The jailing in November of former All-Ireland-winning hurler DJ Carey for fake cancer claims was the surreal culmination of a story that played out like a sort of Hibernian Great Gatsby – a morality fable that drilled deep into the Irish soul and which brimmed with tragedy and absurdity.
That bizarre tale is now told in the comprehensively and perfectly pitched two-part documentary DJ Carey: The Dodger (RTÉ One, 9.35pm). It tracks Carey’s ascent to hurling immortality as a star Kilkenny corner forward and his bizarre second life as a fraudster who inveigled thousands of euros out of people who had admired his prowess on the pitch.
His victims included millionaires such as Denis O’Brien but also ordinary people, including accountant Thomas Butler. “I gave €17,000 away to a stranger without checking anything,” says Butler, early in the first of two episodes. “It’s embarrassing.”
As anyone who saw him in his pomp will tell you, Carey was a supreme stylist. Yet he was never quite the complete package: a great, but not the GOAT, as the terminology goes nowadays.
DJ Carey celebrates his first goal in the 2000 All-Ireland hurling final. Photograph: INPHO/Andrew Paton
When he was on fire, he was unstoppable. However, he could go missing in games – drift in and out in a way that was uncharacteristic of Kilkenny or its heavy metal, “This is Sparta!” philosophy towards hurling. Even in the white heat of battle, he was a man with troubles on his mind. The suggestion made in this comprehensive documentary was that those distractions often had to do with money.
[ Former Kilkenny hurler DJ Carey jailed for 5½ years for ‘reprehensible fraud’Opens in new window ]
Carey experienced all the downsides of fame – the prurience about his private life, the responsibilities he felt towards fans and fellow athletes. But there were none of the upsides. He was, for a few years, the greatest player in the greatest sport in the world. Yet he was never going to get rich out of hurling. The implication here is that this gnawed at him.
DJ Carey pictured with the Liam McCarthy Cup. Photograph: INPHO/Patrick Bolger
“When you consider everything he put into it – he wasn’t getting any cash in the bank for it,” says journalist (and Kilkenny supporter) Eimear Ní Bhraonáin, who has chronicled Carey’s rise and fall in the bestselling book The Dodger: DJ Carey and the Great Betrayal and who was on hand when Carey was sentenced to five-and-a-half years in prison last month.
[ The downfall of DJ Carey: Rumours, riches and a staggering mesh of fact and fictionOpens in new window ]
The Dodger refers to the reputation Carey acquired early on as a hurler who could beat far bigger players through sheer guile and determination. Such talents served him well when he led St Kieran’s to the schools All-Ireland over Midleton CBS in 1988. They also helped him drag Kilkenny back from the wilderness of seven years without an All-Ireland, when they bested Offaly in 2000. He would put in another strong performance in the 2003 final despite the papers having printed stories that morning about the collapse of his marriage.
DJ Carey. Photograph: Collins Courts
But no matter how electrifying his stickwork, he was never a typical sports star. It’s hard to tell whether he was shy or aloof. Either way, he wasn’t one of the lads, and few who knew him recall him having any friends. Fame is always lonely. Being a loner made it harder still.
The story of his life in retirement and his false cancer claims will be told in part two. This opening episode is a riveting portrait of a flawed hero who had the hurling world at his feet yet who seemed to hunger always for something the GAA could never give him – a glittering lifestyle worthy of his stardom.
[ The Dodger: DJ Carey & the Great Betrayal – A forensic look at an unusual rise and fallOpens in new window ]
