Far more than just a publican

Morrison’s Irish Pub owner Adam Nagy. PHOTO: PHILIP CHANDLER
Morrison’s Irish Pub owner Adam Nagy. PHOTO: PHILIP CHANDLER
He's a big man — though he used to be even bigger — and amazingly big-hearted.

We’re talking about the very hospitable owner of Queenstown’s Morrison’s Irish Pub, Australian-born Adam Nagy.

Aside from pulling pints, he’s become a massive sponsor of sports teams and sportspeople, and has turned from being the rowdiest supporter of the top local ice hockey team into a very competent linesman and ref.

Through school in Sydney, Nagy says he didn’t know what to do, but, afterwards, "I was chasing a girl and she wanted to do hospitality management, so I enrolled in that at TAFE".

"We ended up breaking up, but hospitality just became my life."

After several hospo roles, he decided on a change of scene so, at 21, followed a girlfriend and her mate to Queenstown in 2005.

Intending to remain only three months, he brought a backpack, but he soon decided to stay so it lived under his bed for 10 years or so.

Nagy worked in several bars and also had four seasons with skifield operator NZSki, becoming assistant F&B manager.

He was also known for wearing a mankini every St Paddy’s Day.

In 2012, he opened Shotover St strip club Club 88 with a business partner, promising it’d be classy.

He and his partner then bought Morrison’s in 2014, then when they parted ways two years later, he took the pub 100% and his partner took the strip club, which is now Soho.

Meantime, Nagy had taken up social ice hockey, having only briefly skated in Sydney, and became the SkyCity Stampede team’s biggest barracker.

He says "I was never racist, never derogatory and never swore", but he admits he did abuse opposition players — "I had coaches trying to kick me out".

"I’m just a man of passion — if I follow a team, I follow a team until it dies."

He was already reffing social hockey, but after complaining about refs controlling Stampede games, "I was told, ‘why don’t you put your skates on?"’

Nagy then trained to become a linesman last year, and is working on qualifying as a ref — he already controls women’s league games.

His lofty goal is to ref at world champs, and to speed up the process will do some reffing in the United States later this year.

"I’m never going to make the Stampede or a national team, but I’m on the ice with the players and you’re skating with them and you’re taking hits from them."

Officiating has also helped Nagy shed weight.

From weighing 150-plus kg — "I used to bend over in sweat tying my shoe laces" — he got down to 92kg through gym sessions and diet changes.

"I’m back up to about 110, but I’m just restarting the whole thing."

Another sporting passion is darts — Morrison’s formerly hosted the Queenstown Darts Club, and nowadays hosts charity tournaments.

About five years ago, Nagy also became Christchurch-based Haupai Puha’s main sponsor, looking after his flights and accommodation so he could just focus on "putting that tip of that dart in that dartboard".

"He’s one of the most genuine people you’re gonna meet."

And Puha’s repaid the faith, this year becoming the first NZer to gain a Professional Darts Corporation tour card.

Nagy says at a world cup in Germany Puha played a now-retired South African, Devon Petersen, whom he also sponsored.

"Both players had a Morrison’s pub logo on their shirt — it was one of the most surreal moments I’ve ever had."

He’s also sponsoring an NZ hurling team competing in Australia in October, and sponsors the Wakatipu Wild women’s ice hockey team and star player Kellye Nelson.

"I’m not allowed to sponsor the Stampede any more because of conflict of interest."

Nagy says his motivation’s helping sportspeople reach their potential and, in return, he enjoys riding on their coattails — as Puha’s plus-one, for example, gaining unique backstage access at darts tournaments.

He makes financial sacrifices to sponsor sportspeople, and does extra bar shifts to cut down on wage costs.

"Look, if I die tomorrow I’m not taking my money with me, right?"

But while he’s alive, he can’t think of anywhere better than Queenstown to live, which he’s reminded of every time he flies home.

"And you can still walk down the street here and say ‘hello’ to someone — there’s not many places in the world you can still do that."

 

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