A day for the diehards 

When we met Billy and Frances McNicholas in the Silverbirch Hotel in Omagh, the well-known Mayo GAA coach told the five of us that we had brought to 62 the number of Mayo fans he had spotted since arriving in the town ahead of the Tyrone game.

“Surely we will get to treble figures,” he quipped. 

All around, we saw plenty of dyed-in-the-wool Mayo fans. Tom Maloney from Bohola, over from London, a journey he makes for virtually every single game. PJ Hughes from Crossmolina, one of the finest Gaels in our great county. I met one fan who flew from London to Belfast, got the bus to Omagh and was getting a bus to Sligo and a lift home to Mayo for the rest of the bank holiday weekend before returning to London. Renowned broadcaster Michael Commins and his son Tommy were in Croke Park to support the hurlers in their agonising defeat to Roscommon in the Nicky Rickard Final before hot-tailing it to Omagh and home again that night.

We met Marty, Andrea and Mikey Kilbane who had ventured all the way from Pollagh at the western end of Achill Island as well as Bríd and Raymond Cattigan who travelled from Currane – those journeys were an eight-hour round trip.

The decision to pencil in a 7pm throw-in time in Omagh was utterly ignorant of the long journey home for Mayo fans but for the hardcore fans, it was but one more hurdle that simply would have to be jumped.

It was a strange build-up. In Omagh we couldn’t find many Mayo people confident of victory. Plenty were confident of a performance, a response to the Cavan display, but unsure where that would take Mayo on the night.

There was something very endearing about that. People travelled more in hope than expectation. Some with little enough hope, either. But they still travelled, they went to Tyrone to support their team, to stand with them, to keep the faith. These are not sunshine supporters but true blues, people that won’t show the white feather. Faithful and loyal.

And it was fitting that it was such a concentration of these supporters that were in Omagh to witness a result so few of us predicted.

We’re not sure what final tally Billy McNicholas got to but we guestimate there may have been in or around 1,000 Mayo fans there.

I will hold my hands up – it wasn’t just the Mayo game that brought us to Omagh.

My mother’s late father was from Omagh. His name was Hughie McGartland. He came to Castlebar around 1930 to work as a barber and set up his own barber shop on Castle Street, where Joyce’s discount store is now. He was best known as a passionate and hard-working soccer administrator, serving as secretary of Castlebar Celtic for close on 40 years.

He wasn’t a huge fan of the GAA as it happens, quite the opposite, having seen Celtic lose players over the years due to the GAA ban on ‘foreign’ sports.

He died eight years before I was born but his memory has always been kept alive and my mother has stayed in regular contact with her cousins in Omagh.

So when the draw for the group stages pitched us with a trip to Tyrone, I thought it an ideal opportunity for a family break to visit cousins and booked a house for three generations (my mother, my sister, myself and my oldest two kids).

Frankie (8) and Éamon (6) are getting really into football, both playing with Achill and going to Mayo games. I was seven in 1989 when my own odyssey started and it’s lovely to see them so into it too. Their younger brother Séimí (4) is a bit on the young side yet. He stayed at home with Aisling but it won’t be long until the five of us are venturing to games.

Frankie and, particularly, Éamon love discovering new places and new counties. While Frankie was in Spain when she was the only child, Éamon has yet to be on a plane. He is obsessed with geography, counties, countries etc and the trip to Omagh was his first time in Ulster.

The short little strip of Leitrim we passed through before Bundoran blew his mind (we timed it as two minutes and 42 seconds!) and both were thrilled when we crossed into Donegal and Ulster.

As we crossed the border from Donegal into Fermanagh at Belleek, Éamon let an excited shout out, ‘yay, we’re in the United Kingdom!’ As far as he was concerned, it was his first time in another country. I tried to explain how it might not be the best thing to declare out loud outside of the car but trying to explain the nuance of this aspect of history to a six-year-old isn’t straightforward. Plus, thinking he was in another country for the first time in his life, he wasn’t overly keen on listening.

Frankie interjected to say ‘Éamon, England stole Northern Ireland from Ireland’. Job done.

They were both in their element getting to go to their game with their grandmother and auntie but the 7pm throw-in came back to haunt us. Frankie hit a wall of exhaustion and the shouts of fans around her wasn’t helping. Darragh Canavan’s goal precipitated bellowing cheers from the Tyrone fans. She couldn’t cope any longer so my sister Ruth took her out and brought her into the clubhouse beside Healy Park, where they watched the rest of the game.

So they became surely the only two Mayo fans to go all the way to Omagh to watch Mayo win on TV! While there a local man the worse for wear came their way and gifted Frankie £10. That and a bottle of Fanta wasn’t long sorting out the tiredness and both of them got out onto the field afterwards kicking football (this is one of the big draws for them to games).

Éamon got a picture with young Mayo star Conal Dawson while Frankie got a picture with Niall Morgan (Éamon refused to stand in with a Tyrone player!). Both were brilliant with them and had them feeling ten feet tall afterwards.

I’ve witnessed how good players are with kids seeking photos and autographs over the years but the impact really comes home to you when you see your own reveling in it.

All around us the Mayos who made the journey were basking in the delight of a result so few of us saw coming. Those of us who decided to stay the night waited around Healy Park and soaked it all up. Those who were heading back had the journey home considerably shortened for them.

The performance and win in Omagh was a reward for the players and management, first and foremost, particularly after a challenging time with Kevin McStay having to step back as manager due to ill health, but it was fitting to see true blues there able to savour it.

Where we will be after the Donegal game in Roscommon remains to be seen.

You just never know where Mayo football will take you, in every sense. Fasten your seatbelts because you can be sure of one thing – it always be one hell of a journey.