Cherish the characters who make the game mean more

Every county has its own characters who are known far and wide and embody what the GAA is all about. 

CHERISH THE CHARACTERS: The late Ger Murphy, fan of Castleisland Desmonds, Kerry, Leeds Utd and friend to many.

This is what rituals are for. Kerry vs Cork in Killarney in the Munster Championship. Bask in the glow. Blood red versus green and gold. It’s intimate and familiar. No matter if we worry about the future, find the present predictable and prefer to reminisce about the past. The game will always be a stimulus.

This fixture still means something. In the simplicity of our childhood, it always meant an overnight bag and trek to my parent’s native county. It meant a stint in their hometown of Castleisland. It meant a visit to Moloney’s bakery for cheesecakes and buns. It meant a spin into Tommy Hickey’s one-stop shop for anything and everything. An eclectic mix of toys, music, road signs, garden furniture and more. Pockets laden down with dinkey cars, gobstobbers and magic markers.

And it meant a race through the door of Vincent Murphy’s Sports Shop at the bottom of the street. Every sort of kit imaginable is in that magical store. Its front reaches three stories high, each window packed with Kerry garments. That was the final haven on our lap of the second-widest street in the country. Willy Wonka’s factory couldn’t rival that trio.

Castleisland is a sporting-obsessed area. Basketball, athletics, soccer, rugby and Gaelic football. Always Gaelic football. They live for days like Saturday. This weekend a cloud looms large. The parish lost two men whose lives were very much intertwined with the GAA. On Friday, Castleisland Desmonds posted two touching tributes within 90 minutes of each other.

Derry Sheehan managed the senior side during the late 1990s and 2000s. He died peacefully in the University Hospital. He also coached my dad’s minor team. At the time he worked in Moloney’s bakery. As a result, he was known as ‘Derry donuts’. He stoked a love for the game, maintaining a torch that is has been passed through generational hands. News of his passing brought about a wave of sadness mixed with warm memories.

At the bottom of town, the front door of Murphy’s shop is locked. A black band is tied to the front door. Vincent’s son, Gerard, died unexpectedly. He ran the operation in recent years. In truth he was the star attraction. The tragedy of it all is shattering. A shock that only swells with every passing hour. Vincent’s son, Fergal, passed away last year. His wife Mary died in July. Gerdie also left behind a heartbroken wife Joan, a brother Rory, extended family and a wide circle of friends.

Every county has a town like Castleisland. Every town has a character like Gerdie. You probably knew him to see. That happy-go-lucky man outside Croke Park clad head-to-toe in glittering Kingdom shades before All-Ireland finals? That was Gerdie. His sheen signalled the march for Sam. Another deep drop in the sea of colour that brightens the big day.

When the Kerry Group wanted to produce a video celebrating the pride of Kerry, they interviewed a host of current players and coaches including David Clifford, Louise Ní Mhuircheartaigh and Jack O’Connor. They also featured Gerdie.

“Anyone that is aware of Kerry knows how football mad the people are in Kerry,” Clifford said after Gerdie’s contribution. “It fills you with an awful lot of pride to be able to represent them.” 

He was a fan of all sports. He was a titan of the annual basketball blitz. He loved Leeds United. He raced the 100m at An Ríocht running club and used this pace as a winger in rugby. Desmonds held his heart. Last year the Clifford’s Fossa came to play in the intermediate quarter-final. 3,000 people packed the club ground. It went to extra-time. Christmas come early.

Gerdie was the type of character who’d wrap an arm around your shoulder at the back of Hartnett's Bar and impart wisdom on everything from the Ryder Cup to the old Astor discos. He was the type of character who ensured a quick stop in the door of the shop for a spare football meant an hour long stay rife with belly laughs. He was the type of character who, when you ring your brother overseas to share the sad news, he immediately turns to his housemate and passes it on. His housemate has never been to Castleisland. He never met Gerdie. But he knew the legend.

Happiest with Sam: The late Gerdie Murphy of Castleisland

He was missed in Fitzgerald Stadium. The day was duller without him. That fundamental truth preoccupied the mind as we headed out Lewis road on Saturday night. Everyone will remember what the GAA meant to people like Derry and Gerdie. No one should forget what they meant to the GAA.

They are part of the integral ties that bind the entire association. What is an entertaining contest without great characters to chat with about it? Wonderous scores need to be celebrated, magnificent performances lauded, robust tackles dissected and future prospects vetted.

It doesn’t matter if the provincial championships are obsolete or the sod is primed or the weather is chronic or the calendar too compact or the game is even good. What matters is that it supplies a spoke so the wheel can turn. A chance to come together and gossip or row. To ponder how long this 29-year record will last and isn’t Seanie Shea flying it and do you reckon Jack is happy with how they are motoring now. Every conversation was a welcomed sign that even if we are stone-mad for caring so much about this damned pursuit, at least we’re not alone in doing so.

The games go on, Kerry won while left behind in Castleisland is a void that will never be filled. And a reminder to cherish the people who make it mean what it does while we can.

Ar dheis Dé go raibh a n-anamacha dílse