Cad é mar atá sibh, a chairde? How are yous folks? Tá an samhradh buailte linn! Summer is upon us, even if its timing is a bit off. Bhí cúpla lá maith againn, we've had a couple of good days.
It was a hectic weekend for us. Chuaigh muid chuig Tráth na gCeist oíche Dé hAoine, we went to the Quiz on Friday night in Sigersons, a great annual event in memory of lifelong Strabane republican Jim McAleer. Bhí scaifte maith i láthair, there was a good turnout. D'éirigh go maith leis an fhoireann s'againne sa chéad bhabhta, our team "Can't Answer, Wont Answer" did well in the first round. D'fhreagair muid gach ceist, we answered every question, in defiance of our name, but after that we descended into oblivion.
Bhí orainn éirí go luath maidin Dé Sathairn, we had to get up early on Saturday morning, to get a bus to Castlerea Prison at 7.30am, le cuairt a thabhairt ar Pearse McCauley, to visit Pearse. Bhí lá teaghlaigh agus comórtas peile eagraithe sa phríosún, there was a family day and seven-a-side gaelic tournament organised. The only way I can actually get a match these days is if I pick the team myself. Chuir mé foireann le chéile, I got a team together, a mixture of solid, if not golden oldies, including Pádaí "Steel" Mag Loingsigh, and a couple of younger lean mean fighting machines in the form of Conall Mag Loingsigh, Eathan O'Donnell agus Malachy Quigg. There were teams from Ard Mhacha, Doire agus Muineachán too. Agus bhí foireann na gcimí ann, and the P.O.W.s had their own team, and a fine set of jerseys too!
In spite of a gallant display into extra time, and also due to a referee who was mathematically challenged (ie couldn't count), An Srath Bán were knocked out in the first round. However, this actually worked in our favour because the Strabane players now migrated onto the severely depleted P.O.Ws team. Fuair muid uilig geansaí breá úr, we all got a nice new jersey. It was a strange brand of Gaelic, with no points and a set of nets for a six year old. This should have made it very hard to score, but I swear I never scored as many goals in my life. "Lámha Dé", they were calling me "Hands of God" agus chuala mé ainm an Bomber luaite, and I even heard Bomber Liston's name mentioned! The last time I played a game of football with Pearse McCauley was in May 1983 for Strabane Sigersons, nuair a bhí muid inár stócaigh óga, when we were both 19 years old, as opposed to 19 stone! Agus níorbh í an pheil a bhí i ndán dúinn an t-am sin, and life had other things in store for us rather than football, which was probably a good thing for football in general. The lack of alcohol and the fact that Jaspers is well out of his reach, has kept him in middling shape. D'éirigh leis cúl a scóráil de chos, he managed to score with his foot, a feat that evaded "hands of God" here the whole day.
Bhí muid sa chluiche ceannais in aghaidh Castleblaney, we were in the final against Castleblaney, having dispatched a fit and lively Derry side in the semi-final through sheer guile, and the unbelievable age-defying performance of former prisoner Seán Kind, who should actually tog out for Corcaigh against the Kingdom in the All-Ireland final. By the time the final came around the rigor mortis was setting into my own bones, and the stócaigh óga / young boys had to see out the last minutes, with Big Doc as ref adding on a few important extra minutes when we were behind, and then local boy Malachy Quigg stepped up to score a blinder to give us 'an corn agus na boinn' the cup and medals. Chuaigh muid fá choinne greim bia, we went for a bite to eat, bhuail mé féin agus Flint Diver cúpla port, myself and Flint played a few tunes. Saying goodbye is always difficult, and when I walked out the gate it was hard to avoid the feeling that we have let these fellas down. Although the prison conditions seem relaxed, the wall is pretty solid looking.
Dé Domhnaigh ghlac muid páirt sa mhórshiúl cuimhneacháin, on Sunday we took part in the West-Tyrone republican commemoration. The most poignant moment in this commemoration for me is the minute's silence sa reilig, in the graveyard. I always think of the fellas I knew personally when I was younger and who are no longer with us, David and Michael Devine, Charlie Breslin. I also remember young James McPhilemy. And I think of the others I never knew.
This week is the 400th anniversary of Imeacht na nIarlaí, the Flight of the Earls, when our Gaelic nobles were forced to flee our own country in the hope of winning support on the continent. The "Earls" (I prefer to see them as "Taoisigh") have now been neutered and made quaint and acceptable, but Ó Néill and Ó Domhnaill were spirited fighting folk who couldn't live with English rule in Ireland, and they would have been proud of the spirit that motivated our young republicans, whose nobility was in their hearts. Agus sin mar a chuimhním féin ar Imeacht na nIarlaí, and that's the way I'll commemorate the Flight of the Earls.
Blúiríní / Info
IRISH CLASSES (all levels) starting in September: phone Seán @ 07912662796
LEARN IRISH ONLINE @ http://www.bbc.co.uk/northernireland/irish/blas/
(don't like the address, but it's a great wee course, and you can download it.)
Imeachtaí / Upcoming Events
TRAD SESSIONS @ 9pm: Christy's Friday 14th Sept; Sweeno/McGinty's Friday 21st Sept. Fáilte roimh cheoltóirí agus éisteoirí, all musicians and listeners welcome!
