When the athletes looked out across the crowd, even the statues were punching the air.
From his plinth in front of them in the middle of O’Connell Street, big Jim Larkin’s arms were raised aloft.
Everyone was celebrating when Ireland’s Olympic heroes arrived home.
They got an enormous welcome.
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The athletes deserved it. We deserved it too.
Hard to believe this was the first time Dublin laid on a civic reception for an Irish team returning from the Olympic Games. As Monday’s huge turnout in O’Connell Street proved yet again, we just love an excuse to don the green and have a national knees-up.
This exuberant lunchtime homecoming had all the colour and joyous fun of St Patrick’s Day at the GPO, but without the street drinking and the drizzle.
For children, it was a brilliant way to round off the summer holidays – cheering their hearts out as their new (and not so new) sporting idols appeared onstage, holding up those gleaming Olympic medals and holding out a dream.
So many little girls and little boys in the crowd looking up to them and thinking: “That could be me, someday”.
The crowd started arriving well in advance of the advertised start. It was a hot, humid day and the long wait to see the team took its toll on some spectators as the afternoon unfolded and they wilted in the heat.
Finally, it was time. The moment everyone had been waiting for.
Joint MC Marty Morrissey said the magic words.
“It’s the Taoiseach, ladies and gentlemen!”
Oh.
Along with a fully chained up Lord Mayor of Dublin, a low-key Minister of State for Sport (Thomas Byrne told us he was “trying not to do a Shane Ross and get in all the photos”) and a slightly star-struck Minister for Integration, Roderic O’Gorman. Roderic whipped out his phone to photograph Simon Harris talking to Marty, who was positively glowing.
The Taoiseach sounded giddy with excitement, gulping for breath as he rattled out words at Olympian speed. “On your behalf, I just want to say a massive thank you to these men and women who have inspired our nation,” he cried.
“They have lit a flame in all of the young people across Ireland ... who now believe that they can be the very best in the world. That they can represent Ireland and win medals. That’s what they’ve done.”
Which is true, judging by the keen-as-mustard chorus of youthful squeals delivered in wholehearted agreement.
Young people such as Nessa Moloney (12), who travelled up from Aherlow in Tipperary with her mam Martina and dad Stuart, her sister Doireann and her cousin Ciara, were daring to dream now.
Nessa held up the poster she drew, of 400m runner Sharlene Mawdsley surrounded by flags and the Eiffel Tower, a big “Congratulations” and a “Tiobraid Árann Abú”.
Sharlene, of course, hails from Tipp but Nessa thinks all the members of the relay team are great. “I love them all. They’re so incredible”.
She has joined her local club Mooreabbey Milers AC and enjoys cross-country running.
She would love to be an Olympian one day.
There may have been four gold medal winners in O’Connell Street on Monday afternoon but the most gold by a large margin was around the Lord Mayor’s neck. James Geoghegan was possibly even more hyped-up than Harris. He took the microphone and started bellowing Olé, Óle, Olé until the politicians were finally ushered away.
The roll-call of honour began, with Marty and his co-host Joanne Cantwell taking it in turns to interview batches of athletes from different disciplines.
Double gold medallist Kellie “Kell-E! Kell-E!” Harrington, her long glossy hair clipped back and wearing sunglasses, led the boxers into the green-tinted limelight.
The crowd roared for her, but also for all the team of young boxers who performed in Paris.
“This is absolutely amazing,” she marvelled, on the first leg of a homecoming of two halves. Later in the evening she would be feted by her neighbours and friends on a jubilant lap of honour around Portland Row, the north inner city street where she was born and bred and which still calls home.
“From the bottom of every one of our hearts, it really does mean the world to us.”
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The crowd stretched from the platform at the GPO right down past the Abbey Street junction. And overhead, some lucky spectators watched from the upper floors of buildings on O’Connell Street, adding to the Tricolour count from above.
Everyone roared in appreciation of the women’s 400m relay team, and then the same again for bronze medallist Mona McSharry, still on cloud nine since her mighty performance in the swimming pool.
On top of every other wonderful achievement, she said this joyful homecoming was “a dream come true”.
A lot of the girls in the crowd wore big white bows in their hair, following the style of Rhasidat Adeleke.
Gymnast Rhys McClenaghan got a big ovation when he took to the stage by walking up the steps, which was rather disappointing as we were hoping the pommel horse gold medallist might vault up them and do a couple of 360-degree turns on the handrail on his way.
Rower Fintan McCarthy, another back-to-back gold medal winner, hinted at a medal tilt in a different category at the 2028 Los Angeles Games. On a non-sporting note, many admirers were pointing out that he’s the spit of actor Matt Damon.
Daniel Wiffen, the swimmer who took home a gold and a bronze, charmed the crowd with his laid-back and lighthearted approach to his stunning success. Along with his colleagues, he happily posed for selfies with members of the crowd before returning to the stage to retrieve his jacket and revisit the microphone.
“Thank you for coming” he shouted to the fans happily basking in the glow of the team’s record success. “I just wanted to say ... Olé, Olé, Olé ...”
And that set everyone off again.
Aaron Keating (10) from Tallaght was wrapped in the Tricolour he got when he made his First Communion. “I got everyone to sign it and I’ve brought it to loads of places since then. I write them on to the flag,” he said, pointing to signatures from Spike Island and the Titanic. All the Shamrock Rovers players have signed it too.
He was hoping some Olympians might sign his flag. “I’d love to be in the Olympics.”
Aaron’s dad Stephen certainly deserved a medal.
“He sat on me shoulders for three hours,” he said, before pointing to his seven-year-old son, Ciaran. “And he sat on me feet.”
The hats and flags were selling steadily. Jackie, who had a pitch on the corner of Abbey Street, said the green, white and orange bucket hats were “flying out” at a tenner each because people needed something for their heads in the sunshine. The two small flags for a fiver were also proving popular because the young wans were sticking them into their bopper hairbands.
She was hoping the sale of the Kellie “reges” would pick up later, although she reckoned most people around Portland Row probably had all the merch already because there are a lot of street traders in the community. These are registration plate- sized plaques, hence the name, she explained.
The celebration ended with a beautiful rendition of the ballad Grace from Dublin singer Róisín O. This is Harrington’s party piece and the song she sang after winning the title again.
As the song is about the execution of Joseph Mary Plunkett in 1916, it’s hardly the perfect ditty for a party, although there is something uniquely Irish about a crowd happily singing “then take me out at dawn and I will die” at the end of a massive celebration.
And in the spirit of sport and noble endeavour and the dreams of future Olympians, the crowd dispersed and immediately mobbed the big new Decathlon sports shop in the Clerys building.
Not really. But they were out the door in Supermacs and McDonald’s.
Outside the GPO, we overheard two young boys having a heated discussion about the size of Kellie’s gold medal.
“I saw it, so I did. And it’s definitely bigger than a digestive biscuit.”
