Keith Duggan talks to Coman Goggins who, ignored at underage level, has taken the scenic route to the Dublin captaincy
The captain as a Dub...
There was never any loyalty clash for him, never any identity crisis. Summer holidays meant the Journey, back to his folks' childhood country in the west. Strokestown, with its vast main street and historical sturdiness, was a good place for youngsters. He would kick football with the local kids, a curiosity from the city, and play games in the grounds of Park House, the magnificent and empty testimony to tenant times.
Strokestown was where both his parents grew up. His mother went to England to pursue her education, his father to Dublin to begin working. They made a home there and began rearing a family and immersed themselves in city life. Coman's father became a founder member of Ballinteer GAA club and as soon as he started walking, his son knew what he was about.
"I'm a Dub through and through, absolutely. My father will talk football 'til the cows come home and it was natural to become interested given his involvement. We used go to games in Roscommon when we were young but he also took us to see Dublin from a very early age. You'd start out in the stand - you would be able to skip over the turnstiles in those days, it was never an issue, and sit on someone's lap. But then, soon and you were big enough, you'd be on the Hill. Jumpin' up and down to have a look. You wouldn't be able to see half the time but it was just being there."
The captain as a trialist . . .
Goggins wasn't fashion. His was not a name that rang through various clubhouses across suburbia as the latest saviour of Dublin football. He wasn't even on the map. His minor years came and passed him by. The under-21 selectors never called him. Coman just kept playing and enjoying the game, delighted with himself for making it as far as the Dublin juniors.
"I really enjoyed it because it meant you got to play in Croke Park, which everyone wants to do. At the back of your mind, not playing underage, you do wonder if you have missed your chance or if it was ever going to come." He was in the pub when the call came through, having a couple with his brother when his mother landed down. Told him John O'Leary was looking to talk to him.
"And I was there, 'yeah, sure, Ma, you're gassin.' This was before everyone had mobile phones. So I went up and called back and John said there was a challenge game in Louth the next morning and they wanted me to play in it. I couldn't believe it. I went to bed straightaway, got up the next morning and played the game." And, of course, got injured shortly afterwards. The one break he was waiting for and he couldn't use it, sidelined from October until the New Year.
"And Tommy Carr might have said, okay, we will look at you again, thanks. But he kept me there and I will always remember that. You are just glad to be part of the scene. But to find myself on the championship team that summer was something else entirely." From there, he hasn't looked back. Making it has remained a bit of a mystery to him.
"I don't know where they saw me or why they called me up then. Countless fellas could have played for Dublin. There are loads of lads out there with talent to burn. The difference, I think, is maybe a bit of intelligence. The presence, the ability to get rid of the ball that second or two quicker. It's a small thing. Because there are a lot of fellas out there that would be so good."
The captain on fans . . .
Like a million other people, young Coggins was at the Dublin-Meath death dance in 1991. Like a million other young fellas. Paul Curran was his hero. "Fancied meself as a wing back. But I don't get out there much any more."
He was 18 in 1995, the summer of love for Dublin GAA followers. "So I was allowed," he laughs.
"We used start early in those days. By the time you'd get onto the Hill, you could be standing looking at the wall and everything would still look great. Ah no, that whole time was absolutely brilliant. The team going round the city and everything.
But at the same time, you realised that for every pub full of Dub supporters, there was another five that didn't even know what was going on. It wasn't like down the country where you'd have bonfires in every town. It's all pockets. But if you are in the right places, it's great."
"And in a way, I prefer it the way it's so spread out. People come from all over the city to meet on the Hill. Even now, I could play a game in Croke Park, walk outside and someone would stop ya and ask what was going on inside. Was Ireland playing a game? It's nice when people stop you and wish you well but more often than not, nobody knows you which suits fine."
The captain on shorthand scribbling . . .
He shrugs when it comes to "the journalism thing". The seriousness of being a Dublin footballer made him re-evaluate. There was one time a few winters ago where he turned up at a local league game with his notebook to cover it for the Evening Herald.
It was a morning match so he raced off, rattled together a report, chased home to get his game and just about made it to Parnell Park for a league match against Tyrone.
Around then, he was coming to the conclusion that the two were not compatible.
"Also, there was the awkward part of writing about a guy you might be marking down the line. Or even worse, writing about or having to criticise one of your own team-mates. It was just too awkward."
But it was also kind of cool, the guy who was on his way to becoming one of the best corner backs in the country diligently assessing the best efforts of games that were, on the national scale, small beer. But he always appreciated that scene, the humility and honesty. It was where he learned his stuff. As said, Goggins was never fashion.
Inevitably, a choice had to be made. The advantage of merely interviewing himself whenever the editorial desk demanded a snazzy piece on a box-office Dublin player simply wasn't good enough. He decided to switch to a career in finance. These days, he is happy enough to appear in newspapers as the subject. Maybe he will take up the biro again someday down the road.
The captain on the man who puts the s into swagger . . .
"Tommy Lyons came in, he had his own ideas, he has a style that he sticks to regimentally.
"No two individuals are ever the same and he was very different to Tom Carr. I have a lot of time for Tom Carr, he brought me into the set-up. The way he was treated in the end was the way he was treated, you don't want to go down that road. Obviously you wouldn't be happy with what went on but the fact is Tom Lyons came in and I, like everyone else, just wanted to play.
"Tommy had his own fresh and novel approach and it took time to get used to, being honest. There were days you'd be thinking 'oh, Jaysus, what's this about'. But we adjusted and it has been good, he just does things his way and that's it. He is a great motivator, great for the players.
"In terms of being made captain, it would have been a huge surprise. There were certainly no hints given. It was a great honour for myself, the family, my club. But that is what it is. We always stress that it doesn't start or end with Coman Goggins.
"Like, it is going to be so loud against Kildare that you can't really even make yourself heard to the half backs. So we have to have leaders in every line. At some stage the next day, the shit is going to hit the fan. And when that happens, we will know if we have leaders or not. It's up to us all. At corner back, you focus on your own game. You don't really get to play football. You are there to do a job."
On being Coman Goggins . . .
We might think this is just the beginning but the Dublin captain looks at it differently.
"I enjoy playing. Full stop. (Hack habits die hard).
"But it's ashort window. I'm 25 now and if I get another five years out of it, that will be it. I see talent coming through. You know some fella is going to have the legs on you and that kind of stuff. That's the way it is going."
Already, he has lived the dream. First sky blue jersey on the pitch tomorrow, the Hill in full song.
"Croke Park, it's just amazing now. Gone from something that was just about part of the skyline to towering over the skyline. It's incredible." But it is not quite enough.
"You can always say 'I played in Croke Park' and that's great. But I would love to look at the mantelpiece and say, I won that medal. 2002. Jesus, it was great."
The captain getting one thing wrong . . .
"See, it's all very quick. In five years' time, Coman Goggins will be forgotten about, it'll be . . . . Joe Ninety. It will be somebody else."
