A place where spirits old and new mix easily

Country Living with Francis Farragher

IN the fading light of October’s first day, there was really something mesmeric about the atmosphere in Croke Park last Saturday evening.

When the old venue is filled on All-Ireland final day, it really is a place where ghosts of the past century or so mingle seamlessly with the efforts of young athletes to win the greatest title in the land.

Croker needs to be filled to get the hairs standing on the back on the neck, but when it is and the game is tight, there is no leaving the seat, apart from involuntary gestures when the net is rattled.

On Saturday evening as I sat in the middle rows of the Cusack Stand, with ‘Mayos’ to one and Dubs to the other, I have to concede to a jump from the seat when Lee Keegan rocketed the ball to the corner of Stephen Cluxton’s net after Aidan O’Shea had done the donkey work.

In one few seconds of play, nearly around 35,000 Dublin supporters had been silenced, while a delirium spread through the same number of Mayo fans, that was quite uncontrollable.

There was no let-up in the emotional rollercoaster through the day. Keegan’s goal gave Mayo the edge . . . Diarmuid Connolly’s wickedly struck penalty handed it back to Dublin . . . and from there to the end, a dream of 65 years waiting,  survived until the very last seconds of the game.

There was a distinctly eerie feeling walking out of Croke Park shortly before 7pm towards Quinn’s Pub and the Drumcondra Rail Station, where it was almost exclusively Mayo supporters on the street.

Our little Galway group, were engaging in the usual on-street, post-match analysis but to a man, woman and child, the Mayo supporters just weren’t talking. They were silent . . . numbed . . . and one felt, that with many of them, tears weren’t far from the eyes.

In the background, the sounds of the Croke Park cheers were beginning to wane a fraction but they could still be heard. Without being able to make out the words, the cheers told us when Stephen Cluxton had traipsed up the steps to the presentation table and there was the explosion of sound when the cup was lifted. For the Mayo supporters it was like the sounding of the Last Post for a dead soldier.

All in the one go, Croke Park is one of the most joyous places in the planet for the winners and one of the most desolate for the losers, but such is the nature of sport. As  the old saying goes: “For every joy, there’s a sorrow.”

Back in the 1980s there was talk of ‘The Bertie Bowl’ and consideration of the GAA moving to a new greenfield site, but it was probably a wiser move to stay in their spiritual home.

For more, read this week’s Connacht Tribune.