In his office at the front of the family home in Artane, Paddy Morgan’s life opens up to you like a collage. Hung on this wall is a map of the world with little flag pins stuck in all the places he has played golf with International Blind Golf. Fixed to that wall is a cabinet with various trophies and trinkets and certifications. Framed and mounted on the other one are interviews and articles he has had published in the national press.
There’s a couch and a television, separated by only a few feet, his window to the world of sport he wants to make a career writing about. There’s a desk with a computer. There’s a boxing bag hanging down from the ceiling and a pair of gloves nearby. Do they get much use? “The odd time,” he laughs.
Morgan has Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP for short). It’s a rare genetic disorder that has slowly robbed him of his vision since his early teens. Up until the age of 10, he could see just fine. He was able to play football, run around and be a kid like anyone else. But as RP gradually caused the cells in his retina to break down, he found he couldn’t see as much as he used to. And so he couldn’t do as much as he used to.
Sitting here today, at 27-years-old, he is more focused on what’s possible than what’s beyond him. He can still see, just not as much as before. He has no peripheral vision. If you put out your hand to shake his, he won’t see it because he’ll be looking at your face.
“My central vision is not too bad,” he says. “Like, where we’re sitting now, I have to turn my whole head to see you. I can’t see anything that isn’t in front of me. Throughout my teenage years, it went from 100 per cent down to where it is now, which is about 50 per cent. By the time I was 14, I had to stop playing football because I was probably going to get hurt.
“It was just bad luck really. They did all the tests for the whole family – my mam, my dad, my brothers, their kids. And they just said it was bad luck. Just unfortunate. It wasn’t like anyone else in the family has it.
“But like, you can’t sit at home forever. Life has to go on, you have to do something. That’s the way I’m looking at it.”
One of those things is golf. Growing up, his dad and his brothers played and so he played too. When his sight started to go, he realised it was something he could hang onto. He played his first full round when he was 13 and has kept at it ever since.
“When I put the ball down, I can see it no problem. But when I hit the ball, I couldn’t tell you where it goes. So it involves a guide and the guide is my dad. He sets me up, lines me up. Say, off the tee, he’ll line me up with the fairway and tell me where I should hit it. And then when I do, he tells me where it goes.
“There’s really only two rules that are different in disability golf. If I was playing against you, I’d be able to ground the club in a bunker. And then the other one is like, if my dad is guiding for me, he’s allowed to stand behind me to line up a putt whereas a normal caddy wouldn’t. So that’s the only difference. The rest is the same. We all play with the rules of golf.”
He has played golf in Japan, in South Africa, across Europe. In 2016, he played in the US Open Blind Golf Championship in Arizona and came second. In recent years, he has become captain of the Irish Blind Golf organisation. When they held the Irish Open in Carlow during the summer, the prize-giving was his first time public speaking. Another small victory stashed away.
For all his good nature, you wouldn’t say it has been plain sailing the whole way along. School wasn’t straightforward by any means. As his sight declined, he found the work harder to do. And fewer allies to help him do it.
“When I was in school, it was difficult to write because I had to keep looking at the board and try and zoom in on the board. And unfortunately, at a mainstream school, I was an easy target to pick on. They kept slagging me because I couldn’t see. Mam and Dad would be onto the teachers saying, ‘He needs to see a dark colour on a bright background and sometimes he just doesn’t see so you need to tell him what’s on the board.’ It was just constant challenges like that.
“Unfortunately, when you go to school, there’s always a wind-up merchant and they get a laugh so they keep slagging you. Sometimes I just let it go over my head because if you go back at them it will just rile them up a bit more. Once or twice it got a little bit out of control but the teacher dealt with it and we moved on.”
He did his Leaving Cert at a school in Drumcondra that caters to kids with disabilities. When it came time to think about what to do next, he had no big ideas. He loved sport and thought maybe a V-Tec sport and recreation course might be an option. But he soon realised it was for people who wanted to become personal trainers, which was never going to be an option for him.
So he tried his hand at journalism. There was a course quite near him, at Coláiste Dulaigh, so he applied. The first year was the Covid year, so he did it at home. After two years, he graduated and went out into the world.
“I’m a big fan of sport, I watch hours and hours of sport. People say you should do something you like to do. I was Googling one day and I found the course and had a go at it. I’ve had a couple of chances since to write about – online stuff and that.
“Mostly, it’s writing. I enjoy writing. You can pick a topic and go off on a tangent and freehand write it and come back and edit. I like interviewing people for the podcast. I’m trying to break through into the industry.”
So far, it’s going pretty well. He has done interviews with the likes of Pádraig Harrington, Leona Maguire and Shane Lowry and had them published in The Star. This year alone, he wrote about the majors for Balls.ie and covered the Ryder Cup for Joe.ie. He watches on his TV and writes on his computer and finds a way to overcome.
“I know it’s not easy to get into it. I know it’s difficult enough even without the disability. But I’m not giving up. If I can do it with a disability, there’s no reason why someone else with a disability can’t do the same thing.
“I find that people just don’t get that people have to live with disabilities. It’s a constant thing. Once you tell people about it, they become more understanding. But you have to tell them. There’s no understanding of it without telling them.
“Like, if I’m walking along a footpath and somebody has parked their big wide car out on their footpath instead of their driveway, I have to go out onto the road to get by. I’ve seen that loads of times – big wide driveways lying empty and a big car sitting on the footpath outside it. There are constant challenges but I don’t take it personally and I don’t get offended. It’s just the way society is.”
He’ll keep trucking. Day by day, sport by sport, article by article.
No other way to do it.
