The day Croke Park only narrowly avoided a second Bloody Sunday

THE LATE Bill Shankly famously said that “some people believe football is a matter of life and death. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.”

Growing up in Kerry, All-Ireland football final Sunday was usually important. As a nine-year-old I was lifted over the turnstiles at Croke Park to see Kerry beat Armagh in 1953. One of my abiding memories of the game was watching the crowd spill on to the field at the Canal End as the fencing collapsed at the start of the game.

The stadium gates had been closed, locking out thousands, and a crowd at that end broke through the gates. In the ensuing crush the fencing collapsed, which was a mercy because if it had held the real haunting memory of Croke Park would have been the carnage of that day, not the mortally wounded 15 people on Bloody Sunday, 1920.

There were many more people in Croke Park on that day in 1953 than were at the 1989 game at Hillsborough in Sheffield, when much the same thing happened. A crowd broke down a gate and rushed into the terrace behind one of the goals. But the fencing there held and 96 people were killed in the crush. It was a haunting reminder of how lucky people were in 1953.

The following year Kerry was well beaten by Meath in the final, but 1955 was one of those finals Kerry people would never forget because they beat a much-fancied Dublin team.

Tomorrow will be a unique occasion because, even though Cork and Kerry have played each other almost every year in the championship, this is their first time meeting in an All-Ireland final.

I don’t remember the first Cork v Kerry championship game I saw. The first one I remember was 1956, and I probably remember it because I seemed to think it was more important than life or death.

My mother would not allow me to go to it, or to the replay in Killarney because there would be a crowd from Cork and there was a polio outbreak in Cork city at the time. For the record, Cork won the replay.

Adding insult to injury, Waterford dumped Kerry out in the first round of the next championship in 1957. Not too many Kerry people saw that game. Even some of the team did not bother to turn up. The late John Barrett, The Kerryman reporter, had to tog out as substitute, and his late brother, Tim, who went with him as a spectator, ended up in goal.

It is 50 years since then. If Cork win tomorrow, however, the gloom that will descend over the Kingdom will be like nothing else in the past half century — even the 1982 shock of having Seamus Darby’s goal snatch the five-in-a-row from their grasp.

After this year’s Munster final, many Kerry people feared they would meet Cork again in this championship. If Cork does win this time, it won’t be because Kerry were overconfident and took the game too lightly.

Kerry people remember June 2002 when Michael Ó Sé died suddenly. He was the brother of the Kerry manager Páidí and the father of three of the players, Darragh, Tomás and Marc Ó Sé. They had to play against Cork that Sunday in a replay of the Munster semi-final.

If it had been hurling, maybe it would have been postponed. But it was football, and Bill Shankly probably never knew how right he was!

With the rugby World Cup going on we have the old controversy over the anthem. Cranks were calling Liveline during the week objecting to Ireland’s Call. Of course, most people would prefer Amhrán na bhFiann but surely not at the expense of dividing the united rugby set-up. In accordance with the Good Friday agreement, we “recognise the legitimacy of whatever choice is freely exercised by a majority of the people of Northern Ireland with regard to its status, whether they prefer to continue to support the union with Great Britain or a sovereign united Ireland”.

Furthermore, we agreed to “recognise the birthright of all the people of Northern Ireland to identify themselves and be accepted as Irish or British, or both, as they may so choose.”

Some of those prefer to call themselves British probably because of the behaviour of some of those calling themselves Irish. Even the Provos have formally affirmed a “total and absolute commitment to exclusively democratic and peaceful means.”

If we are going to win over the people of Northern Ireland to the idea of a united Ireland we are going to have to do it by persuasion — by assuring them they have nothing to fear and much to gain in a united Ireland.

Does any intelligent person think we could ever persuade people to join us by trampling on their sentiments? Ireland’s Call, written by Phil Coulter, a Derry nationalist, is intended as a compromise to appeal to both Irish traditions.

While other sports split on this island, the IRFU remained united. It decided that Amhrán na bhFiann would be played at international matches in the South and the British national anthem at international matches in the North. The problem of what to play abroad first cropped up at the initial rugby World Cup in New Zealand 20 years ago. Mick Doyle, the Irish coach, said he only learned of the problem on the eve of Ireland’s first game. The Rose of Tralee was played instead of the anthem.

IRELAND’S Call is undoubtedly more appropriate than the Rose of Tralee for a rugby match. The Irish team played like they were inspired against England at Croke Park after the most memorable rendition of the national anthem this year, but then God Save the Queen was also played that day.

It is ironic that people should kick up a fuss about the national anthem being played in France.

At great sporting occasions like the European Cup finals in Germany and the World Cup finals in both Italy and the United States, as well as the Barcelona and Atlanta Olympics, the hosts got our national anthem wrong each time by playing both first verse and chorus of the Soldier’s Song.

After the Americans got it wrong for the third time with Michelle Smith at Atlanta, I asked the Government Information Service (GIS) what was the national anthem — the first stanza and chorus, or just the chorus of Amhrán na bhFiann? The first two people I talked to there did not know, so they said they would call me back. An hour later they called to say that nobody there knew.

Next day the GIS called with the answer: the chorus of the Soldier’s Song (Amhrán na bhFiann) was formally adopted as the national anthem in 1926, replacing the Fenian anthem, God Save Ireland.”

If even the GIS did not know the actual national anthem after 70 years, nobody should get hung up on it now. If the Irish would play like they did against England at Croke Park, it would worth playing to two anthems. Those would not be any longer than what was played for years.

Of course, if Ireland does well in this World Cup, Ireland’s Call could become a real hit.