Mayo rise and stumble and rise again

Mayo has always had a fondness for a struggle. It’s stitched into the jersey and woven into the sod beneath MacHale Park. It's all the county has ever known. Mayo doesn’t just flirt with chaos – they bring it home, pour it a mug of tea and ask if it wants a Custard Cream on the side.

Sunday afternoon was never going to be any different. For long spells, Mayo looked to be taking the scenic route to a league final, strolling to Croke Park again without any fuss or frenzy. But as is their wont, the easy path was treated with suspicion, and quickly discarded.

Donegal found their bite, results elsewhere grew teeth of their own, and suddenly Mayo were glancing over their shoulder at the trapdoor to Division 2. It would have been a fitting end, some may have felt, given many had assumed Mayo were destined for the drop from the outset. But the county has a peculiar knack for unearthing heroics in moments of apparent doom.

And so, from the jaws of relegation, Mayo wriggled free and climbed not just to safety, but to the summit of the table like Maximus Decimus Meridius rising from the dust of the Colosseum.

Are you not entertained?

The breeze in Castlebar wasn’t so much unhelpful as downright hostile. And in the first-half as it blew into the faces of Mayo players, it was ripe with potential calamity. The opening quarter felt like Mayo were climbing a mountain with lead in their boots while Donegal skipped about as if they’d parked the team bus at the summit.

But then came a flicker. And from that flicker came a flame. Enda Hession, who rampaged up the field at every opportunity, spotted Ryan O’Donoghue slipping in behind his man and dutifully delivered a neat pass into his path. The Belmullet man squared it to Jack Carney, who tucked it away to welcome Mayo back into the contest.

The Kilmeena man followed it up with a fine point before Frank Irwin then nudged the hosts ahead, which felt like a small miracle given the light gale they faced. But Carney wasn’t finished. As the half headed into its final moments, he found himself isolated in the Sportlann corner of the field. Unwilling to be dispossessed by approaching Donegal bodies, he swung a boot at the ball and watched it sail between the uprights. It had shades of an Andy Moran corker in Salthill a couple of years ago – a score of instinct, not instruction.

By the time the half-time whistle went, Mayo had done more than could’ve been expected of them in the conditions. They’d passed the toughest test with flying colours and could take a deep breath.

Alas, Mayo doesn’t see adversity as an obstacle – it’s more of a familiar drinking buddy. And so the side resorted back into old ways and stumbled into the second-half. The breeze, now at their backs, was supposed to be a blessing. Instead, it almost seemed to befuddle them. It gave way to a rise in Donegal confidence and soon, Eoin McHugh found himself strolling through Mayo’s defence to lash a ball past Colm Reape.

Jim McGuinness’ side, who apparently had no interest in winning the game, were suddenly moving with menace. Shortly after McHugh’s maximum, Finbarr Roarty nearly netted a second but blazed over instead of putting Reape to the test.

Mayo’s response was nervous and delayed but it eventually arrived via two rare and much-needed two-pointers, both of which came from O’Donoghue. Still, the mood in Castlebar was uneasy. News from Kerry, Armagh and Tyrone filtered through the stand and painted a grim picture. The crowd, caught between watching the pitch and refreshing their phones, hummed with a nervous energy that could’ve powered the floodlights.

Mayo were squandering the luxury of the wind at their backs, like a man who wins the Lotto and spends it on scratch cards. Sloppy passes, dropped shots and handling errors began to creep into their game. Mattie Ruane briefly settled the nerves with another sweetly struck two-pointer only for the home side to resort back to the chaos. Donegal won a penalty. Reape saved it. Then came a thundering shot off the bar. The Division 2 welcome party went digging for red and green bunting.

And yet Mayo somehow survived. It was both improbable and entirely typical. And not only did they dodge relegation, they finished the league campaign at the summit of the table.

Mayo finishing the spring at the top of the tree is a plot twist that would’ve been laughed out of the room at the start of the campaign. In most counties, that kind of turnaround might trigger giddy talk of All-Ireland finals. In Mayo, for all its reputation as a county that loses the run of itself, it has earned a cautious nod. They've been here before, after all.

Nobody is getting carried away on this occasion. This isn’t the first time Mayo have flickered brightly in spring only to be found wanting when the sun comes out. A league title, if it comes, won’t be taken as proof of a long summer in store. But that’s not to say it wouldn’t mean something. Confidence is hard-earned and easily lost – and for a side still under construction, winning does no harm.

There are green shoots, even if they’re half-hidden in the mud. New leaders are emerging. Familiar names are regaining rhythm. The team is still uneven, still unpredictable – but that, too, is part of the Mayo way. You can never be entirely sure where this road leads.

Mayo has never sought the straight road nor the smooth climb. They’ll take the scenic route, the wrong turn, and the occasional tumble through a hedge. They’ll keep going. Struggle is in the stitching.

Chaos is part of their charm. And if it turns up again next weekend, they’ll pour it a mug of tea — and offer it a Custard Cream.