More Than Just A Club

It was like that feeling when you go home for Christmas and arrive into the pub and meet all your buddies again. Ye just slip seamlessly back into ye’re old ways. It was a bit like that this weekend as the likes of Ollie, Hudson, Pierce Jordan, Laffan and a host more returned for the end of year bash.

It was a ferociously frantic weekend, a greater test of a man’s worth than any tournament, no matter the heat or the opposition, has presented us with. It all started so quietly though, catching up over pints in Place Lux on Friday evening.

What happened afterwards that night should probably be largely kept between those who were there but here are a few highlights; Ollie forgetting his marquee song whilst The Oak came to a standstill to listen, Keg ‘hurling’ downstairs, wrestling, bench-pressing Ollie, showering him with beer, the moon outside The Oak, Timmy literally turning Marian’s world upside down and the scrums in The Joyce. Neither establishment were sorry to see us depart. Things got so bad that we even had to call Ollie’s mother.

The troops needed rallying on Saturday but rally we did and off to de Valera’s we marched. It nearly took a turn early on when Hudson enquired whether Collie B was wearing his cardigan as a bet. On with the food which was magnificently rolled out to over a hundred bodies.

Then there were the speeches and in fairness Keary shun the bogman look for the night and orchestrated things well from the pulpit. There was an ambassador there for good measure and of course the Chairman of all of Europe. Awards were dished out to Caoimhe, Niamh, Bull, Jim and even myself.

Special note for Big Jim. He was never a man who would winter well but we minded him as best we could last year. So well in fact that Burger King became The Gooch and the The Gooch became footballer of the year. He’s a man who finished last year as a solid but not outstanding Shield player. This year, he epitomised the work ethic and courage that characterised our early season trophy haul. A genuine player of the year and one who deserved his reward.

Then the doors swung open and in rode Big Liam Kelly. An icon to the young men of Belgium G.A.A. as I told him many times that night. Johnny and Griff summoned me with the camera to get their photo with the legend. Chaos reigned thereafter.

There were ambulances, paramedics, jaegerbombs, dancing, singing, broken guitars, unhappy girlfriends and a wonderful moment when Caoimhe stood in the middle of a dancing huddle swinging Collie B’s cardigan in the air. We tried to get a sing song going but everything was gone too mental.

A host of other things happened I’m sure but my recollections are poor. I departed shortly after 7am but was far from the last. Others were reported seen coming out the door after 9. Pearce O’Caoimh was one of them and his girlfriend was unrelenting about the planned trip to Brugges, turning him straight around and out the door to get the train. It was 10am.

There was a reconvening in The Oak for the rugby where water and fry-ups were in great demand. Ollie strolled in with a big bruised head and unaware of how or why it happened. Timmy sat sheepishly in the corner whilst rumours of his mischief bounced off the walls.

We’ve had some massive weekends in our time here but this one would rattle the best of them. It truly is more than just a club.