Donegal footballers reach the Promised Land

I grew up in a happy home with brothers Tony, Ted and Owen and sisters Carmel & Eileen.  Our Dad & Mama loved us and worked hard to provide us with the essentials.  Dad's sister Maggie and her husband Jimmie Doohan lived beside us in Drumnatinney.   Although their children were ten or more years older they treated us as if we were their own.     One of their loving girls Birdie wheeled me in a pram - that Dad made - to the sea-shore.  Later she nursed my infant sister Carmel.   From the time we learned to walk there were few days when we did not visit them.   Aunt Maggie ensured that we were never hungry and if the rain came she kept us overnight.   Jimmie taught me to ride on one of his quietest horses.   He thus helped to make me able to take a horse over the mountain road to a sale or show at Letterkenny when I reached ten years of age.

My only unpleasant memory of those days was having nightmares about dying.    Dad told me that I was affected by hearing of the loss of two cousins – precious sons of Aunt Maggie.   Before I was born Patrick contracted pneumonia from sleeping in wet clothes while working for a Derry farmer.    Within three years Eddie died from peritonitis in Maynooth while the surgical staff who might have saved him were on strike.   Then in 1925 the whole community were shocked by a calamity near Creeslough on a wild stormy night.   The train on the viaduct crossing the valley of Owencarrow was blown off and two men and two women were killed. 

As a schoolboy the only time I left home was when Dad took me to Glasgow to visit his brother Pat who was my favourite uncle.   Pat managed a pub there which belonged to another brother.  I was only six but I still remember my excitement standing on the deck of the big ship in Derry looking down at the cattle being driven into the hold.    On the crowded city streets I wondered at all the noisy traffic.   At the circus in the Kelvin Hall I was fascinated by the clowns, the horses and the dogs

 performing under the coloured lights in the big marquee.

To get to school or to the village of Falcarragh we had to walk nearly a mile.   It was a bit less if we went through the fields of the Ballyconnell Estate when the Kerry bull was not about.   I did not have a bicycle until I was ten.  Then I cycled the three miles to Gortahork.    Later I ventured further ..... to Gweedore, Dungloe or Burtonport or in the opposite direction to Dunfanaghy, Creeslough or Letterkenny.  When fifteen I went to Bundoran the popular seaside resort in the south of the county with Maurice Sweeney who I’m glad to say is still there.  Our mission was to see our county football team play Cavan who had just won the All Ireland for the second time.   Seamus Mac Loughlin joined us at Donegal town where he was working in a pub.

  My first venture out of the county was to Dublin in 1937 with Seamus and Maurice's brother John.  We were anxious to see the All Ireland football final between Cavan and Kerry.    We set out at dawn on Friday with bags to carry puncture repair-kit, buttered bread,  boiled eggs and tin-mugs for water.   About midnight we rested in a hay-barn on the Tyrone border near Aughnacloy.   Before the farmer woke up we were on the bikes again.   Near Drogheda we found another barn.   We managed the last thirty miles to Croke Park on Sunday and found room on the side-line before the kick-off.   After the match - which ended in a draw -  we went to see the lights of O'Connell Street before setting out for our "bed" at Drogheda.    It was late on Monday when we found the one at Aughnacloy again.     We did not complete the 360 miles return trip until the early hours of Wednesday.   My poor worrying mother remembered me falling into bed and staying there till Friday afternoon. 

   

Seventy five years later I was amazed when I considered that I was still following the fortunes of Donegal football.   They had progressed to becoming champions for the first time in 1992 when I had gone back to Dublin to see the match. In 2012 I heard that the final was being televised at the Irish club in Leeds.  Simon was delighted to drive Jane, Charley and myself.  The Hall was packed – mainly with Donegal supporters wearing green and Mayo people wearing red.  Mayo had not won for many years and most neutrals were cheering for them.  The game was fiercely contested right from the throw-in.  I pitied the ref.  When three or four were jumping for the same ball it was quite impossible to know whether the most aggressive was wearing red or green.  Murphy the Donegal captain seemed most ready for action.  In the third minute as a high ball landed in the square he brushed his marker aside and slammed it into the roof of the net.  Then Colm McFadden added a point and goal within the next eight minutes.  This left Mayo with a mountain to climb.  To their credit they fought back and continued to pick up points.  But the two McGees from Gweedore and all the defenders, the midfielders, as well as ChristyToye and the other reserves who came on to relieve those who had given their all and indeed every member of the squad can be proud of their tremendous efforts.  The final whistle went with the score at 2 goals and 11 points to 13 points in a sea of green flags flying in the breeze.  Great credit is due to Manager Jim McGuinness for the belief, discipline and determination he had instilled into every member of his squad.  The Mayo team and their supporters took their defeat in a sporting manner.  In the Irish club they shook our hands and wished us good luck.  It is they who deserve a change of luck because they have lost in ten finals.