I grew up in 1970s Dublin within earshot of Croke Park. In the recently-aired documentary about the Dublin footballer and manager Kevin Heffernan, there is footage of 7-year-old me marching across Luke Kelly Bridge with my sister, brothers, and the rest of Heffo's Army on the way to the 1974 All-Ireland Final.
We grew up in a golden age for Dublin football, and as members of St Vincent’s GAA club, the heroes we watched on Sunday were the men who coached us on Saturday morning. Dublin was pretty grim in the 1970s and 80s but the footballers of Dublin and Vincent’s made it a better place, and provided us with wonderful role models.
I moved to the US in 2000, following in the footsteps of three of my brothers. We are now spread from Boston to Denver to San Francisco. I followed the Dubs as best I could and endured a barren period as we failed to make it to an All-Ireland Final from 1995 to 2011. Dublin contested their first All-Ireland in 16 years in 2011 and I returned home with my brothers to witness the end to the famine.
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Ma is from Carlow but with over 60 years in Dublin she has gained honorary Dubs status, and is a great woman for flying the flag outside the house on match days. The greatest gift she gave us was our love for sport; she was at every match we played and always took great pride in our achievements big and small.
She still lives in the house we grew up in on Addison Road in Fairview, so that was the gathering point before the big final that year. The frying pan got great usage that morning as the clan gathered ahead of the game. As well as brothers and sister we were joined by cousins, nephews and nieces. It was such a pleasure to see Ma at the centre of it all surrounded by family, especially her sons home from America. She revelled in the craic as the excitement rose when throw in time approached.
I went to the match with my sister Ger, and will never forget the scenes of joy as the ghosts of 16 years of failure were exorcised. The fact that the win was against our biggest rival Kerry made the victory even sweeter. We celebrated long and hard, Monday was spent in Kavanagh's in Marino with friends and members of the team. We also got to celebrate again in November when the team came to Boston along with the Sam Maguire.
Thankfully in the years since 2011, Dublin and St Vincent’s have contested, and won, several All-Irelands. Each one has been an occasion for me and my brothers to return to Dublin and spend time with family and friends. We will return again this weekend, flights are booked and the hunt for tickets is on in earnest.
We will gather in the kitchen of Addison Road on September 18th and eat our fill of sausages, rashers, pudding, and eggs. We will be there for the All-Ireland but we will also be there for each other and for Ma. She will once again enjoy having her family around her and share in the joy we all take from following a successful Dublin team.
As emigrants in, or rapidly approaching, our 50s my brothers and I are too well aware of the necessity of trips home for sad occasions. But our visits over the last few years to watch and celebrate the footballers of St Vincent’s and Dublin together have driven home to us the absolute necessity of travelling home for happy occasions too.
