Oliver was born in Belfast, played for the Instonians Club there, and then came to London where he joined our club in the late 1960s. He played for various London Irish teams eventually ending up, inevitably, in Des Egan’s B team where he merged seamlessly into that wonderful menagerie of rogues, troubadours, bards and singers.

Oliver was a fine scrum half, with a swift and accurate pass, and, despite his gentle nature, always showed the courage and bravery to tackle anyone who came his way, regardless of size.

He had a deep affection for London Irish, was a lifelong member of the club and thoroughly enjoyed having pints of Guinness and craic with his many friends, whether it was at Sunbury, Hazelwood or Brentford.

Oliver went on many tours abroad with the B team both as a player and then as a supporter. He particularly enjoyed the biennial trip to Paris and our regular matches against Paris University Club, BNP and Stade Francais. We sat together in Stade de France in 2000 when we won the match after 28 years suffering in the wilderness in Parc des Princes, wiping tears of joy from our faces before going on to enjoy wild celebrations in the Parisian night.
On one of the rare occasions when he missed a Paris game, we rang him at 2.00am on the Saturday night and prevailed on him to sing Danny Boy down the phone, from his bed in his house at home, stretching the phone cord out to the listening London Irish crowd standing silently in the street. It took a long time for his wife, Mary, to forgive us for that one!

Oliver was welcomed into any company, his kind and gentle nature was apparent to all and his thoughtful approach to life was appreciated and respected. He was fun to be with and loved the singing tradition in the club. He possessed the most wonderful tenor voice which could silence even the noisiest room in seconds and his moving rendition of Danny Boy will be long remembered by the many people who heard him over the years.

Oliver was an artist at heart, and also by profession and his creative and imaginative soul inspired his life, and indeed, his joy in the expressive skills of rugby at its best.

The affection and respect in which he was held is reflected in the numerous messages which have been sent since the news of his death. Oliver was the most decent of men, a loving husband and father, a loyal London Irish man and a wonderful friend. He is sadly missed by all who knew him and who enjoyed the warmth of his friendship.

Jim O’Hara