11/10/2026
It is with great sadness that we say goodbye to a great character, a great friend and, above all, a great man, Kevin McOscar.
For so many of us at Mulligans, Kevin was much more than a customer. He was part of the furniture, part of the craic and part of the Mulligans family.
Kevin would call in regularly for a chat before venturing up the town to light a candle for us all. On his return leg, he would often arrive back with his bag of groceries, which usually consisted of a loaf of Nutty Crust and some cheese, which he would promptly hide in the keg store until departure.
That was Kevin, regimented to the end!
If you wanted great craic and an ear to listen, Kevin was your man.
It didn’t matter who walked through the doors of Mulligans, Kevin would welcome them with open arms. Within minutes, he would have worked out who they belonged to, where they lived and, most importantly, whether they could give him a wee lift to the Black Hill later!
And when introducing himself, Kevin would make one thing absolutely clear: it was McOscar, not McCusker.
He was also never shy about telling anyone that he was a proud Ballinderry Shamrocks man and a proud Derry man. Reminding us all on serval occasions about past All Ireland triumphs.
There were plenty of debates in Mulligans over the years. Football, cards, pool, the volume of the music, you name it, Kevin had a view on it.
Some debates would get dangerously close to boiling point, and Kevin wouldn’t be far away from winding the regulars up even further.
That earned him his famous nickname the Crabbit Man.
But just when you thought things were getting a little too serious, Kevin would look over the top of his glasses, give you that wink and smirk, and you knew he was only at it.
And when peace finally returned, Kevin would wander over to the jukebox with that hands behind his back and put on “Seven Spanish Angels” just to settle the mood back down again.
While away giggling to himself down to the toilet.
Kevin would also regularly drop you a private text asking:
“How’s everything going?”
“How’s the girls?”
“How’s work?”
“Was Mavis barred yet?”
And, inevitably:
“You need to get back to this bar. Dixie thinks he owns the place!”
Those little messages will mean even more now.
One thing that always stood out about Kevin, whether he was sitting in Mulligans or enjoying a sneaky pint somewhere up the street, was how fondly he spoke about his late wife, Moria.
He carried her memory with him and spoke about her with such warmth, even though he had lost her many years ago.
He also spoke with enormous pride about his sons, grandchildren and the joy they brought him, especially through the more difficult times.
We have lost some great men around Mulligans in recent years, and Kevin now joins them.
There’ll be some party up there tonight.
And somehow, we can picture Kevin right in the middle of it, leading the craic, giving the odd fist-pump salute, winding everyone up and making sure nobody takes the arguments too seriously.
From all the management, staff and friends at Mulligans, our deepest sympathies go to Kevin’s family, his grandchildren and all those who loved him.
Rest easy, Kevin.
McOscar, not McCusker. ❤️
A Ballinderry Shamrocks man.
A Derry man.
And a Cookstown man.
You will be sorely missed, Kevin.
A great friend to us all. 🙏🏻❤️
Slán go fóill, a chara
Go raibh suaimhneas síoraí aige 🥃
