Colin Sheridan: If there’s always a tomorrow, what matters today?
RESPECT: Ruan Divilly, son of Galway selector John Divilly, acknowledges the crowd's applause, during the presentation of the 1998 Galway Connacht championship winning team before the Connacht final in Castlebar. Picture: Brendan Moran/Sportsfile
Last Sunday, as an utterly forgettable Connacht final played out in front of a paltry 11,000 or so spectators, members of the 1998 Galway senior football team lurked in the shadows, sipping tea and fighting over egg sandwiches.
As has become custom on days such as these, provincial winners from 25 years previous are given the honour of parading in front of the crowd at half-time, taking the polite applause and giving the 360 degree wave, like a batsman after hitting a century. For the players and their families, it’s a nice moment, an excuse for reunion and a chance to prove to your kids that you were once capable of great things, or at least more than forgetting to put the smoothie in their lunchbox. For the rest of us, it’s an opportunity to smugly comment on who’s aged well, who’s come into a few pound, and who should consider getting the thatch done. On days such as these, so usually fraught with tension, disappointment and hopefully a little joy, the reunions offer some much needed distraction and perspective. Too often some players are absent, lost to illness or accident. Thankfully, in Galway's case, they are all still with us.



