Are you a ‘people person’?

The well known quote, ‘no man is an island’, tells us that humans are social creatures and dependent on each other. No one is completely self-sufficient and we are all connected.

Some people are better ‘mixers’ than others. A person who is particularly good at interacting with others is often referred to as a ‘people person’. So do you regard yourself as a ‘people person’ – or maybe being a people person means something different to different people?

There is the shallow version, the ‘hail fellow well met’, and another kind – the person who really cares about others and remembers the little things that make you feel good.

I don’t know what category I am perceived to be in, but I do know that I love interacting with those around me and I know for sure that I am a people person. I talk to people and I find that the people I engage with are usually people persons as well.

Ninety per cent of people persons I meet are nice people, but I’m going to tell you two stories; one nice and one not so nice of ‘people persons’ I came across in exactly the same location in recent weeks.

I hadn’t intended for these examples to be the basis for this piece when I started the above, but like I often tell you, each column takes on a life of its own.

After the Donegal, Meath match, I jumped on the train in Drumcondra. Happy to see an empty seat, I asked the guy at the window if it was ok to sit next to him. ‘I’m going to Mullingar,’ the mature man with the nice speaking voice announced. ‘Me too,’ I replied. He held out his hand and told me his name – which I didn’t know. I shook hands with my fellow passenger and told him my name. The following is an exact account our brief conversation, word for word.

Joe: ‘I know you… you put me out of your gym one day.’ (That had to be 30 years ago, and of course I have no recollection of either the incident or this gentleman.) ‘Yes, I was just showing a friend around, when you came along and ordered us out… I never went back.’

Taken aback, I said that could not have been the full story. ‘I was in the business of bringing people into our sports centre… not putting them out,’ I said. ‘Were you a member of the club or paid visitors fees?’ I asked.

Joe insisted he was a member, but that his friend wasn’t.

(We were plagued with randoms coming in off the street and using the club facilities for free.)

‘Had you signed in, Joe?’ I ventured. (A club rule and insurance requirement).

‘I was only showing the gym equipment to a friend…’ (and again…) ‘I never went back!’

‘That’s a pity, Joe; because we built our business by sorting out misunderstandings.’

Joe now changed the angle of his attack. ‘You write some very interesting articles for the Westmeath Examiner.’

Ah, I thought to myself, the storm has passed and we are going to make small talk and revert to a civilised chat – but wait for it!

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You needn’t thank me… I don’t read any of them!’

Final words from me! ‘How do you know my columns are interesting if you don’t read them? I can see this is going to be a very negative conversation if it continues… which it won’t!’

And that was the last word between Joe and me until we alighted from the train and went our separate ways!

Now read on please…

I was first one on the train after the hurling final. An elderly Tipperary fan, a publican, sat down beside me. A ‘mixed marriage’ between Tipp and Limerick plonked down on the seat opposite. None of us knew each other, but all I can say is that I was sorry all three of them got off in Maynooth!

The fun and banter were just as they should be… tremendous.

I was lucky because it just so happened that I remembered some of the matches they were replaying. When the Limerick fan said they had a better team in 1974 than the All-Ireland winners in 1973, I reminded him that Kilkenny were short five players in ’73, including Eddie Kehir, and I was able to remind the Tipp man of an incident in the 1967 final after he brought up that match.

Before leaving the train, we all shook hands and the last words of the Tipperary man were, ‘may you enjoy many more finals and may your memory be always as good as it is now!’.

A useful lesson in being a people person… if only Joe read this column!

Don’t Forget

It is hard to be critical of Croke Park after a great year thanks to the football rule changes (apart from shortening the season, of course!) But whose idea was it to do away with the minor final or at least some curtain raiser? An insipid ‘pre match entertainment’ that no fan gives two pucks about, is no substitute for a meaningful match before the big one. And fire whoever drew the grass-cutting pattern or cut the grass for the big day!