Local Rivalries

On Saturday, I did something I have not done in about five years. I spontaneously decided to go home to see my family in Longford.

My original plan was to watch Spartak play the league leaders, feel sorry for myself over the injury I received on Thursday, go to a party out in Bray, perhaps catching the last DART back into town to meet some other friends. Instead, I caught the 1700 bus to Longford.

On the journey home, I remembered that my local GAA team, Fr Manning Gaels, were playing our local rivals Dromard in a League game. It was almost a year since my last game, and with quite a few old friends playing, anticipation grew.

Dromard and Drumlish have quite a bitter rivalry. I am not ashamed in whole-heartedly participating. An Intermediate team when the Gaels first burst on the scene in 1996, our two clubs had little competition and so relations were good.

Many people around home forget that Dromard GAA club placed a huge sign just out our village wishing us well in our first County Final in 1996. Dromard had quite the crop of young players, however, and soon became a Senior team. In many ways, Dromard were similar to ourselves, but a few years behind.

Having won three Championships in 1996, 1997 and 1998, with a very successful Leinster Club Championship run in 1998 behind us, we drew Dromard in the first round of the 1999 Championship. None of us considered them a threat. We had a magnificent team and were playing our best football. For the first twenty minutes of that match we destroyed them, but did not score as much as we should. They slowly got into the game, picking up points in determined fashion. Late in the second half, a fantastic goal by Donie Conefrey gave them the lead.

We could not respond, despite our star forward, Padraic Davis, hitting the post with a vicious shot in added time, injuring himself in the process.

With no back-door, "the Windies" were eliminated, Dromard going on to win the Championship. Exacerbating the problem, there is no public house in the parish of Dromard. Their traditional post-match haunt? Gallagher's pub in Drumlish, of course!

A bitter rivalry ensued, and nearly every game between ourselves is packed with excitement, passion, big hits and heated tempers. Quite often, there is no shortage of skill either. Sunday was no exception.

I will admit immediately that we robbed Dromard, by far the better team for most of the game. First to the breaking ball, their stronger support play, fluid movement and better use of possession was in stark contrast to us. We kicked frees straight to them, wasted promising bouts of possession, and failed to track their free-ranging wingbacks. At one point, we were ten points to the bad; seven points down with about ten minutes remaining.

And then we started to play.

Like the champions of old, we refused to lie down, bringing them back to a four-point lead. Dromard promptly went down the field and scored a magnificent point. Gaelic footballers will tell you that most games have one score that is the most significant in the game, be it a goal which starts a comeback, or a point which breaks the pattern of the game. Dromard's point had that look and they thought so. They had not scored for some time, and momentum appeared to be swinging back their way.

Not a bit of it.

From a quick free in, Fitzy got a fist to it and steered it into the net. Two points down, two minutes to go, the game was there for us for the first time. Another point narrowed the margin further and from another high ball, Fitzy palmed it down to Davis, who buried the ball into the net.

What a feeling! I danced, I laughed, I roared, I punched, I gloated. I told the Dromard goalkeeper, having spent the whole game taking an infuriating amount of time on the kickouts while they were ahead, to relax. Why the sudden panic? I doubt he heard me.

I may be the better soccer player, but there is no game on this planet to rival a GAA match between to two decent neighbouring parish teams. I cannot wait for the next one, whenever I finally get to it...