He was the same era as Willie John and arguably technically better in his positions than Willie John was in his.
As I posted elsewhere, McLoughlin and Syd Millar were forerunners to Porter. Both Test Lions who played either side of the scrum at the highest level. McLoughlin transitioned from No.8 to prop (whiole at UCD). Millar's journey started at out-half(!) when at school.
First selected as a 22 year old Tight-Head in 1962, McLoughlin was on the 1974 side that was the first to win anything by an Irish team since 1951...a 23 year gap. He also played in THAT Baa-Baa's game. McLoughlin was a pivotal figure in the '71 tour of New Zealand, on and off the pitch. He was light years ahead of his time as a thinker and trainer.
He won 40 caps, equivalent to 80 in today's money, despite long absences through injuries.
Stories doing the rounds include:
- 1
- 2
At the dinner in the Shelbourne Hotel. Set menu for the players of chicken & chips.
On the other table, the committee/ blazers are tucking into steaks, wine, Champagne etc.
Ray McLoughlan calls the waiter and says “I’ll have a steak like them”.
“I’ll have to ask the committee about that Sir” says the waiter. “Go on then", says Ray. Over he goes and you can see the committee looking over in disgust, muttering away.
The waiter comes back and says “The committee say you may have the steak Mr McLoughlin, on this occasion, but the rest of you stay on the set menu!"
Ray enjoys his steak and then the waiter comes over and says “Gentlemen, for dessert you can choose between jelly & ice cream and tapioca”
Quick as a whippet Ray says “I’ll have another f%~kin' steak thanks”.
And he got it. Cue total pandemonium amongst the Blazers!
Finally an ode to Ray from former Lansdowne, Connacht and Ireland loose-head prop and Poet, Tom Clancy:
The Last Fir Bolg (Ray McLoughlin RIP)
By Tom Clancy
Tonight we shall
A vigil keep
Our last Fir Bolg
Now gently sleeps
Carved from ancient
Galway oak
With torc of gold
And velvet cloak
You watched the fox cubs
Chasing leaves
When scattered by
Cold winter's breeze
Barefooted by
Brave Aughrim's slopes
Hoisting sails
And turning ropes
Great limbs of steel
Above the cogs
From wheeling turf
Through windswept bogs
A blinding Ray
Beguiled the air
As crafty dealers
Left the fair
Now we must keep
Your Connacht shield
One lion heart
From Erin's fields.
ENDS
Ar dheis De go raibh a ainm dilis.
PS - Ronnie Dawson, Millar, Tom Kiernan are the Union's Trustees. They and McBride are the surviving greats of their generation. (Noel 'Noisy' Murphy was a greater off-field grandee than on-field).
