Time to let the breeze fade a little for this Northern soul

My uncle Pat once declared that he owns one of the rarest books in existence. Pat said he has a volume of his brother’s poetry which isn’t signed.

I have one of the more common editions of Seamus’s books, and it’s a cherished possession, especially because of the inscription on the flyleaf.

In my copy of Human Chain, Seamus wrote: “For Paddy — who always gives us a lift with the breeze.”

I’m not exactly sure how often Seamus read my Against the Breeze column, but I’ll take the praise anyway.

While humbled to receive such an endorsement, I have always interpreted that line as an exhortation to keep the column going.

Seamus believed in ‘keeping going’. And if a man writes an article which gives people ‘a lift’, then surely he has a duty to persist with it?

Perhaps that explains why I feel slightly torn today because this will be the last Against the Breeze for a while— and possibly forever.

I realise this announcement is abrupt and there has been little forewarning but there’s no easy way to end a relationship.

Because that’s what this is — a relationship. Over the past 15 years, you’ve got to know me, whereas I, on the other hand, have always known you.

It’s often said that the secret of effective communication is to know your audience. That’s why it was easy for me to make a connection with readers of The Irish News (and in more recent years, the Irish Examiner).

Maghera. Watty Graham’s, Glen. Derry. A country boy writing for country people. I knew the ground.

First and foremost, however, I was always a reader of The Irish News. As a boy, it was my job to go to the shop and buy it.

As a teenager, the first thing I did when I got home from school was make a cup of tea and read it.

Back then, I was more interested in reading about politics than sport. A rabid non-violent republican, I spent most of my youth in a state of total confusion.

Now, I realise I was just ahead of my time.

The first time I saw my words appear in print was in The Irish News. At 17, I took grave exception to a letter penned by ‘Glenarm Loyalist’.

Seething with rage, the young rebel Heaney did his bit to free Ireland by issuing a strongly worded rebuke, none of which I can remember. The only thing I can recall was my pseudonym. I was ‘South Derry Youth.’ It came as a huge surprise when the letter was actually printed. The novelty value was immense. It’s a marvellous thing to see your words in formal newsprint.

Maybe that experience sowed the seeds for my journey into newspapers. I don’t know. What I do know is that even when I made the leap into journalism, I never planned to be a sports columnist. It wasn’t even an ambition.

I wanted to cover games. I wanted to be a feature writer. But I had only been a freelance journalist for three months when John Haughey, the then sports editor, asked me to write a weekly column.

I didn’t want to do it. I had no experience. I was a greenhorn. The prospect frightened me. But it also excited me. If I could avoid libel action and being chased through the streets, I could see how it might work. Thanks largely to Kenny Archer’s judicious eye; I at least managed to stay clear of the courts.

Suffice to say, I have managed to upset one or two people over the years.

Sometimes it was intentional. More often, it wasn’t. Naturally enough, there have been arguments and fall-outs about various opinions but that’s goes with the territory.

My great blessing was that I was mostly writing about, and for, GAA people.

Tension and suspicion are part and parcel of the competitive GAA environment. But so is common decency and I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the charity and graciousness of the managers, players and officials who contributed to what appeared in this column every week.

All in all, writing Against the Breeze has been an enormously fulfilling experience. It has allowed me to write about the people and places I know. To do that wasn’t a task, it was a privilege.

For example, a few months ago, a reader complimented me on a column I wrote about the late Alex Woods, a local man who taught me how to fly fish.

Bereft of the words to fully articulate why he enjoyed the column, the reader took a vice-like grip of forearm. While shaking my arm firmly, he kept repeating: “You got him, Paddy, you got him.” I will miss that connection.

However, while writing a column is a privilege, it’s also a bloody curse. Like Philip Larkin’s ‘toad work’, Against the Breeze has squatted on my shoulder for nearly 16 years.

From the outset, I’ve tried my best to produce an article every week. And I’ve lost count of the number of Monday mornings I’ve woken up to a blank mind and a blinking cursor.

Columns have been written everywhere from the back of a bus to New York’s Public Library. They’ve been filed from Perth, Melbourne, Boston, San Francisco, Shanghai and Kuala Lumpur. Yes, I know. It hasn’t been easy. But I stuck at it.

When working as a full-time journalist, it was probably easier to summon ideas. At the coalface, you’re immersed in it.

But since opening a gym, my head and heart are elsewhere. And as my wife will readily testify, I am the world’s worst multi-tasker. I am the man that can’t write a text message and listen to a question at the same time. I don’t even hear the question.

Writing a column about Gaelic Games while leading a life which is totally absorbed in strength and conditioning, personal training and fitness classes is nigh impossible for me.

The great thing and the awful thing about a column is your name is on it. And if my name is on something, I want to be proud of it. At the very least, I don’t want it to be a source of shame.

If I keep writing this column under the current conditions, I fear that standards will plummet (even lower than normal!). I don’t want that to happen.

That’s why it’s better if I can get out now. It might be for a few months. It might be forever. I don’t know. Time will tell.

In the meantime, if you’ve been regular reader, I sincerely hope that every now and again, I managed to give you ‘a lift’. That was always the main intention.

And to you, my readers, thank you. Because you have lifted me.

Yours, South Derry Youth.