Denis Lehane: It takes a farmer to save the day for Ed

Fixing the lights on the stage at Páirc Uí Chaoimh is all in a day's work for a farmer, writes Denis Lehane

Ed Sheeran on stage at Páirc Uí Chaoimh. Picture: Eddie O'Hare

It's seldom I leave this farm and head for the big smoke.

However, the other evening, I was forced to do so.

Ed Sheeran is a popular man in this house, and with the youngsters mad to see the famous fellow, I was forced to take them to Páirc Uí Chaoimh.

I dropped off my crew outside the front door of the famous stadium and was swinging my old jeep for home when I heard a steward cry aloud: "Is it yourself?"

I roared back that it was indeed me, and sure enough, immediately he came to the window for he hadn't seen me in years.

"I haven't seen you since the Michael Jackson concert of '88," said Dan the steward. "How are things? Have you any news?"

I told him I had no news at all for 'tis the same old craic every day.

Dan, a calf drover by day, was one of the main stewards on the night and, as you might expect, had no trouble at all in steering a herd of people in the right direction.

"Do you have a stick, like you do at the mart?" I enquired.

"No," says he. "They don't allow sticks."

"PC gone mad," I declared.

Anyhow, we were discussing the big prices paid for bullocks at Kanturk mart on Tuesday, and paying little heed as to what was going on around us, when this flush-faced fellow came rushing from the stadium.

"Dan," he roared, "We are in big trouble, all the lights have gone out on stage and there will be hell to pay if we can't get them working again."

Well, naturally, not only did Dan swing into action, but I did so myself.

I abandoned my jeep outside the famous stadium, sure in the knowledge it would be there on my return.

We ran up a flight of stairs, or went as fast as we could for men over the age of 50 and carrying a bit of padding. And sure enough, when we got there we could see the lights on the very impressive stage had gone out.

Underneath the stage, with a torch, was none other than Ed Sheeran himself and he wrestling with cables trying desperately hard to rectify the situation.

"I can't figure it out," says he, for he was mad anxious to get the show on the road.

"Let me have one look at it," says I, pushing the famous musician to one side, and rolling up my sleeves.

"Have ye checked out the fuse on this extension lead?" I asked, for I had seen a similar problem with my fencer back home on the farm only a week before.

And sure enough, as soon as the plug was opened and the fuse replaced, the lights came back on. The crowd went wild.

"Oh Denny," says Ed, for he had gotten to know me at this stage, of course. "I'll be sure and thank you from the stage tonight.

"Do no such thing," I warned. "Any farmer in his right mind would have figured that problem out.

"Go ahead as you normally do and sing your songs.

"And there would be no harm at all in letting off a few fireworks at the end of the night.

"T'would be a mighty way to finish the show," I advised.

"God knows," says Ed. "I might try that."

Then, thanking me again, Ed strapped on his guitar and soon he was gone into the bright lights, and the adulation of the crowd.

With Ed gone, I returned to Dan and our conversation about the bullocks in Kanturk on Tuesday — for pricy they certainly were.