It’s not actually about the football, is it?
I mean, let’s be honest here, the honours list speaks for itself . . .
By its very nature, especially in a world absent of patience, football is a short-term business. For everyone, that is, but the fans. The devotion of the football fan – particularly the long-suffering version who frequents these parts fortnightly – ought to be an experiment in medical science. Mind you, even the most learned medic might have trouble figuring us out.
It’s as much an affliction as an addiction, but try explaining it to someone. Trust me, I’ve tried.
‘Who do you support?’. ‘The Harps’. ‘Aye, but who do you really support?’. The bewilderment at this point often crossed both faces in the exchange.
I grew up in an era taken over by Sky Sports, but I always had the pull of the Harps.
The week revolved around Harps. I spent countless seasons in the company of a loyal hardcore from St Johnston – the Tinney brothers John, George and James, Hugh Dillon and Ciaran Bovaird to name but a few – and the ritual was the same, religious almost. We’d meet at the Hole In The Wall for 6.30 and off we’d go, a car full of a hope that never dimmed.
The step always quickened on the walk down Navenny Street. Those winter nights always seemed to add a little something to games under the floodlights. I can still hear Paddy Breen, God be good to him, with that unique beckon ‘a hundred pound for a pound’ as he flogged the tickets that kept the lights on.
We had a glimpse of the Premier Division in ’96, thanks in no small part to a man from St Johnston, Maurice Toland.
Europe was possible by the late 90s and we even flirted with winning something in ’99. Still remember the hordes of Harps at Tolka Park for three visits to the ’99 Cup final (two in my case as apparently making my Confirmation was important). Twenty-five years ago and the very thought of it still hurts.
Finn Park might be well outdated, but for some of us it holds precious memories: Niall Cooke and Kevin McHugh sinking Shelbourne in the Cup; McHugh’s stirring play-off hat-trick and what might have been against Longford; beating Dundalk to win the First Division; BJ Banda for promotion; Dave Scully and a first League win over Derry in 18 years.
There were away days too, of course. I was fortunate to be allowed, from a young age, to trek the country in pursuit of Harps, hair bleached having taken a cue from the ’99 final squad, flags and drums packed onto the bus.
Last week’s win in Athlone echoed memories of a trip to St Mel’s Park sometime in the early noughties. Pyrotechnics were a rage in sections of the League of Ireland and this writer had a bright idea to open a smoke canister inside what was left of the stand at St Mel’s.
Mercifully, the place was so decrepit at the time it wasn’t even flammable.
Longford visit tonight and the mind goes to James Mulligan scoring twice at Strokestown Road in the Cup when we huddled in a bus shelter that served as the away ‘stand’. Harps hit seven in the replay at Finn Park.
Got signed out of school once for an FAI Cup replay at Oriel Park with hundreds of others who made the journey and was one of the first League of Ireland fans to watch a game from the new stand at The Showgrounds in Sligo (it was wet and no-one told us we couldn’t go in).
There was Kildare County (one of a long list of former League of Ireland clubs Harps have outstayed) and a magical night in ’04 when Chrissy Breen (beside on the terrace only months earlier) scored to take us to the brink of winning the First Division.
I ‘graduated’ to the press box in the mid-noughties, but the old urges don’t go gently.
It hasn’t just been those football memories, but the people too. You’ll strike a unique bond with people on the League of Ireland’s terraces.
My son, Finn (no, before you assume and ask), was born in February. When he goes to school in a few years time and someone asks him who he supports, hopefully he’ll be able to say ‘The Harps’.
It’s not just any old club. It’s ours.
