My Shamrock ~ Gatherings from Ireland # 93

They were selling pots of fresh shamrock in SuperValu here in Tramore yesterday. The pots were sitting in a cardboard box lined with newspaper at the entrance to the store so  I did my whole shop with shamrock on my mind  and the pot staring up at me from the trolley with its green Irish eyes.

Oh, lots of memories of  Mother pinning shamrock onto the duffle coat of my youth on St. Patrick’s Day; making shamrocks from cutting up old Cornflake boxes and mixing paint to try to get the exact shade of green; but most of all what dominated my thoughts was the village of  Ballyhale, Co. Kilkenny.

For years, I used to pass through Ballyhale on my way from Dublin to Tramore ~ that was in the days before the new motorway was built. I always thought of it as a sleepy little village and the one that indicated that there was only Mullinavat and Waterford before the home strait to Tramore.

However,  my perception of  Ballyhale changed forever on a September night in 2009 when I was one of thousands in the village at the homecoming of the victorious ‘four-in-a row’ All-Ireland Kilkenny hurling team.  Many of the key members of that team were from the Ballyhale Club ~ Ballyhale Shamrocks ~ Seamróga Baile hÉil.  We’re talking  about absolute greats like Henry Shefflin, T.J. Reid, Michael Fennelly, James “Cha” Fitzpatrick, Colin Fennelly …..

I just had to go and have a look at the grounds where these men had trained since they were kids ~ Páirc na Seamróg. I was half expecting to see a miniature Croke Park  but here was typical village set-up and the pitch even looked a bit lopsided to my star-struck eyes.

The shamrock symbolises so much; it has given its name to thousands of places all round the world. (I g0t 58,800,000 results when I googled it today). But more than anything, the shamrock evokes a pride and passion about Ireland and Irishness and I can tell you I never saw such pride as was shown for the Ballyhale Shamrock boys that amazing night.

Hurling Hero John Mullane Retires ~ Gatherings from Ireland # 36

I have the utmost admiration for John Mullane, the inspirational Waterford hurler, who announced his retirement from Inter-County hurling this week. He is a man who gave his all to Waterford hurling, wore his heart on his blue and white sleeve and gave us magic moments in which we saw raw talent and flair. When you talk about John Mullane, you talk about a player who ignited stadiums with his speed, skill and sheer passion.  You also talk about a man who poured his humble  soul into inspiring a whole generation of  Waterford youngsters with a deep, deep love of the game. He is so generous with his time and makes every young player feel special.

I will never, ever forget being on the Quay in Waterford in 2008 for the Waterford Team’s homecoming having been defeated in the All-Ireland Final in 2008. To see John Mullane sobbing was heart-breaking as ‘ Don’t Stop Believin’ ,  the Waterford anthem,  echoed right around the county. He felt he had let us all down; we knew that he would die for Waterford.  He was a fundamental part of  so many great Waterford games  that gave us such memories ~ playing alongside the likes of Ken McGrath, Paul Flynn, Dan Shanahan , Tony Browne, Eoin Kelly, Michael Brick Walshe ….

John Mullane, you will never, ever know how you lifted our Waterford hearts as you shot up the field and scored from impossible angles.  Thanks for the glorious memories.

Co. Waterford Ahead of the Munster Hurling Final

Co. Waterford is my native heath and the place where I have now lived for the last 21 years.  I often write about aspects of the county which has incredible natural beauty and a depth of history and heritage that is a sociologist’s dream.

The time that I feel most able to think and write about Co. Waterford as a whole is when the hurlers are doing well in the All-Ireland Championship and that moment is right now!  In just over a week’s time, July 15th, Co. Waterford takes on the might of Co. Tipperary in the Munster Final.  Nothing galvanises Co. Waterford more, as an entity, than when the hurlers are  leading the way. We move from thoughts of  Waterford City as opposed to the rest of the county (as the Census defines us) or from the East/West Waterford divide to Co. Waterford as one – all waving the same blue and white flag.  There is great awareness and banter about Waterford’s county boundaries and for these weeks no one is in any doubt where the lines are.

I got great insight into how hurling  passions can really bring county blood to a boil when my father, at the age of 76, made his way from Waterford to Croke Park  in 1995 to see his beloved Co. Clare win the All-Ireland for the first time in his life. I swear that the tears of joy he shed over that victory were blue and saffron.

Last  night I headed for Walsh Park in Waterford City to see the team prepare for the ‘big day.’  I knew that I was surrounded by people from all over the county and the players hailed from clubs from the length and breath of  The Deise (Co. Waterford’s nickname).  The Senior Team had a practice game again the Waterford Under 21 players and there was an air of quiet, determined focus among  the players, management  and spectators.

Michael Ryan (Manager) with Ken McGrath and Sean Cullinane

No one was getting too excited;  it’s like we are in a valley between the gut-wrenching tension of the last five minutes of the semi-final against Co. Clare a few weeks ago  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLaIjlXqOAc and what we know will be an adrenalin-pumper against Co. Tipperary on sunday week.

As I was leaving Walsh Park, I couldn’t but notice a colourful board hanging just inside the turnstiles. It captured in a picture what I have been feeling for years now since Waterford have been having glorious hurling years.  Here was a big Waterford crest and the crests of the 55 clubs from all around the county. This was like a pack of  55 cards but, for now, they are all in the same Blue and White Box of Co. Waterford which sings Don’t Stop Believing!

Co. Waterford Crest and Club Crests at Walsh Park

Ireland Calling! May 2012 Slideshow

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Spring in Romantic Tramore

 SPRING IN  ROMANTIC TRAMORE 

This evening I realised that winter is over and that spring has finally sprung. I felt that tingle of excitement at the prospect of new beginnings when I caught a glimpse of springtime down the Prom  shortly before 6pm.  The beach had its spring glow –  that special sheen that one only seems to catch at this time of year.

Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who felt the change in the air. Out in Garrarus, a man was happily looking for treasures in among the rockpools; families were enjoying the mild air and dogs were bounding along the beach. All the while, there was the sound of birds chirping and the fields around Tramore will soon present us with that most wonderful sight, newborn lambs under their mothers’ watchful eyes.

With the arrival of spring, I can’t but think of Alfred Lord Tennyson’s line: ‘In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.’ It is hard to think of a place that holds more for the romantic, than Tramore itself. I challenge anyone to find a ‘A Lover’s Walk’, which is as beautiful and historic as Lover’s Walk out by Newtown Wood. It’s hardly a coincidence that there is an abundance of wild gorse, which shows yellow all year, growing along ‘Lover’s Walk.’ Whenever I pass it, I think of how my late mother would always say:  ‘When the gorse is out of bloom, kissing’s out of season.’

Lover’s Walk, Tramore, Co. Waterford

Or what about Tramore’s , ‘Love Lane’, with its special proximity to the sea and to that den of romance, Tramore Tennis Club. And, come to think of it, Tramore has its very own historic Gallwey’s heart-shaped chocolates.

While there is a lovely predictability about spring, trees in bud, snowdrops, primroses in the hedgerows, daffodils, lengthening days, the comings and goings of St Patrick’s Day, it can be full of surprises and new beginnings.

Without doubt one of the most unexpected things to happen me in springtime was eleven years ago, when I brought my then five-year-old son down to Tramore GAA Club to see if hurling might appeal to him. I had no background whatever in hurling, having spent my formative years, immersed in tennis, in non-hurling counties like Westmeath, Monaghan and Louth. Little did I realise that day, back in spring 2001, that I would be entering a whole new world.

Tramore GAA Club welcomed us with open arms and there I discovered what can only be described as a dynamic hub of sport, camaraderie and community. Hurling certainly did take the young man’s fancy, and ten years on, I am still stunned by the extent to which hurling and Tramore’s, Michael Mac Craith Club, which has a history stretching way back to 1885, became so fundamental to our lives.

Tramore GAA Club

The stretch in the evenings will soon bring the sight of hard-fought matches down in the grounds at Riverstown, the echo of hurls clashing, team mates calling, coaches encouraging, half-time drinks, supporters cheering, that piercing sound of the referee’s whistle, the clatter of the metal studs as the spent teams – ours in the blue and white of Tramore, make their way to the dressing-rooms to either celebrate or console, but never losing sight of the bonds of friendship that are tightened with every match between both team mates and ‘opponents.’

A tough winter is behind us now. Tramore is already dressing up for spring and presenting us with so much to savour. I’m just wondering what surprises are in store, what new beginnings are ahead in this special town of ours that has such an abundance of human energy and natural beauty.

Galloping on Tramore Beach