THE most lonesome place in the world on All-Ireland final day must surely be Croke Park when the final whistle blows – and your team is beaten.
You’re surrounded by cheering opposition fans, there’s nowhere to hide, and the realisation slowly sets in: it’s over. The cup is gone. Your mind refuses to accept the result, your stomach sinks, and you try to avoid looking at the shattered players on the pitch. You don’t wait for the presentation. You just want to get out of the stadium. There’s no way you can watch the cup being handed over or hear the winning captain’s speech.
The feeling couldn’t be more different when you win – then, you want to celebrate with the whole world. But we sometimes forget that winning can bring its own sense of loneliness too.
Today, we’re thinking of our emigrants in the GAA community, especially those with Cork connections. They’re scattered across the globe – from America to Australia, from Europe to Africa and Asia. Irish men and women who once trod the pitches of home but, for many reasons, sought new lives abroad. Some are current players, some former; many are lucky to have found GAA clubs in their adopted homes.
But how are they feeling now, as all of Cork gets ready for a full-on assault on the Liam MacCarthy Cup?
This generation is fortunate to have social media and instant communication. They can keep in touch with every update, every whisper from home. But it’s still not the same. They can recreate the build-up where they are, but it’s not Cork – where red and white flags fly in every village and town, and the players walk among us.
They’ll gather in clubrooms or Irish pubs to watch the game. Some will watch alone, at home, in the early hours – 2am in some time zones – but they’ll be there. They’ll cheer every Cork score and groan at every wide. For almost 90 minutes, they’ll feel like they’re in Croke Park with us.
It wasn’t always this easy. There was a time when they were lucky to get the match on the radio. Some even relied on phone calls to follow the action. Now, livestreams and GAA+ bring the games to screens worldwide – a gift for our exiles, even if not without its controversies.
We’ve experienced what it feels like to be away on All-Ireland day. In 2013, we were in New York for the drawn hurling final against Clare – a trip booked long before Cork’s unexpected run. We tried everything to get the match on radio, but the feed broke down. Frustration doesn’t even cover it. Thankfully, we made it home for the replay – though it didn’t have the ending we’d hoped for.
In 2010, we were at a family wedding in Lanzarote – not our bad planning, for once – when Cork’s footballers last lifted the Sam Maguire. We found a pub showing the game, surrounded by some Kerry supporters. But just minutes from the end, with Cork clinging to a one-point lead, the screen went black. The transmission was lost. More frustration – and no sleep that night, thinking of all the celebrations we were missing back home.
This Sunday, we’ll be lucky enough to travel to Croke Park. But we have family scattered across the globe – in Australia, Korea, London. They’ll be glued to their TVs, despite the time difference. They’ll watch with their own kids, hopefully wearing red and white. But how will they feel if Cork lose, and there’s no one nearby to share the disappointment? Or if Cork win – and the celebrations begin – how will it feel to be so far from home?
That’s where the loneliness creeps in – even in victory. Not being in Croke Park. Not joining the thousands on the South Mall to welcome the team home. Because no matter how good the connection or how instant the updates, they’re still thousands of miles from where they want to be.
They are part of this historic moment as Cork GAA people – but at the same time, they’re on the periphery, looking in. They might celebrate in pubs, clubs, or apartments with fellow Rebels abroad, but the thought lingers: I should be there. I should be in the middle of it. I should be home.
So, this Sunday, as Robert Downey lifts (hopefully) the Liam MacCarthy to the sky, and we’re lucky enough to be there to share it – or to watch from home in Cork – let’s spare a thought for our exiles. For all those Rebels around the world doing their best to feel part of it, to join the celebrations from afar, as their home county chases an end to a twenty-year wait.
Once a Rebel, always a Rebel.
