Gaelic football is more than a distraction.
Long after the players had left the field and the shakes of the MacHale Park stand were finally beginning to ease from the roars and jumps and physical passion that had it rocking on its hinges on Saturday afternoon, a number of kids hung around and they weren’t going anywhere.
They probably would’ve been 10 years of age at most, draped in county colours, hanging over the barrier so they could get a glimpse into the tunnel.
The Mayo and Fermanagh footballers had long since disappeared into their respective changing rooms, some of them were even on their way out to the buses already but this crowd of young ones stayed on, unwavering.
“We love you, Aidan! We do! We love you, Aidan, we do!”
The same manic tune played on loop non-stop for the guts of 10 minutes. It didn’t cease. Not once. They were roaring down the tunnel after their idol and they couldn’t be silenced.
Even after a nice steward with a day’s work behind him tried to protest, their intentions were clear: “Get Aidan and we’ll be quiet.”
You don’t get that sort of hero-worship in many counties. You don’t get that sort of undying support. That love.
Football isn’t a distraction from life. In these parts of the world, it’s the only life worth living.
Even after the events that transpired and while social media was going to town on Mayo’s finest product, MacHale Park was still a haven for Aidan O’Shea and he was still an almost mythical figure in the eyes of his unconditional supporters.
He received a standing ovation when he was brought off by Stephen Rochford and long after the dust settles from that Fermanagh game, when he hits the net against Kildare this Saturday and even in the low points he’ll face in his career from here, one thing will be sure and constant in this fickle GAA world and that one thing is Mayo fans.
Even when they were six points down against the Ulster men at the weekend, even when their team was allowing half backs to waltz up the pitch unchallenged, and it looked for all the world that the questions that arose post-Galway wouldn’t be answered here, the crowd refused to turn on their own. That wasn’t an option.
MacHale Park was hostile at times, sure. Joe McQuillan was being pestered, some Fermanagh players were being booed but never – not once – did any of the Mayo fans get on their footballers’ backs. During that first half where the Erne County were running riot and the hosts were still waking up hungover from a five-year Connacht final binge, the home of Mayo remained a fortress. Strong. United.
Aidan Breen would float one over David Clarke’s crossbar every so often, Sean Quigley beat the ‘keeper and rose a green flag as well but, in the eerie silence that followed those Fermanagh scores, you’d see one lad stand up defiantly amongst the crowd and let out a roar, “Come on Mayo.” One by one, his county men and women followed him. The roar would echo, the seats would fling back into their upright positions as MacHale Park came to its feet to urge its team to better themselves. To believe. To never give up. They wouldn’t accept that.
And, no matter how badly Fermanagh dented the Mayo rearguard, the supporters would rise up again, forcing their men to come after them. Forcing them to stand tall. However long it took, they’d continue to set the example. They’d continue to believe and they’d continue to come together. For Mayo.
At the end of the game, they invaded the pitch. One of the most – if not the most – consistent sides in Ireland but their fans were that overcome with joy and relief – even still, even in a qualifier match – that they couldn’t contain themselves.
Lesser counties would’ve seen an exodus by half time. Lesser counties would’ve frozen because they’d have had thousands of men and women jumping down their throats at the first sign of trouble. They would’ve had their own county people turn against them, talking about the club championship in the stand, roaring abuse at the management and trying to threaten a player to do better.
Not in Mayo.
After all the hurt they’ve suffered, after all the heartbreak and near-misses and times that they even missed the boat, Mayo is unshaken.
After the controversies and triumphs, MacHale Park is rock solid, standing tall and standing proud. It stands on a foundation of support lining the entire county right to its very core.
It stands as a fortress to its warriors doing battle for Mayo. It stands as a fortress to its people. Defiant. Relentless. United.
