Mayo Minors and the GAA - Symbols of the Best of Ourselves

Your correspondent is flattered to be in the Mayo News today, writing about the Mayo minors who are facing Armagh in the All-Ireland final on Sunday, but also about the GAA itself, that remarkable organisation that remains, in so many ways, the best of ourselves. Up Mayo.

On Sunday at a quarter past one or so yet another Mayo team will respond to the call of the bugle on All-Ireland Final day. Mayo have been in so many senior finals in the past few years that some people have actually become blasé about the big day, or else bitter about the cruelty of the defeats.

This is the wrong attitude. Life is short and fleeting, and it’s best to take the poet’s advice and gather ye rosebuds while ye may. No day in Irish life is greater than All-Ireland final day, and to see Ray Dempsey bring another Mayo team to the great stage is a cause of delight and celebration.

Bliss it would be to win, of course, and bring home the Markham Cup. There is no reason why they can’t win it, and several why they can. But even the very fact that we are still playing Gaelic games is miraculous, in its own way.

In the modern world, the fact that an amateur organisation can be such a unifying force to show the nation at its best is staggering. Not least when you consider the forces ranged against it.

The current recession has exposed much of what we’ve been interested in lately as fools’ gold, and we seek solace among the wreckage. Yet throughout all this, there still shines the GAA, an organisation that should have been consigned to history along with doors on the latch, visiting your neighbours and whitewashing the house.

But progress hasn’t swallowed it yet, and as the country faces peril in public life, the GAA could be the very best thing we still have going for us.

Because the GAA still represents all that’s best about us. The GAA is not eighty thousand people in Croke Park watching Dublin v Kerry – the GAA is having somewhere to send your kids to play a game, to be looked after and learn about life, to learn about fitting in, about who they are and where they’re from, about the wisdom of taking Kipling’s advice on treating those impostors, triumph and disaster, just the same.

Some people will tell you that rugby in Croke Park is the triumph of the GAA. I say to you that the triumph of the GAA is that people keep clubs going by giving up their weekends to sell lotto tickets, and by packing fifteen schoolboys and a dog into a van and taking them to a match refereed by a sheep and umpired by curlews in a field that isn’t marked on any map.

And for we Mayo people this week, having another team at headquarters on All-Ireland Final is a reason for joy, confirmation that the organisation is strong and replenishing among the plain of the Yews. None of this happens by accident, or divine right, or dumb luck. It happens because the players and the management and the Board, God love them and forgive them their trespasses, put a lot of effort into it.

When Mayo face Armagh on Sunday, remember for a moment that there are thirty other counties who would give a lot to be in Mayo’s stead. Not least the gallant Mournemen, who found in Mayo a wall which they could not scale on that wet day in Croke Park. Or Tipperary, who fell in Tullamore while the nation’s eyes were on Kerry and Dublin. Or Roscommon, who took Mayo to a replay after giving all they had in the Connacht Final, in the best traditions of the Constant Hearts.

Winter will soon be with us, and who knows what that winter will bring. But before the winter bites, what joy that the minors are in the final, challenging for honours, and what joy that the green and red flags will wave at headquarters as the sun sets on another magical Irish summer. These are the days of our lives. Up Mayo.






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Mayo Minors Fall at Final Hurdle

An Spailpín Fánach is flattered once more to be allowed the pages of the Mayo News to express his two cents on our gallant minors, who strove, sought and did not yield, although defeated, on Saturday. It's ironic to be posting this now, on a day when the world stands in wonder at some profoundly short-sighted messing in the US House of Representatives yesterday, messing that the puts the very futures of these young men in jeopardy. But we must all hope for the best, and treasure what we have. Life goes on.

Tyrone 1-20
Mayo 1-15

There was a banjo festival on in Longford the same weekend that the Minor All-Ireland final was replayed at Pearse Park. The banjo is a fine instrument in many ways, but it is not well suited to slow airs or laments, the only appropriate music for the legion of Mayo support and for the Mayo minors of 2008 for whom it was another day of so nears and yet so fars.

No Mayo heart can but fill with pride at the thought of the achievements of Ray Dempsey and his lionhearted team, for whom the summer has been a long odyssey of toil and dedication. Last Sunday’s draw was not the first of the campaign, but the third. Mayo drew with Monaghan and with Kerry as well, before seeing both of them off. As such, Mayo were able to face the replay against Tyrone making no apologies to anyone.

Tyrone got off to the better start but this Mayo team is not one that is shaken off easily. They doggedly stuck with the game and were still in contention after finishing the first half only two points down with wind advantage to come.

The second half developed of a pattern with the drawn game as two fine teams matched each stride for stride, blow for blow. By the time the clocked tolled an hour, Mayo’s Aidan Walsh was once more lining up a long range free on the left hand side, but this time to save the game, rather than to win it. It made no difference to Walsh – over the crossbar it went, and Mr Reilly blew for full-time and extra time.

Sadly, after so many heroics of the long, wet summer, Mayo’s well had finally run dry. Despite their best efforts, Mayo were three points down at half time and only hanging on. Manager Ray Dempsey was on the pitch at half-time in extra time, exhorting his boys for one final push, but it was not to be. Goalkeeper Robert Hennelly, the hero of full time for saves whose excellence was such that a rumour ran around the ground at one stage that Air Force One was filled with green diesel at Knock, ready to fly the young man to Washington to see if he could save the US economy as well, was calling for one final heave as well, a leader of men.

But the Tyrone pressure ultimately told in what has very much been Tyrone’s year, and the goal went in that sealed Mayo’s doom. James Cafferkey got one back with about a minute to go but all it did was take the bad look off a scoreboard that did scant justice to Mayo’s talent, effort, heroism and guts.

Tyrone were well worthy of their victory, and all Mayo congratulates them in what has been another fantastic year in a fantastic decade for them. Your correspondent was at the league game in Healy Park at Easter last year and I was really taken with the warmth of the welcome for the visiting support, and the vibrancy and pride of place the people of Tyrone showed then. They deserve and are worthy of their success at every level.

As for Ray Dempsey’s minors of 2008, their whole lives teem before them, and they must make the most of them. We only come this way once, after all. Perhaps they feel badly about some calls that did not go their way in last Saturday’s game; they shouldn’t, as very little happens in life’s great game that’s particularly fair, and there is even less point in appealing to the referee in that game either. The best policy is generally to bite the bullet, put it behind you and wait for the next kickout.

High stool discussions on who will or won’t make it at senior level will lengthen as the days shorten, but it is a fundamental truth in life that while man proposes, another Power entirely disposes, and His ways are not always easy to figure out. Whatever else happens, and whatever life has in store for these young men, they have worn the green above the red with pride, passion and distinction. They are a credit to their manager and their people and they have all our thanks and best wishes for their futures, whatever side of the markings they find themselves. Maigh Eo abú.





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The Game of Three Thirds - Mayo Minors Denied at the Death

An Spailpín Fánach is flattered once more to be allowed the pages of the Mayo News to sing the praises of Ray Dempsey's minor team. The team played in their manager's own image and were desperately unlucky not to bring the Cup home when they had one hand clasped on it going into injury time. They will close the deal on Saturday in Longford at half-two, with the grace and help of God.

Mayo 0-14
Tyrone 0-14

In the end, the 2008 All-Ireland Minor Football Final proved to be a game of three thirds. Mayo dominated the play for the first twenty minutes only for Tyrone to come back into the game up until half-time and on ten minutes into the second half. Then came the denouement of the final twenty minutes, when Mayo had one hand on the Tom Markham cup only to see it dashed agonisingly from their grasp with the second-last kick of the game.

Mayo made a start that was as bright as the suddenly sunny weather, with tasty points zipping over the black spot from the wings. Inspired by the imperious Aidan O’Shea at centre-forward, the forwards buzzed like bees before Hill 16 and Mayo found themselves seven points to three up and cruising after twenty minutes.

The Tyrone senior team, however, have not redefined Gaelic football in these early years of the century without their young men having noticed, and fancying a drink from the cup of glory for themselves. Like young bulls that had been disturbed while grazing, Tyrone roared right back into contention, scoring five unanswered points and cutting through the Mayo defence with punishing runs from midfield and deeper. Tyrone were slicing Mayo to ribbons and the half-time whistle came as a blessed relief to the harried Mayo rearguard, as Mayo were now trailing by eight points to seven in a worrying turnaround.

Mayo manager Ray Dempsey has made much of how character is forged by adversity and the team proved him right in the way they responded to Tyrone’s challenge. Captain Shane Nally scored a point one minute into the second half to remind Tyrone that Mayo hadn’t gone away you know and, after Robert Hennelly made a super save on the 37th minute to deny a certain goal at the cost of a point, the game entered into its third and final stage.

For those final twenty minutes then it was war of no quarter between Mayo and Tyrone, as each checking move was checkmated by the other. Dark clouds rolled across Dublin 7 as the final minutes were played out – the sun had to go away, not being up to Championship pace itself after so few appearances this summer.

With ten minutes to go, it was honours even. Aiden O’Shea lamped a huge point into the Canal End from a distance that would have done credit to a senior hurler, to say nothing of a minor footballer, giving Mayo a one point lead with eight minutes left. Tyrone equalised, and then went one ahead. Six minutes left. Mayo struck back with a Dean Gavin point and then, on the sixtieth minute, Aidan Walsh had a free from the shadow of the Cusack Stand to give Mayo the lead going into garbage time in an All-Ireland final.

Walsh stroked it over and all Mayo had to do was sit on it and they were champions. Sadly, it was not to be – the ball was turned over, Tyrone swept forward and hit the equalising point into their relieved legion of supporters on the Hill. Mr Hickey blew for full-time and the Mayo boys were stretched on the field, disconsolate and desolate that they were so near to glory, and still so far away.

But a draw is not a defeat and once the sting dies a little, they can take comfort in the fact that Mayo were the better team on the day. The team has got better in every game that it played and now it has been forged some more in yet another fire. No reason not to push on and close the deal next weekend.

Not least as they have Aiden O’Shea wearing the green above the red. It’s unfair to single out players in a team game, especially minor players, but Aiden O’Shea is an outstanding prospect. So much so that a Kerryman told me during half-time of the senior game that he was O’Shea’s cousin, and they’d love to have him in the Kingdom. “Goodness gracious,” said your correspondent, or words to that effect, “have you not got plenty as it is?”





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If Expectations Get Any Damper Mayo Are in Danger of Drowning

An Spailpín Fánach is flattered once more to be allowed the pages of the Mayo News to give his two cents on the end of another bitterly disappointing Championship campaign for the county Mayo. The problem of losing All-Irelands no longer seems as bad when you can't get to them any more.

The speculation about John O'Mahony leaving is depressing. The biggest mistake that O'Mahony made in dropping Ciarán McDonald was in not having any better to replace him - who now would take over from Johnno? Poor John Maughan doesn't seem half the ogre now. Remember the great days in Tuam in July and Croke Park in August? And there was a hot barrel of tar in every town in the county Mayo waiting for him by the time Mayo lost to Kerry in 2005. Eaten bread is soon forgotten.

William Shakespeare, whose contribution to Gaelic games scholarship is all too often overlooked, writes in his twenty-third sonnet of

"... some fierce thing replete with too much rage,
Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart."

Remind you of anyone? The constant quest for Sam, and having been so near so often so recently, has maddened minds in the County Mayo, and desire has overcome perspective. Mayo people have trouble living in the now; unlike the man on Broadway in the old song, we don't take the day for what it's worth and do the best we can.

But now we have nothing but now as the Dream of Sam dies for another year. We shall make the most of our own Championship, cheer for whomever in the All-Ireland and emerge once more in early spring with the iris and the snowdrop. Muigh Eo abú go deo.






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Looking Back on Mayo v Tyrone in the Mayo News

An Spailpín Fánach is flattered to be in the Mayo News again this week, reminiscing on the last two Championship encounters between Mayo and Tyrone prior to the game this coming Saturday.

I remember the 2004 game vividly of course, but I had to access the Irish Times archive to go back to 1989. What I do remember is that summer though, the TV in Hanley's window that showed a tape of the game over and over again for the month prior to the All-Ireland, and the whole town of Ballina draped in green and red. For anyone that's feeling nostalgic, Wendy here should bring you back nicely. Roll on Saturday.









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Football Debate in the County Mayo

An Spailpín is flattered to be once more in the pages of the Mayo News this week, the paper offering the best sports coverage in the county Mayo. And aren’t their pictures from the Connacht Final just marvellous? You have to hand it to them.

As the discussion rages and we tear over the evidence of the defeat to Galway, your sentimental Spailpín couldn’t help letting his mind drift back to four years ago come Friday, when a few of the boys were whooping it up in Eddie Gaughan’s saloon. We were discussing Mayo’s victory earlier that Sunday in Castlebar against Roscommon, whose sad decline had already begun at that stage.

It was a poor enough game, and memorable really only for a final minute pitch invasion that caused then selector George Golden to run out onto the pitch (at a much faster clip than you’d think a man that wintered as well as Georgie could manage, I might add) in fear that the match would be abandoned. In a practical effort to clear the pitch, Georgie set about boxing every head within swinging distance, a performance that put Horatius at the Bridge in the ha’penny place.

So it was a mellow gathering in Gaughan’s that night, as the summer stretched before us. Our thoughts turned to the vagaries of management, and how John Maughan had returned to lead his people once more to the Promised Land. Or at least, it was mellow at the start.

“It just goes to show you,” said An Sionnach Seang to the assembled company. “Maughan is the best manager we ever had.”

“He lost them on the line!” spat An Bata Damhsa.

“What are you on about?” queried An Sionnach.

“1997!” wailed An Bata, for whom the hurt was still real. “Maughan changed four lines to make one substitution! Madness – the softest All-Ireland ever! Johnno is the only man for that job – will he no’ come back again?”

“Johnno?” An tUbh Breac looked up from the stool in the corner. “Johnno is a traitor. No man did more damage to Mayo football than John O’Mahony. Galway were dead and gone and they’ve two All-Irelands now! And it’s all Johnno’s fault!”

An Bata Damhsa wasn’t taking that one lying down.

“Sure what else could he do when his own didn’t want him?” countered An Bata. “Didn’t the Board run him out of the county?”

“Don’t make me sick,” said an tUbh, seldom a man to back down. “He did nothing in his final two years in Mayo except lose to Galway and lose to Roscommon. No-one can compare to John Maughan’s achievements. Least of all Johnno.”

“Well I don’t know what you’re all talking about,” said An Tuiseal Tabharthach, coming back in from a refreshing smoke and scope up and down O’Rahilly Street. “You haven’t even mentioned the best manager we’ve had in over thirty years yet.”

“Who?” chorused we all.

“Pat Holmes,” said An Tuiseal, pulling on his pint of special.

“Pat Holmes!” Consternation in Gaughan’s.

“Yeah, Pat Holmes,” said An Tuiseal, wiping his mouth with that implement a thoughtful God gave him for that very purpose, the back of his hand. “Wasn’t Pat Holmes manager of the only Mayo senior team to win a national title in thirty years, the League in 2001?”

“Ah for Jesus’ sake a Thuisil!” said An Sionnach, getting more Rua by the minute. “For the love of God – Pat Holmes! Pat Holmes!” added An Bata, making common cause with his enemy of two minutes’ before. An Spailpín Fánach thought he spied an tUbh Breac coming dangerously to the boil, and decided it was time to step in. I slurped some strengthening stout, rose unsteadily, and addressed the congregation.

“Boys – isn’t this the story of Mayo football all over? We’ve just had a great win in the Connacht Final over an ancient and feared enemy, and here we are getting stuck into each other six hours later! For God’s sake, can we not enjoy it while it’s here?”

So we sat down to toast Mayo, with the long summer whose twists and turns, the high of the win over Tyrone and the miserable low of Bradygate, were still full and fertile before us. But that argument developed after Mayo won the Nestor Cup, their first Nestor Cup in five barren years as I recall. You can imagine how many wigs are on the green at home this week after Mayo lost one.





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Mayo Remain Defiant After Galway's Sammon Leap

Galway 2-12
Mayo 1-14

One of the great feats of gaiscíocht, or acts of heroism, of the mythical Irish warriors was the salmon leap. The warrior had to be able to leap an opponent’s shield in order to hack off the opponent’s head from above, what modern marketing consultants would consider thinking outside the envelope.

Galway are doing some Sammon leaping themselves this year, as crowned by their Connacht Championship on Sunday. Manager Liam Sammon is in his first year in charge and does not enjoy the media profile of his Mayo opposite number, but that doesn’t make him the lesser man. In this age of special assistant to the isotonic water carrier, the craggy featured Sammon is refreshingly old school. He seems to believe in finding the best fifteen players in the county, showing them the jersey, throwing them a football and telling them to let rip. Works pretty good so far.

It’s fashionable to preface any comments about Galway’s potential with the remark by dismissing their All-Ireland winning prospects. If Galway aren’t All-Ireland contenders, then may I beg my masters’ pardon and ask who are? Lethal forwards, a midfield that can only get stronger when Joe Bergin returns, tigerish backs in Burke, Blake, Fitzgerald and Hanley, Bradshaw and Conroy bringing the bloom and beauty of youth and the ageless, iconic Padraic Joyce, a winner since his Hogan Cup days with Jarlath’s, invested by Sammon with the power to loose and to bind from the pivotal 11 position – what’s not to like?

As for Mayo, once the bitterness of a one point defeat dies away and the acrid taste is washed away by a week’s consoling porter, things will not appear as bleak as they may seem now. Galway are nearer Sam, certainly, but the Championship is more about cats on hot tins roofs than the one county that can be champion – the real purpose for most counties in the Championship, as with the tabby on the slates, is to survive for as long as you can.

Mayo finished the game stronger than they started, and are still in the Championship. They were still in the Championship last year after defeat to Galway, but that happened earlier in the year and they did not leave Salthill stronger after the seventy minutes. By contrast, there is much to build on this time out, especially in contrast to the desolation of last year.

Firstly, there is the return to form of Alan Dillon. Dillon has been played all year at centre-half forward and clearly hated it. Back on wing, he was popping them over happily, and the return of Pat Harte frees Dillon up to do just that. An Spailpín has full confidence in Ronan McGarrity and Tom Parsons in midfield, and once any team has a foothold in midfield it’s a contender.

Either side of midfield remains an issue. There’s nothing new there. Aidan Higgins was magnificent when he came on, because he set about doing what should be first on every defender’s list – making his man’s life a misery. The story was that Matthew Clancy did not emerge in the second half due to an ankle injury, but An Spailpín can’t stop himself from suspecting that Sammon didn’t want to lose Clancy to a second yellow, as Higgins’ playful banter was really getting on the moptop’s nerves.

An Spailpín would like to see Liam O’Malley’s return to the colours also, for the same reason. He has a gift for being a pain in the ass. The third man who impressed when he came on was Billy Padden. There is so much criticism directed at Padden it surprises An Spailpín why he bothers sometimes, but he’ll always have something to deliver for the Green and Red. An Spailpín would play him at full-forward or full-back, somewhere where he can get busy, get on the ball and make things happen. He’s that kind of a fella.

Leaving the ground, An Spailpín was asked by a friend from the great town of Ballaghaderreen if I was going to “have another go at the Ballagh man.” I thought it unfair, not least as I didn’t have a go at the Ballagh man first time out. We might as well clear the air on this issue.

John O’Mahony remains the only man for the Mayo manager’s job. Full stop. He’s certainly made mistakes, and clearly made them yesterday, but we all make mistakes in life. It’s how we respond to those mistakes that defines us. Yesterday, when Mayo were being cut open in the first half, Johnno make the switches and Mayo were unlucky in some ways not to pull it out of the fire. Now Johnno has a fortnight or three weeks to pick through the debris, and arise from the ashes. What though the field be lost? All is not lost; Mayo are one win away from being in the same position as Galway in the All-Ireland series. Mayo can’t match Galway for talent, but the race is not always to the swift, thank God.

What O’Mahony and Mayo do have to do, however, is to maximise their resources to deliver the best efforts they can. One of the reasons that An Spailpín believes Johnno the best man for the job is because he’s the only man for the job. There is no other contender with the same credentials. Not one. There is no point in replacing a man unless you have one better to take his place, as Sammon has proved by building his team around the aging Padraic Joyce, because there’s no-one in Galway that can match him. The biggest mistake Johnno made so far was in letting men go when he was not able to replace them, thereby leaving himself some hostages to fortune as remarked in this space previously, but in life it’s never too late to deal with mistakes and make amends. Mayo have three weeks to rise again – the green and red still flies proud over the sweeping fields of heather as Reek Sunday approaches.





Technorati Tags: Ireland, sport, GAA, football, Connacht Final, Mayo, Galway

Path to Nestor Runs Through Midfield: Connacht Final 2008

An Spailpín Fánach is flattered once more to be in the pages of the Mayo News, the paper with the best sports coverage in Mayo, as the Connacht Final looms.

I’m writing about the rivalry between Galway and Mayo, and how surprisingly gentle it is. It’s played for keeps of course, and there have been some crunching hits going in (last year’s hit on Ciarán McDonald springing instantly to mind), but it certainly has never descended into anything particularly ugly. Some handbags between Gary Fahy and either Ray Dempsey or John Casey before the throw-in in Tuam eleven years ago is about the only belting that particularly comes to mind, but then Ray was always something of a mischievous sprite, please him. Please God he’ll fill the minors from the same bottle.

Football will more than likely be the winner this weekend too, with the match being decided by three factors: midfield domination, the ability to score goals, and the ability to stop goals.

It looks like advantage Mayo in midfield, not only because Tom Parsons has that marvellous to-the-manner-born air about him, but because Pat Harte is likely to wear 11. This means that if the moving rocks of Coleman and Cullinane threaten Parsons and McGarrity just as the moving rocks of the Hellespont threatened Jason and the Argonauts, then Pat Harte can be the man that comes to their rescue. Classicists will recall it was a dove that showed the way to Jason; An Spailpín is hoping that Pat can take after a doughtier class of a bird – Lizzie Borden, perhaps.

Harte’s presence at eleven may ease some of the pressure that seems to have been burdening Alan Dillon in recent years, and restore him to the wing, where he’s played his best football for Mayo. That, certainly, would be the earnest hope of the county. Ahead of them again, the management have picked the same full-forward line at every opportunity and if midfield can claim possession it’s up to them to convert that into scores. Now, now is the hour.

Not least as Galway are so incandescent with talent at the other end. Galway stand or fall on the strength of their forwards and if they slip the leash they will punish you. Cormac Bane scored two highlight reel goals against Mayo last year, and he’s been struggling to make the team this year. That says something.

Padraic Joyce is rejuvenated since he’s moved out to eleven, a man in whom all football should glory. Sad is the heart that didn’t lift to see the great man signing autographs for the faithful after the Leitrim game, smiling with the kids. Joyce without the ball is just another helpless spectator, of course, but with it, he is the destroyer of worlds. A classic in prospect.

FOCAL SCOIR: On the eve of such a sporting treat, it's good to keep perspective and remember those who might have more on their mind than who'll win the midfield breaks. As such, spare a thought on Saturday for Marie Carolan of Glencastle, who's not having a good time right now and whose uncle, Michael Carolan, will be hitting the road on Saturday in the Addidas Five Mile Race in the Phoenix Park, Dublin. You can see details on how to stump up here. Best of luck to them all.





Technorati Tags: Ireland, culture, sport, GAA, football, Mayo, Galway

An Spailpín in the Mayo News

Yesterday's piece on the pressure mounting on John O'Mahony is in this week's Mayo News, the paper that provides the the best football coverage of the Mayo papers. You can check it out here.

The Walking Shadow: McDonald Dispute Brings Johnno's D-Day One Year Early

There will be one TD on the Yes side of the house who will be serenely indifferent to this week’s recriminations and repercussions over last week’s ambush of the Lisbon referendum. John O’Mahony, Fine Gael TD for the County Mayo, knows that the people of Mayo can look on the ebb and flow of the geopolitical tide with a steady eye, but losing to Sligo can get a man run out of town on a rail.

When John O’Mahony returned as Mayo manager two years ago, he said that one of his objectives was to calm down the annual early summer frenzy of ambition and excitement that builds from Belmullet to Ballaghaderreen and all points in between as Championship approaches. In this at least, John O’Mahony has been an outstanding success, as there has seldom been a greater air of foreboding and unease on the eve of Mayo’s first game of the Championship.

A cloak of invisibility, similar to that favoured by Fionn Mac Cumhaill himself, has enveloped the county team since their final league appearance, against Tyrone in Omagh. The exchanges then were gentle, as the sides waltzed each other around Healy Park, each with eyes firmly fixed on other partners. Since then even the rumours have dried up and no word at all, good, bad or indifferent, has emerged from the camp to get the people talking outside Mass of a Sunday, or during occasions of venial sin on the preceding Saturday night.

The situation reached its nadir when Mayo played Offaly in a challenge in Doctor Hyde Park some weeks ago, a challenge about which nobody seems to know or have seen anything. Mayo turned up like a flying column, played a game that nobody seemed to know was on twenty-four before, and then disappeared back into the mist, like they were Brigadoon Sarsfields instead of one of the top eight inter-county teams in the country.

As such, it is perhaps less than surprising that the weight of pre-match discussion centres around a man who isn’t on the panel at all. Part of the reputation that John O’Mahony enjoys has to do with his image as a conciliator, a man who can pour oil on troubled waters. This year, that oil caught fire like a chip pan and left O’Mahony badly burned, as Ciarán McDonald gave an out of character interview to an national newspaper saying that he valued nothing more than wearing the green above the red, and was bitterly disappointed not to have the chance to do so this summer. It was sufficiently explosive to have John O’Mahony do an early morning interview on local radio on the day of that paper’s publication saying that nothing was set in stone and the summer is long and all the rest of it, but the damage had already been done.

Now, while news of the county team remains strictly under wraps, McDonald has been like Banquo’s ghost during his appearances with Crossmolina, dispatching Ballaghaderreen and Knockmore with some aplomb in recent times. It hasn’t got to the stage where they play Simple Minds’ Don’t You Forget About Me on the PA at the Crossmolina home games, but that step can’t be far away now.

Looking back through the years, it seems impossible to be a hero in Mayo football without being dropped or forgotten or overlooked. And the constant turning of the world means that if Mayo do catch fire this summer, and if the coming men arrive this year, then history will very quickly swallow Ciarán McDonald, just as it has McHale and Padden and Corcoran and all the rest. But in the meantime, John O’Mahony has left himself a considerable hostage to fortune is this upsetting public falling out with Mayo’s most charismatic player since Willie Joe.

When John O’Mahony was doing a radio show during John Maughan’s final year in charge it was fascinating to hear the reverence in which he was held by many of the callers. It was like he was perceived as the football equivalent of the Biblical Joseph, exiled by his own tribe only to win two All-Irelands in the land of the Pharaoh.

The spurned figure of McDonald has now blown away that mystical aura, and John O’Mahony will address his team on Sunday as a man who knows D-Day has come one year sooner than he would have liked. Eamon O’Hara and co are waiting, eager to show that their Connacht title was no fluke. It’s only the first game of the Championship, but even Johnno’s legendary political skills will be in extremis should the Yeats county men storm Mayo, and cause a terrible beauty to be born.





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