In praise of Mayo's magnificent centurion

In praise of Mayo's magnificent centurion

Aidan O'Shea of Mayo celebrates after his side's victory in the Allianz Football League Division 1 match between Donegal and Mayo at MacCumhaill Park in Ballybofey, Donegal in 2023. Picture: Ramsey Cardy/Sportsfile

That was some bloodbath in Killarney. A battle for the ages, no less. One of the great things about being old is that one can recall real battles. When I saw the Donegal player who was savaged, by God knows who, coming out of the tunnel for the second half, I was reminded somewhat about the Viking days of Willie Joe. 

Our upcoming opponents Tyrone were also involved in Croke Park when Willie Joe hit the headlines for his new-fangled headwear.

The thing was Willie Joe went off for running repairs and came back into the game with his head bandaged. He played on and contributed. The Donegal player came out for the second half to sit in the stand. Well, that was an understandable precaution. He had received an injury to his head. There was a lot of blood and with the current concern around head injuries it was left to people to conjecture there might have been a bit of a concussion. But then, later on, the player was thrown into the fray in what seemed to be a daft, if not irresponsible, decision.

What went on in Killarney was a disgrace but just as disgraceful was the intemperate commentary indulged in by the media.

The print media showed some caution in reporting, but it was open season for the socialites who air their views on platforms. Two great footballers, one past his prime but with nuisance value and one in his prime with much to offer, were castigated as if their personal reputations had no value. We have arrived at a sorry pass. I certainly expect more from GAA people. Generally speaking, they are decent or have been and perhaps people should declare their allegiance and agenda before castigating amateur players.

'Bertie the racist '

You would have to feel sorry for poor auld Bertie. He can’t help it that, despite everything, he remains popular within Fianna Fáil, especially amongst those dreaded backwoods men and women (don’t forget!), loosely referred to as the grassroots. He is not responsible for the fact that the very mention of his name drives the current Taoiseach into paroxysms of despair.

Bertie can’t help it that many people thought he would be a fine Fianna Fáil candidate for the presidency. He cannot have been any worse than Micheál Martin’s man and who knows, he might have put it up to Catharine Connolly. The Irish electorate is peculiar. They tend to give credit for achievement and Bertie could claim some credit for bringing a bit of sanity to Northern Ireland and releasing Sinn Féin from the stranglehold the IRA exercised over them during the understated Troubles.

Everybody who knows Bertie knows that he is not a racist. Many people who claim to know Bertie because they have seen him in action in the Dáil, or having a pint in Fagan's or just noting his unassuming personality can quite easily reject the notion of him being a racist. The Taoiseach knows that Bertie is not a racist but he could not come out unequivocally and say that, without making reference to Bertie’s comments while in pursuit of a vote. Bertie, being unassuming, is quite innocent and it would never have dawned on him that some cunning voter might be recording him with nefarious intent in mind.

Sure, even the Muslim community know that Bertie does not have a racist bone in his body. They don’t hide behind decorum when it comes to extending the hand of welcome to a friend in trouble. Inviting Bertie to join their community for the celebration of Eid al-adha in Croke Park could be seen as a master stroke, but I would see it as a gesture of friendship to a man who has been a friend to the Muslims in North Dublin for years. Well, if not a friend, at least he is not trying to run them out of the country, unlike some others who campaigned in Dublin Central recently.

I don’t know about you, but I took some joy out of Bertie’s welcome by the grand Imam Umar al Qadri whose message to the faithful was one of welcome, forgiveness, neighbourliness and an end to hatred. I also felt a warm glow about Croke Park, not something I feel very much nowadays watching football. It is not, of course, the first time the festival was held in Croke Park. The tradition started in 2002 (it was interrupted by Covid) and is now a regular fixture.

There are those who oppose the use of Croke Park for the festival. There are the bigots who feel the Muslim ceremony was a desecration of the sacred sod. Imagine young kids, with their parents, frolicking around on the lush green grass of Croke Park! And people object. I imagine the objectors might never have stood in the famous arena but their prejudice and their hatred leads them to preach desecration.

And, that was then and this is now, when hatred and intolerance of Muslims and indeed other immigrant and religious minorities has grown, fanned by an even greater minority of idiots, mostly home-grown but some imported. Just as it is disgraceful to have these bigots elected to high office, it is good to see that the Croke Park authorities and the supporters of Gaelic games have the openness and the courage (it does take some courage in the face of misguided bigotry) to welcome Eid to the hallowed grass of our national stadium.

We’ve had Muslims play in Croke Park (Gaelic, of course, winning All Irelands) and I won’t go so far as the suggest that Croke Park might offer to host the next Ireland cricket game against Pakistan in the stadium, but wouldn’t it be a nice gesture. We’ve had rugby and soccer so it would be proper to have the third “foreign game” back in the fold. And for added value it would drive the bigots up the walls!

The centurion 

Hail the centurion.

Aidan O’Shea has hit one hundred 

A colossus at nineteen, son of Jim and Sheila, 

Proud Breaffy man and Mayo prodigy.

Master of the Gaelic playing fields 

Lord of the football skies, 

Mayo’s air traffic controller 

And winner of dirty ground ball.

He perfected his sleight of hand in Sligo.

Converted free-taker on the right 

Curling over with the ciotóg.

Captain fantastic, three All Stars, 

Eight senior Connachts, U21 and Minor, 

Innumerable FBDs 

And critics say he never won anything.

A target man for his team mates 

And also for mischievous opponents.

A favourite of the budding football children 

Boys and girls sought him out.

He never left them short, 

He gave them his time and his autograph 

Much to the chagrin of his detractors 

Who took offence at his authenticity.

He strode the Gaelic fields of Ireland, 

A giant in football boots of varied hue 

Dominating the skies, lifting the spirits of his people.

And carrying the opposition on his back.

Maligned by begrudgers and trolls 

Unfit to lace his boots.

Denied his due by inept referees 

He carried himself with distinction 

Accepting victory and defeat with poise 

A modest man of considerable charisma.

One hundred championship appearances 

And more to come.

Maith thú Aidan. Maigh Éo abú 

Thought for the day 

“I think that I shall ever be, A poet in a lovely tree.” Anon

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