BLINDED BY THE LIGHTS

New book tells cautionary tale of how sporting heroes like DJ can so easily exploit the faith of their followers

- BY GARRY DOYLE

THE DJ Carey story is about hurling as much as it is about crime.

It's about a public’s relentless desire for their sporting idols to be the same in everyday life as they are on the pitch.

It's a cautionary tale about hero worship, about what happens when the brilliance of an athlete can blind even the best of us.

Carey is one of hurling’s most radiant figures.

A five-time All-Ireland winner, a player whose match-winning goals inspired a generation, his hurling genius is unquestionable.

But in her new book The Dodger, author Eimear Ní Bhraonáin chronicles a darker side of the Kilkenny legend: the man behind the myth, a swindler who defrauded friends.

"He was who he was," Ní Bhraonáin says, bluntly. "A cancer conman. But because people trusted him, that made it easier to get money.”

That trust came not just from familiarity, but from the magic of hurling itself.

People crave heroes as an escape from the mundane - because normal life is beige whereas a hurler dancing past defenders to score a match-winning goal is colour.

And when that hero acts like someone who could be your neighbour, it’s hard to see the wood for the trees. That's part of what makes this story so tragic.

“He crafted this humble, local hero persona,” Ní Bhraonáin explains. “He was able to do stuff under our noses because we thought he was his persona.”