It's hard to resist the lure of a Connacht Final

I had my mind made up that I would not go to the Connacht Final. It would be too much hassle and I did not expect much from Mayo. 

The first thing to be said is that I went and was pleasantly surprised that Mayo could have and might have denied Galway their four-in-a-row. The point that should have been a two-pointer (the ball was over the bar before the Galway goalie touched it - one of the daft downsides to the new rules) would have given Mayo the lead and might have been the boost that would have spurred the players on to greater things. Alas, it was not to be.

As I said, I had my mind made up, but the Connacht Final is, after all, the Connacht Final and Galway is the auld enemy and MacHale Park is only over the road and despite the inconvenience of dragging a back brace and walking stick to the venue, I underwent, like Paul on the road to Damascus, a bit of a conversion. I changed my mind. It is not just a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. A man, without having to explain or apologise, can do so as well.

One of my minders went online to get the tickets. I would never get to a game if it was left to myself to get tickets nowadays. Online my ar-backside. I don’t see why I cannot pay at the turnstiles. It doesn’t have to be cash, I can use a card. The argument against cash is to eliminate fiddling by the turnstile operators. I may be naïve but my view is that much of the so-called fiddling was greatly exaggerated. The GAA, like most other organisations, continues to put obstacles in the way of older people attending games. But enough cribbing!

Thinking of my comfort, I got stand tickets. It was a mistake. I normally occupy the area at the back of the Bacon Factory goal. From there, even with my declining eyesight, I have a good view of half the pitch and get an overview of the backs or forwards in the first/second halves. In the stand the comfort was better but the view was distant. I could not even keep up with all the wrestling matches that broke out sporadically around the pitch. The sun shone, the wind, pretty strong, favoured Galway in the opening half. Yet it was Mayo who made what could only be termed a dream start. A goal and two points in the opening minutes. The dream turned into a nightmare fairly soon as Galway started shooting the two-pointers.

A walking stick is a valuable addition when attending a game that attracts the hustle and bustle of a Connacht Final with 25,000 people. Supporters are good. On the way in they give the walking stick a wide berth so as not to inconvenience the user. Vacating the stand, from way up at the back, the walking stick is recognised and a lady, a very caring lady in white, allowed the stick out onto the steps and ensured that there was no crush coming from the rear. It is great to see such manners and thoughtfulness at our games.

You have already read the reports and views of the sports experts on the game and, it is of no consequence, but I never had the feeling that Mayo were going to win. Galway were in control and playing within themselves. Whenever they needed to get up the field for a score they appeared to do so with ease. They had a number of scoring forwards and midfielders who were relaxed in front of the posts and generally finished clinically. That observation is in no way to disparage the efforts of the Mayo defenders who were herculean in the work of containment. On the other hand, up front, Mayo had to struggle for scores.

The team now goes into the round robin series and have been lumped with the most difficult opponents around. We have three Ulster teams to contend with and not even the new rules will free the Cavan, Tyrone and Armagh/Donegal (I’m writing this before the Ulster Final) teams from the negative approach that is now ingrained in the Ulster football psyche. 

Will I go to see Cavan in Castlebar? I’m not sure. Am I simply prolonging the agony? When you are beaten in the championship that should be the end of it.

Sometimes I think I’m getting soft. There was a time when the Western People’s women’s mini-marathon would pass me by without so much as a second thought, but reading about the event has made me think. First of all, it is wonderful to think that so many young and not-so-young ladies are prepared to get out there and go through the pain and suffering of completing the 10k course. For very many participants the outing is about wellness, the preparation and training for the event, the exhilaration of taking part and the satisfaction of finishing. The event is supported by the Mayo Sports Partnership whose ambition is to “have more people enjoying more sports”. They are succeeding admirably.

For some, it is about doing for family and friends who are unable to take part, for some remembering those who have departed this life. It is about fundraising for a multitude of worthy charities. For others it is personal. A personal challenge, a private motivation to achieve a long-held and abiding desire to repair a hurt, imagined or real or perhaps in thanksgiving for a blessing.

Then, for others, it is about achieving, about being first across the finish line. First across the finishing line in this year’s event was a 15-year-old pocket-rocket Freya Renton. Running must run in the Renton family as her sister Holly finished fourth. 

I admit to being envious of people who can run. There was a time when I was fighting fit, I could run for short bursts, which was fine for football, but if I was brought on a long run my tongue would be hanging out within seconds. The problem was that I could not control my breathing. And still can’t.

So you can see why I might be envious of Paula Donnellan-Walsh. Her column is an easy read, she makes running seem effortless. She can belt along a ten-mile promenade in Lanzarote, meet up and converse easily with other early morning joggers, sometimes total strangers, and be at her lodgings refreshed and looking forward to the day by breakfast time. It surely must be one of the best ways to get your daily fix. Then, of course, having warmed up, why not go for an early morning run in the hills. What better way to start your day. 

Of course, you don’t have to be on holidays in the Canaries to enjoy running. For those who find that running/jogging comes easily, it can be just as pleasurable taking part in the women’s half marathon, the upcoming Achill half marathon or any number of similar events across the country.

Now, where did I leave those shorts and vest and runners?

Thought for the day

If you live long enough you will get old - Tom McHale