, who did it? Nobody would fucking own up to it. So he said, hand out, Carmichael. And the guy, the kid put his hand out and he received six stinging

whips from a well-used cane. Wow. Hand out McGee. Uh-huh. No chance for McGee here. Emon says no so this enrages this guy the hateful cunt so this guy began swiping at Emon's legs trying to hit him in the legs while he danced out of the way and deflected the worst of the blows with his book bag. Just pow pow. So this guy sweating and panting, McGartland came, gave up and moved on to Connolly and said hand out Connolly, at which point John Connolly turned and ran out the door. No. I don't want the smacks and I don't want to have to dodge them and you're tired so I'm running.

Yeah, you're already worn out. I don't think you can catch me. So he did say he liked Principal McGleeson. He said he was harsh but fair. Now one point here, McGleeson won him over being fair because Eamonn had a beef with a teacher of his first year he was an Irish class which they say is the one subject that Eman couldn't get his head around oh Irish that's the language not teaching you to

be I'm not like you know this is how you fucking boil a meat this is how you prepare a potato three quarts of whiskey a day is normal. Things like that. They don't teach you that here. This is how you walk snakes out. Yeah, no, no, no, no, none of that shit. None of that stuff there. So instead, this is like English,

which plenty of people here are great at either. We're terrible at it. It wasn't your favorite class either. They're fucking worst at it. So anyway, Iman snuck into Mr. Rice's, I guess he was, he failed all the time Eamonn. So he snuck into this guy's classroom and grabbed a copy of the following day's exam, stole it. Oh, smart. Yeah. Yeah. So he said though, he filled in just enough correct answers that he would pass, which is smart. There it is. Brilliant. That's smart.

Yeah, you get 100. I got the gist of this. And they're like, you either stole the test or cheated off the Asian girl. Who are we bullshittin'? Get the fuck outta here, Iman. I smell booze on your breath already. I got 68%, I'm a winner.

That's right, so he did just that. He thought it was the perfect crime, but Iman wasn't really Mr. Inconspicuous, they said, despite his best intentions. The teacher had calmly watched him cheat through the whole test. And he said, a buoyant McGee deposited his paper on the teacher's desk and swaggered out the door, and he was like, yeah, I did well.

He said, great, thank you, and then he left, and then the teacher wrote 0% across the front page in bold red marker pen. So he, he took his six wax with a yardstick from this teacher. Oh, he said, yeah. He said with little fuss because he knew what he, he knew he did it and he deserved it and he got caught doing it. So there was really no way to say it. He's like that fair and square.

You got me. But then there's another teacher named Miss McNeil who doesn't get the same respect here she tried to repeat the punishment and he did not want to do it so they argued back and forth and it led to an agreement to go to principal McGleason the one he likes and let him arbitrate the matter so he said okay fine Iman turns around to walk to the principal's office. When he does, his teacher lashed at him viciously across the back with a leather strap.

You can't do that. Strapped the kid, so pow, like, holy shit. Bottom man in the back, you can't do that. And he yelled out, Kuntukinte, and she said, no, motherfuck, no. I don't know what happened. This is fucking crazy. That is wild.

So yeah, she hits him. So he, the book says, the pain was like a lightning strike, and instinctively, McGee turned, and as he did so, threw a punch that whistled past his teacher's ear. Oh! Miss McNeil almost got knocked the fuck out. I almost killed a woman in the fucking head. Oh, oh shit.

So shocked and visibly shaken as she looked into young Iman's cold blue unblinking eyes, McNeil quietly ordered the boy to follow her to Maglison's office. Once there, Iman sat outside listening to her relay her version of the events to the principal. When Iman was called in, he didn't say a word. He merely removed his jumper and shirt and

stood with his bare back to Maglison the raw welt glowing among and its intensity here god damn you guys said okay Eman put your shirt and jumper back on and go home now so Eman put his shirt back on and left the room but he didn't go home no he sat outside the office because he knew that there was gonna be some shit going on for that teacher and he wanted to listen so he stood outside with his ear to the door and Listened with immense pleasure while McGleeson warned her never to strike a child like that in his school ever ever ever

A few minutes later when she came out Eman was sitting there waiting for her, just looking at her and having a huge shit-eating grin on his face. Gotcha, bitch. That's it. He needed her to know that he had won, even though he's the one with a big welt on his back. He's the winner and he knew it.

I'm in pain, but you're in pain. You're in fucking pain. Now okay, we'll do this. This will be the last thing we talk about because it's a fun way to end and crazy. You're gonna need a week to think on this. So he liked going to primary school like he said, but he didn't like going to secondary school.

He said, ah, he just didn't wanna do it. So him and his buddy, John Connolly, who are like best friends now, they decided that they deserved what they called an unscheduled midterm break. You know, a sick day. Yeah, well not even, not, normally you have kids have skip days in school

and shit like that. This is different, they needed a little more. They said, yeah, you could skip a class or two, that's fine, you could take a random day off and no one will really care. But we want a longer, like a week off. Oh. We wanna get some time off. So they went back and forth with some schemes. What about this now that won't work. What about that now?

They said yeah, we need an injury Okay, that'll do it an injury will have to stay home. So yeah They drew inspiration from the recently released classic escape to victory and it was decided That a couple of quick arm breaks would serve their purposes. That's not an Irish translation. Nope. It's an actual arm break.

We're going to bust each other's arms. Holy shit. I'll break your arm, you break mine, and then we get to take some time off of school. This is wild. Oh boy. Connolly, displaying a level of bravery that quickly wandered into the realm of stupidity went first Listen to this lay on the ground with his bare arm bridging the gap between a breeze block and the roadside curb He's gonna go to stomp his phone arm

Yeah, I can think of about 30 less horrifying ways to break your fucking arm than that right holy shit it's gonna American history access yes that's all Oh Jesus came down two-footed on his best Ah tell me you're just kidding and this is a real book, please this is too much. Oh my god I got an idea you go first We have talked about Terrible murders and I don't know of anyone that I've gotten such a reaction as I feel to this of just, Oh God, please don't do that. These are children.

Children. Oh, two-footed. Quote, the sharp crack of the bone was still, Oh God. Jesus Christ was still echoing down the street as Connolly's fervid high pitched squeals began and McGee started to have second thoughts. Maybe I don't want to do this. Oh my god.

Like the guys at the end of Scream stabbing each other. It's fucking insane So they go back to Iman's house. Yeah Iman wouldn't tell his mom shit. He wouldn't give it up. So Isabel got the truth out of John Connolly who She said broke relatively easily under interrogation. Yeah Years later she joked about it with Connolly and he revealed that after she mentally abused the story out of him, Emon was waiting outside the door and then beat him up for talking. Beat him up for telling.

Yeah. Jesus Christ. Connolly got a couple days off of school for this. Only a couple? You should be out of school for... Oh, god damn it. He got like two days off and Emon went straight back to school. of school for this. Only a couple? You should be out of school for, oh god damn it. He got like two days off and Emon went straight back

to school. And a prescription for fucking pain. Holy shit man, so that is pretty fucking fun. At the same time, his amateur career in boxing is doing really, really well. He's excelling in organized championships that 11 year olds are eligible to enter and which are the first steps to hopefully go to the Olympics.

He quickly became the Antrim champion, the city of Antrim, then Ulster champion, then Irish champion. Really? As a child. For years, he didn't lose a fight and successfully defended those three titles right the way through to senior level. The first all-Ireland win in 1983 was the one that left close to him and no doubt that he would be top of the amateur class at least here.

So he's doing really great and boxing and being an idiot with his friends. So yeah. Blasting their forearm. Blasting their forearm. Blasting their little fucking, I don't know if it was upper or lower, that they didn't say. Oh yeah. Either way, it's horrifying.

It's not good. So we will end it there. And obviously a lot more, we have a few more parts of this that are gonna come, and a whole lot of crime, and a whole lot of crazy stuff going on here. Yeah. Pretty soon he's gonna be throwing Molotov cocktails at British soldiers and shit, so it's...

Oh yeah, this is some crazy shit. So we will talk about all of that and more next week, but thank you so much for listening. If you enjoyed it, please get on whatever app you're listening on and give us five stars. It really helps the show. We have no fucking idea why. We wish we did, but we don't know.

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so get in there and come see us. It's gonna be a good time. Get your tickets for the rest of the year too. They're going fast, so get in there and come see us. It's gonna be a good time. Get your tickets for the rest of the year too. They're going fast, so get on in there and get them. Shutupandgivemurder.com. Follow us at Crime in Sports, wherever you follow things, on social media. Get yourself Patreon.

Oh boy. My God, do yourself a favor. Patreon.com slash Crime in Sports is where you get all of your bonus material. Anybody $5 a month or or above you're gonna get shit Not only as soon as you subscribe hundreds and hundreds of episodes as a back catalog to binge on but then new ones every other week And these aren't like 15 minutes long or anything like that all the ones in the last five six years are all an hour Or plus I mean, it's it's you're getting some shit here for that

So do that then you get new ones every other week one crime in sports one small-town murder, and you get it all that's right this week Which you're gonna get for crime and sports we're gonna talk about College coach sex scandals yeah, and they are the horniest boy I'll tell you so as soon as you get on that campus It's you get all the testosterone from the fucking 20 yearyear-olds or something in you, I don't know. The women too are horny, they're all horny. So the college women coaches, we'll talk all about that. Then for small town murder,

we're gonna talk about last meals, death row last meals, not the real famous ones like we talked about a few years ago on a Patreon, where these are kinda more in-depth. I'm interested in what people want to eat before they die I don't know what it is. I can't get enough of it. It's psychologically my shit. So we're gonna check that out patreon.com slash crime in sports and You also get a shout out at the end of the show. Oh, yeah, which is right now

Jimmy hit me with the list of the most fabulous fucking people who've ever existed that keep us going and pumping out great content for them. Hey, I'm right fucking now This was executive producers are Alexandra Armstrong Gary Howard Peyton Meadows Joey Morrissey and Sammy the judgmental potato, whatever that is. That's fantastic Thank you all so much the shit out of you. Thank you so much producers this week are Briana Bird She got her masters in psychology. I found out cuz her friend Cassie told me. Holy shit. I didn't. I don't keep track of that shit. You don't keep track of people's fucking educational. Yeah. Achievements? No, not me. Eli Covington, Janice Hill, Trina Gager I think or maybe Gager. Maybe Gagger. I hope it's Gager. Foxy T. Oh no, it's just Fox T. Kurt Keter, Josh Perkins, Jen Young,

Hannah Dixon, Jill Silva, Catherine the Sass. I think it's Sasshole. I doubt it's Sashhole, right? I don't know. Probably Sashhole makes more sense. Probably. Erica Beaker, Liz Avery. Jodie wants us to participate in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, so we may have to look into that. It's all the way in Edinburgh, James.

Yeah, it's a little far. It's all the way in Edinburgh, James. Yeah, it's a little far. It's a long play. Alex, Alexa. Alexa? Alexa Fenters? That's for people trying to get their name out there. We're fine. Heather R. Samantha Quinn I. Crominger. William O'Connor, Derek Glaha, Donald Rump, what the shit in Christ. Uh, Jane Ring, Lex Garrett, what is this, CF, myself,

Mount, is that, are you trying to get me to say myself something, what is that? What are you trying to get me to say now? Sarah Gilbert, probably not that one, I don't mind. No. Kimberly Ola, Amy Hanson-Wood, Lisa Holton, Gentry would know last name, Lisa Ballou, Matt Kirk, Kayla Ross, Joanna Jacobson, Tammy Maraquin,

Kevin Boggs II, Hans Hanson, no way, Tito Perry, M Vi, or V maybe, I don't know. VY is Vi usually, right? Tiffany would know last name. Randy Wagner, I got to talk myself through it. Connie Davis, Ashley Clark, Casey B, Michael Walker, James Pearl, Drew Roberts, Charlotte Hummel, Kim Mize,

Armise, maybe Laura D'Arcangelo, Rachel Croft, Keela, Keela H., Keela, Cassandra Archibald, Callie Needhammer, Knighthammer, I don't know, Michael Panetta, Liz Daniel, Liz Danielle maybe, it's just Daniel, Lindsay Nyland, Diane Hazen, Chris Rumor, Chris Rumor-Webster, you got two obviously. I think it's two people.

It's one guy, two patrons. You're the best, Chris. You are the shit. You're really overachieving. Shane Nugent, Concord with no last name, MDI 69, Patty Cakes, Melissa Williams, Joel Seha, or yeah, it's Seha. Matthew Smith, James Hodge, Randy Gallup, Alicia Maderos, Tanker Tom, 68, Scott Williams, probably not that one. Rene Bouton, what?

Moving on. William Ashworth, Jennifer Locklear, Jennifer Barnes, Riley Smith, Alexandra Glenn Burroughs, Danny Hill, Pamela McClain, Richard Amos, Kat Herbergmeyer, Herkmeyer, that's a brutal name. Ashley Pagano, can do that. Samantha Glatfelter, Kenny Barrett, Christine Gulkie, God damn it.

Elizabeth Jones, Cheryl Moore, Kyra Wheaton, Jill with no last name, Lord Gavitron, Jake with no last name, Danielle with no last name, Lord Gavitron, Jake with no last name, Danielle with no last name, Nick Krop, nope that's Korp, Jonathan Kowalski, Craig Machin, Machen, Melissa Reams, Angie Slater, Mike Kelly, Alex Esquivel. Alex. Alex.

Hondroyu, no last name, Sherry Bouton, I said that. Is that a different Bouton? Wow, more Bouton. Jesus Christ. My Bouton, I'll just say. Kevin Paterot. Bethany with no last name. Ty Lizard, Happy Toby.

PQ, Pete Sinoc, Gabby or Gabby with no last name. Joker with no last name. Joe Morrissey donated both ways. Thank you, Joe. Ashley Garrett, Catherine Godfrey, Catherine Duane. Barb would know last name. All Star Cleaning Solutions, they're in shape in South Carolina.

That's the easiest way to get an advertisement for your business, I suppose. Happy commercials. Nicky would know last name. Bill H. Casey Merrill, Bob Lob Lob. What? Bob Lob Lob. Bob Lob? Bob Loblob. Bob Loblob. Bob Loblob's Lobblog.

Arrested Development, it's an Arrested Development joke. That's what it is, that's gotta be from something. Lobblog. Bob Loblob's Lobblog. That's the fucking funniest thing. Diane with no last name, Ann Lieschka with no last name. Anne Leishka with no last name. Amber Lynn, no last name. Just Cody El Diablo Blanco Toxicco.

I think that's the toxic white devil, right? I think so. I don't know. Rebecca Hurley, Maggie Hennessey. Dana Nicole Bicford. I think it's Bhutan is what it's pronounced. Dana Nicole Bhutan. Blah, blah, what? Bickford. I think it's Poutan is what it's pronounced. Is it? Dana Nicole Poutan.

Jennifer Redman. George with no last name. William Dunn Pills. Rachel with no last name. Michaela Brownlee. Kelly Cruel. Rob with no last name. I'm gonna just put Poutan if they don't have last names.

We used to do horror, remember? That was the same thing. Yeah. Carrie Robertson. Kristen Montanaro. Deb Martinez, Varanese, Putan, Paul Putan, Sierra Tregdon, Sam Putan, Cherry Blonde, Barbara Baylor, DJ Putan, Amber Puckett, Joseph Kane, Gabby Bailey, Erin Anselmo, Robert Viera, Samantha Clifford, Carly Carey, Carey Woff maybe,

Hugh G. Rection, James, probably somebody's name. That's Bart Simpson fucking. JFK was no scoped, I don't know what that means. Was not scoped, he's dead, so it did happen. Kylie, 2016. Quentin Williams, Wildflower, Allison McArthur, Kevin Sconnard, Joanne Putan, Karen Syszek, Vicki Orvin, Richard Jalinen, what is this?

Mackenzie Kidwell, Cathy Falk, Bird Putan, Akilah Bailey, Ashley S., Miranda Putan, Megan Garman, Erica Espinosa, and all of our Putans, you're fantastic. Thank you everybody, you bunch of Putans. That's nice. Oh, I love you. We love you so fucking much. Thank you so much. We appreciate all that you do for us, obviously. It's remarkable and we honestly can't thank you enough for it. So thanks for that.

And if you want to follow us on social media, head over to shutupandgivemurder.com. They got everything in the drop down menus there. Take everywhere you need to go, Patreon included. So do that. Keep coming back week after week. Come back next week to hear more about Iman because we got some crazy shit for you here. Some wild boy. Wow, some wild shit.

So keep doing that and live from the Crime and Sports Studios. We will see you next week. Bye. If you like crime and sports, you can listen early and ad free now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple podcasts. Prime members can listen early and ad free on Amazon Music. Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at Wondery.com slash survey. Lamont Jones is shattered when his cousin dies just weeks after entering prison. at Wondery.com slash survey.