Donny Doherty diary in the Irish News

[stpauls]

AZ, brilliant!! just read the last installment and can't wait for the final chapter!!! C'MON FERBANE!!!

[AZOffaly]

The next installment will be next week. The lads are bursting their bollixes training for the final. Plus I was travelling with work this week.

[naka]

awsome az, whens the tickets  for the final on sale

[Frank Casey]

Westmeath - sorry. Don't be silly. Westmeath winning something? Ha ha.

Would you like a little salt or ketchup to flavour the hat

[Hardy]

Well, if you'd consider Div. 2 "something", fair enough.

Only joking. Well done to our separated brethren and congratulations from the mainland.

[stephenite]

Just happened across this now - marvellous stuff AZ. Now hurry up with the next one like a good man

[AFS]

Wow! Just spent the last hour reading all of these and they're absolutely fantastic. Genuinely excited about the championship final now. These should seriously be printed in a paper somewhere, they deserve to be read by more people.

[AZOffaly]

Episode 8. The build up.
*************************

Saturday September 20th

10.30 am

"Rhode to claim 25th title at expense of rejuvenated Ferbane
        By Kevin Egan

Rhode are hot favourites for Sunday's county senior football final where they take on Ferbane in a bid to win their 7th county title in 10 years. The north Offaly men have been the dominant force in the game since Ferbane last supped from the Dowling Cup, and it is hard to make a case for Ferbane to buck that trend in Sunday's final. Key county men like Niall Sullivan, Eamon Kellaghan and Joe Brady will be to the forefront as the green and gold attempt to re-emphasise the gap that has grown between themselves and their erstwhile nemesis over the past decade. Ferbane, led by veterans Mel Byrne and ex-All Star nominee Declan Grennan have improved immensely this season, and have quality newcomers in Liam O'Reilly and Rory Molloy, but only the most optimistic Ferbane backer would make serious claims as to the likelihood of the Green and White making it back to the pinnacle of Offaly football"

Declan sighed and threw the Offaly indo to one side before turning his attention back to his breakfast. The Offaly Independent was only singing off the same hymn sheet as the other local papers, and indeed everyone outside Ferbane that Declan had met since the final pairing was decided. It annoyed him that people were so dismissive of Ferbane's challenge given their performances this year, and how close they had come before. Still, it was no bad thing to be written off before a final, and it was heaping pressure on the Rhode lads. Rhode. One of the real blue bloods of Offaly football, and currently without a shadow of a doubt the best team in the county. A tradition that went back to the old Iron Man of Rhode himself, Paddy McCormack, and beyond, and carried on today.
'But the best team doesn't always win finals, Kevin, and Ferbane have a fair old tradition of our own' Declan thought as he brought his plate over to the sink. 'And we are back'.


7.30 pm.

'Right lads, settle down.' Paddy Burke looked around the room of expectant, nervous faces in front of him as they shuffled seats around in the GAA Centre. Bodies leaning forward, hanging on his every word, hands clasped in front of them. The odd nervous joke or giggle from the younger lads. The outwardly calm, but inwardly churning, expressions of the older lads. The final meeting before the county final. The team announcement.

'Alright lads, first things first. The team we sent into the programme is the team we are going with tomorrow. Most of ye don't know it, so here we go. In goals, Declan Murphy. Full back line Thomas Rourke, Kevin Dunne, Eddie Rourke. Half backs Eamon Flynn, Liam O'Reilly, Ken Ryan. Centre of the field. Paddy Moore and Sean Slevin. Half forwards Brendan Kelly, Declan Grennan and Sean Kelly. Full Forward line Rory Molloy, Mel Byrne and Timmy Flynn. That's the starting 15 lads, but let there be no doubt that I will have no hesitation about making changes if we need to, so I want every one of the subs to prepare as if they were playing. This is a squad game lads, and we wouldn't be here without every man being part of it. Tomorrow is no different, and I know I can trust every one of ye if you are needed.'

Declan glanced over at Paul Flynn, who had replaced him for the semi final. He had done well, and deserved to make the 15 for the final, but it was hard to drop anyone. Declan made a silent promise that he wouldn't make Paddy regret putting him straight back into the lineup. Paul looked up, and nodded at Declan. A quick inclination of his head, and Declan knew he would be okay. Paul knew the score at this stage, and he also knew that if he came on, he'd be ready himself.

'Alright lads. Tonight is not a night for roaring and shouting.' Paddy took the floor again. 'Tomorrow is a big game lads, and there's no need to tell you what it means. Having said all that, it is ONLY a game. We've played these games before, and we will play them again. Don't let yourself get caught up in the whole occasion, just go out, and play your normal game. There's absolutely nothing to be afraid of tomorrow. Rhode are shitting themselves up there, the almighty greats of Offaly football. Almighty greats my hole. They are 30 lads, the same as any other 30 lads in any other place, including Ferbane. And the day that ANY Ferbane man bows down to a lad from Rhode, or any other f**king place, is a day that hasn't come yet, and is a day that won't f**king come on my watch. Lads, I've coached teams all over the country. I've won county championships, and provincial titles, and I am telling ye right now, in all seriousness and honesty. Ye WILL beat Rhode tomorrow. I have no doubt. I've seen them play, we played them in the league, and I know that 1-30 we are a better team than them. Never mind the papers, or the radio, or the gobshites in the street telling you how good they are. They are a fine team, no doubt about it, but I'll tell you one thing. No matter how good they think they are, no matter what they've won, no matter what people say about them, when the two teams run out tomorrow and look into their own heart, and into the eye of the opposition one thing will be true. They are not, and never will be FERBANE. We know it, they know it, and by 5 o'clock tomorrow evening the whole county and country will know it, and they will know one other thing. FERBANE ARE BACK!'

A spontaneous round of applause rang around the room, and Declan and Mel exchanged glances. Mel could see the excitement in Declan's eyes, and he was sure he had the same himself. Looking around the room he saw it in everyone. And he saw something else. Something far more important than excitement, or nerves. He saw belief. In his mind's eye he saw himself shaking hands with Ollie Daly and accepting the Dowling Cup on behalf of Ferbane. His heart swelled inside him, and he calmed himself down. 'Too early. Concentrate on the game, calm it.' He told himself as they gathered their jackets and headed for the door. Big day tomorrow, home and rest. Sleep might be hard to come by tonight, but he hoped he would drift off. Big day tomorrow.

'No', he corrected himself, 'Not a big day. THE big day'.


Sunday September 21st
1:00 pm
Gear checked, double checked, and deposited safely in the boot, Declan kissed Máire and Oisín goodbye and headed for the car. Oisin had his little Ferbane jersey already on him, and was waving as Declan pulled out of the driveway, rolling down the window. 'See you after the game' He said as he put the car into gear.
'Best of luck Dec, ye'll do it' Said Máire with a smile and a wave.

'I hope your right pet' he thought, as he drove away, towards Mel's and towards Tullamore. And towards destiny.

2.30 pm

'Alright lads, up on your feet, lets get moving' Paddy shouted as the final preparations were made. 'This is it now. Heads right. GET THE HEADS RIGHT. Everyone out now please, except the panel and selectors.' The Chairman, and other club members shook hands with the lads on the way out, and Peter Foley, the Chairman, gave Declan wink. 'Today is the day Dec. Today is the day. Best of luck to you.' Declan nodded back, but the all to familiar sick feeling in his stomach prevented him from replying. He looked around. As usual all you could smell was a combination of Deep Heat and Ralgex, but he wasn't interested in smells. He was interested in sights. What could he see in his team mates? Murph was over there, frowning intensely, all wisecracks and jokes forgotten as he concentrated on the warmup and the game. Brendan was always intense before games, and today was no different. Blood drained from his face. Rory Molloy was quiet, but looked relaxed. 'Young lads' Declan thought, as he remembered his own total lack of fear in '97. 'I hope you walk off today thinking it's easy as well Rory. Please God'. A glance at Mel. 'What's going through his head?' Declan thought, even though he knew the answer already.

'Don't f**k up. Don't f**k up. Keep calm, lead the lads. Lead them. We are winning today, we are NOT getting beaten.' Mel's mind raced as Paddy brought them through a gentle jog on the spot to get the blood flowing, the main warmup having been done outside. He looked up and saw Declan looking at him. 'He knows what's going on. IF he's on his game, we'll win. C'Mon Dec'.

Paddy went through a few words of wisdom to the lads, and they all listened. No easy fouling. Direct ball from the half backs and midfield, but not high ball. Support the man in possession. Follow the runners. All the same things, every game. Ferbane were consistent now. Consistent in game plan, consistent in performance. Now could they be consistent in result? 'Today is the day' Mel thought to himself as the jogging eased up, and Paddy handed him a ball. 'Mel, this is it. This is your team. This is your day.' Mel nodded and went to the door. Stood in front of it. Looked around at the 30 faces, looking back at him. Looking for a leader.

"Alright lads. In 30 seconds, I'm opening that door, and we are going out. Before I do. Look around this room. Look around at lads that you have grown up with, played underage with, gone on holidays with. Look at lads that you have cried with after bad days, and laughed with after good ones. Look at lads that you know you would die for on that field, and you know would die for you. Look around. Now ask yourself this question. 'Are we coming here to cry, or to laugh? Is today going to be another bad day, or finally, at last, for once, is it going to be THE day of days? The day when we come in here with the Dowling Cup and bring it home. Home lads. Home to Ferbane. Home to OUR people, OUR parish and OUR place. Home to bring it around OUR schools. Rhode are waiting for us lads, but by Jaysus, when we get out there, they are going to wish we never had picked up a pair of boot. TODAY LADS. TODAY WE ARE WINNERS, AND TODAY WE WIN!!!!!'

Mel pulled opened the door and sprinted down the tunnel an out into the blinding sunshine and the mass of colour and noise of county final day. Behind him he heard the clatter of cogs on concrete as his men followed him into the battle, and their roaring cry at the end of his speech echoed around the walls. Today was the day.

[High Catch]

Hairs standing on the back of my neck.

[Mickey Linden]

Excellent stuff AZ come on Ferbane!

[take_yer_points]

Ah Jesus I thought we were going to have the outcome of the county final there too! Getting exciting now!

[AZOffaly]

Episode 9. Here it is lads. It's a long one.

The Final
**********************

2.58 pm.

The flags fluttered in the breeze as Declan looked around O'Connor Park and breathed in deeply. The parade had ended, and he took up his position at centre forward, facing the flag as the Mountbolus  Pipe Band played the first few notes of Amhrán na bhFiann. 'Here we go'.


'Seo libh canaidh Amhrán na bhFiann'
"COME ON RHODE" "COME ON FERBANE", the crowd roared as Declan shook hands with Joe Brady, the Rhode centre back, and faced the middle of the field where Brian O'Leary, Declan's friend from the quarter final, was checking his watches and getting ready to start the game.

'Peep' The ball arced into the air as the midfielders jockeyed for position, and the game was on. 'C'Mon Ferbane'.


3.20 pm.

Rhode 0-05 Ferbane 0-03

Paddy Burke glanced up at the scoreboard with 20 minutes gone as Rhode launched another attack. Ferbane had hit the ground running, and Declan had kicked two lovely points in the first few minutes, but Rhode reeled off 4 unanswered in the next 10 minutes. Since then Rory Molloy and Niall Sullivan had swapped scores, and Rhode were well settled in. 'Come on Ferbane, tight there at the back. Half backs HAMMER IN FOR THE BREAKS' Paddy roared as another loose ball was gathered by the Rhode midfield. Ferbane had become a little flustered and frustrated as the game ebbed away from them, and that would have to stop before serious damage was inflicted. 'A typical final' thought Paddy. 'We have to hang in there'.....

Liam O'Reilly cut out a long, ambitious, pass from Marius Rock, and transferred it quickly to Paddy Moore, who moved it on in turn to Declan. As Dec looked up, he saw Mel making a run towards Rory Molloy's corner and Rory was sneaking in behind the full back as they sprinted out. 'Come on, a good ball' Declan thought as he stroked the ball towards the path of Rory's run.


'YESSSSSS' 'COME ON FERBANE' 'GREAT BALL DEC' 'THAT'S THE JOB YOUNG MOLLOY'

Rory raced out wheeling his arm in triumph as the umpire waved the green flag. Dec had put a lovely ball in front of him as he had swapped places with Mel, and Rory had applied a cool finish into the bottom corner with Michael Hughes well beaten. He felt the rush of elation he always got when he scored a big goal, and he knew it would be a big lift and was badly needed.

'Great ball Dec' he roared out the field as the goalie placed the ball for the kick out. 'Keep it going lads, KEEP IT GOING'. Rory had been 9 years of age when Ferbane had won their last county championship, and he knew how much it meant to the older lads. Sometimes he was bemused by the sheer desperation he felt at training and meetings as the lads tried to verbalise their sheer hunger, but sometimes you didn't need to hear the words, or even understand them.  You just needed to know. And Rory knew. 'COME ON FERBANE!'....

3.35 pm

'Down lads. Sit down. There's nothing won yet. SIT DOWN TO f**k'. Paddy lost patience as the Ferbane lads milled around slapping each other on the shoulder. Half time had arrived and Ferbane were on a high. In the last 10 minutes of the half, after Molloy's goal, Ferbane had reeled off another 4 points without reply, and Mel and Dec especially had torn the Rhode defence asunder. 1-07 to 0-05, and within touching distance of glory. But nearly never skinned the cat, and Paddy had seen finals lost from better positions than this, too many times to feel the slightest bit relaxed.

'Alright lads, now, deep breaths. Calm yerselves down.' He said as the players finally quietened the adrenaline coursing through them, and sat looking up at him. 'Can anyone tell me the score from the last county final ye lost? I'm sure ye can. Now can anyone tell me the score at half time in that game?' Dec nodded grimly to himself, and knew exactly what Paddy was hinting at. 5 points up at half time translated into a 3 point defeat, and desolation. 'Not this time though. No f**king way.'

'Right. Now ye know where I'm coming from. So listen up, and park the celebrations until we are in Gavin's and have the cup on the table. There's no f**king medals handed out at half time of any game.'

Mel looked around and nodded as he saw the message sinking in to the younger lads, and indeed some of the older lads whose memory banks were wiped of the pain from days like that. Paddy paced around the huge team gear bag in the centre of the room. Making eye contact with every player.

'Rhode will come back into this lads, they are not champions for no reason, and they will fight. They know what's happened ye before, and they think ye'll be rattled if they get back into the game. But that's not going to happen this year lads. No more. NO f**king MORE!. We've come a long, hard journey this year, and ye have had a long journey this last 10 years. Draw on that lads. Draw on the pain we suffered in training. The ice baths. The sprints, the muck and shite and the puking up in the long grass. Draw on all that, and on the memories of how you felt last year, and the year before. WE ARE NOT GOING TO DIE OUT HERE. Lads I told ye last night we would win. I still know we will win. Ye know we will win, so if Rhode DO come back at us, pay no remarks. Ignore the crowd, they're not playing. We are, and we are good enough to beat them. No panic, no worries, and most of all, when you come off that field NO f**king REGRETS. Stand tall, be proud and WIN!'

To a man, the lads jumped to their feet as Paddy roared his lungs out at them, and stormed to the door. Declan and Mel at the forefront, and Dec clapped Mel on the back. 'Not this year Mel. This year is different, and we're going to do it, whatever it takes.' Mel nodded and the door opened again. '30 minutes' Dec thought, as they ran out, '30 minutes'.

4.05 pm.

'COME ON RHODE, YE HAVE THEM. THEY'RE RATTLED' a shout came in from the sideline as the umpire reached for another white flag for Niall Sullivan. 1-10 to 0-11 points, and Rhode were hanging on with grim determination. Declan pumped his fists at Liam O'Reilly and Kevin Dunne. 'COME ON LADS. KEEP IT GOING'. Rhode had started the second half brightly, but Ferbane had matched them point for point for 15 minutes, 1-10 to 0-08. But Niall Sullivan was starting to put on a virtuoso display at full forward, and had chipped in 3 points from play in the last 5 minutes. Kevin Dunne had been switched off him, but Sullivan was still doing damage. Ferbane would have to solve that problem further out the field, and start winning ball. Momentum was with Rhode now though, and Dec was fighting the negative thoughts that had plagued him so often before. COME ON FERBANE.

The ball broke loose from Murph's kickout, and Declan was caught flat footed as Joe Brady stormed in for the break. 'COME ON DEC FOR f**k'S SAKE' , Declan chased hard as Brady carried the ball into Ferbane territory, but a desperate, diving block was too late, and as he looked up from the ground, he saw Murph jumping up and tapping the crossbar as the ball sailed over at the town end. 'YESSS!!!. GOOD MAN BRADY. COME ON RHODE'.

As they jogged back to their position, Joe hit Dec a shoulder. 'Getting nervous Dec? Ye should be used to this by now'. 'Go f**k yourself Joe, not this time'. Brady sneered as they turned to face the kickout and Declan felt the frustration and anger boiling up in him. 'Surely not this f**king time?'.

....

Murph's kickout went straight out over the sideline, and Mel put his head in his hands. What the f**k was going on back there. The ball hadn't reached the full forward line in 5 minutes, and the sick feeling at the pit of his stomach was spreading. He felt like an observer at his own funeral as he watched Niall Sullivan trotting over to the sideline ball and, after taking one hop, swinging it straight over the black spot from a good 50 metres out. 'COME ON RHODE, COME ON!!!' 'f**king hell. Not this shite again.'

Declan was trying to keep a cool head as he watched Murph place the ball again. 'HEAD UP MURPH'. Draw match. 'How much is left ref'? O'Leary looked at his watch. '1 minute Dec. ' Joe Brady heard the exchange as well. 'COME ON RHODE. NEXT BALL. ONE MINUTE!!!' He roared. The Rhode lads all seemed to be about 3 inches taller. Dec felt like he was staring down a tunnel. He forced himself to breathe again. 'Get the ball. Win this ball'. Silently he implored his midfield, his half backs, anyone. 'Come on.'

..

Murph's kickout hung in the breeze and the four midfielders reached for the sky. All thoughts of tactics, formations, calling and anything else banished in the midst of the tumultuous last few moments of a county final. The only thing left was raw desire to win the ball, this ball. This huge ball. But none of them did. Paddy Moore fisted it out of the hands of Ger Geraghty, the Rhode colossus, and the ball squirted out over towards the sideline. Brendan and Ian McNamee, the Rhode wing, back ran towards it and Brendan fell down after a shoulder. No free. The Rhode crowd rose to their feet as McNamee carried the ball towards the Ferbane half. Declan forced his tired body into a sprint, and slowly made up the ground, 2 metres away, 1 metre. He saw Niall Sullivan making a run into space out of the corner of his eye, and McNamee did too. Declan launched himself into another diving block as McNamee delivered the pass....

THUNK. 'Got it you f**ker'. Declan rolled over on the ground as the ball squirted loose. Now the Ferbane crowd were on their feet. 'YESS DEC' 'COME ON'. It seemed like slow motion as Dec got to his feet, and shrugged off the challenge of McNamee. He picked up the ball and , just as Joe Brady delivered a savage belt to his chest, he punted the ball towards the general direction of Brendan, who'd been left free by the Rhode defence after losing the ball.

The world turned upside down as Dec fell from the Brady hit, and he had just rolled over in time to look up. To look up and see Brendan. 30 metres out. Brendan soloing. 'Kick it Brendan. Kick the f**king thing'. To look up and see the ball arcing. High into the sky. Curling. Dropping.

'YESSSSSS' 'f**king LEGEND BRENDAN KELLY' 'COME ON FERBANE'. Declan jumped to his feet. All thought of tiredness gone now. 1 point up,still close enough to lose it, but not this time surely. He looked over at Joe Brady, slowly picking himself up, looked at Brian O'Leary. O'Leary looking at his watch. The world looking at their watches. O'Leary putting the whistle to his lips. 'Blow it. BLOW THE f**king THING BRIAN'.

'Peeeep. Peeeep. Peeeep.'

Dec collapsed on the ground. The adrenaline and sheer fear of losing that had helped him in the last minute flowed out of him to be replaced by absolute exhaustion. Exhaustion and disbelief. And sheer, sheer joy. He bowed his head into the turf, 'Thank God. Thank you God' were the only words he could force out as his mind raced. Raced with the bad days, the defeats, Máire, Oisín, Clara, Rhode, Tullamore. YESSSSSSS'.

Mel hauled Dec up off the ground and they were joined by a delirious mass of players and supporters. A heaving, throbbing scrum of sheer ecstasy as the years of frustration were chased away by that one moment of unadulterated joy. Paddy Burke raced over, and grabbed Mel out of the scrum, and gave him a bearhug. Mel hugged him back, and as they danced around the field, the only thing he could say though the tears stinging his eyes as they mixed with the sweat was 'Thanks Paddy. Thanks Paddy. Thanks Paddy'.

Dec shook hands with Joe Brady, and a few of the other Rhode lads, as the pandemonium continued. Brady gave a rueful smile. 'Well done Dec, ye deserved it. I suppose it wasn't going to happen to ye again after all. Congratulations'.

'Cheers Joe. Fair play to ye. Hard luck'.

Dec punched the air with delight as he went to greet his mother, father, Máire and Oisín, and a thought crossed his mind in the middle of all the madness.

'Thank God I didn't retire'.
.....

'A chairde go leir. Tá an athas orm an corn seo a glacadh are son foireann agus na muintir an bhFear Bán'

A cheer rose lustily around O'Connor Park as Mel raised the Dowling Cup to the sky, and Dec, holding Oisín in his arms, beamed as well wishers and opponents alike clapped him on the back, and congratulated him. All the bad days were receding like the ebbing tide, the memories being replaced by a whole new batch of brighter, happier ones. Máire hugged his arm, as Oisín waved his flag like a little soldier of a victorious army.

'And three cheers for Rhode. Hip Hip Hooray. Hip Hip Hooray. Hip Hip Hooray. Go raibh mile maith agaibh. There'll be a big night in Ferbane tonight!!!'

Mel finished his speech to a roar and a laugh, and headed back down the steps into the throng, his arms holding the Dowling Cup like a vise. Finally the sea of people parted, and as he looked up, he saw Dec and went over to him. Dec reached out and touched the cup. 'f**king long time coming this one Mel. f**king long time.'

Mel nodded with a broad grin. 'Come on. Let's get out of here. The pints are on in Gavin's '

........

'Well Dec, that was some game today. Some result. f**king Brilliant'.
Big John Murray, proud owner of another county medal, and deserved it as much as anyone, was beaming with delight as he came over to Mel, Brendan, Murph and Dec in Gavin's.
'You can sing that John. Absolutely fantastic'.
'And next year we'll take them all again'.

Declan looked around as he saw auld Paddy McIntyre standing up to sing a song, just like the old days, the old happy days. Except now the happy days were back, and ths songs could be sung again.

'Next year? Next year me hole'

All eyes turned to him, and Big John's mouth opened.

Dec took a sup of his pint, and looked around.
'Sure aren't we out in two weeks against them hoors from Westmeath in the Leinster Club!'.

The lads laughed and clinked their pint glasses as Paddy closed his eyes and began..

"I curse the day I sailed away from the Dear old Isle of Green,
On a foreign strand where I now do stand and the deep sea rolls between.
In dreams I fly where I roamed a boy 'ere my worldly cares began.
And my vision shows where the Brosna flows, in the green fields 'round Ferbane'.

[AZOffaly]

That's it lads. Thanks for reading. I'm as knackered as if I had played the year myself.

As an aside, Ferbane are out in the county championship first match tomorrow night, against Shannonbridge, so hopefully life will imitate my ramblings

An bhFéar Bán abú.

Cheers

[Billys Boots]

Good man AZ, ye big softy. 

[naka]

az ,  congrats could sense the desperation on declans behalf, feels like most of usf every year our respective clubs play in the championship.
t