Ballinhassig are back at the big show, now it's about seizing the opportunity

Ballinhassig’s James O’Callaghan battling with Cloyne’s Noel Cahill in the Cork PIHC semi-final. Pic: Jim Coughlan

THERE was a time when it felt like the whole world was glued to the Carrigaline Pipe Band, or more specifically, the men who marched behind them. If they weren’t, surely there was something wrong with them? 

Whether it was in Kinsale or Carrigaline, Riverstick or Minane Bridge, the sun always shined in September, and Sunday afternoons were far, far longer.

You knew half of the men marching. 

Most Tuesdays and Thursdays were spent watching Noel Cullinane getting them in shape as you pucked away the hours, until your father called time long after the dying of the light. 

In the days before training kits and replica jerseys, standing in the scoreboard corner of the field in Ballinhassig village, you and a group of other similarly infatuated primary school kids would have often wondered how they got their hands on some of the more exotic attire.

Seanie McCarthy might have had a pair of Cork shorts on, and that in itself was a source of enchantment and gave us a small glimpse of the world beyond the south east of Cork; that is, counterintuitively, to the west of the city.

I don’t really know how much of the actual games we watched. 

In 1991, as Ballinhassig homed in on their first south east title since 1973, we were obsessed with getting onto Jack Barrett’s pitch in Kinsale before the final whistle. 

Looking for gaps in the wire, trying not to get caught, vaguely aware of the importance of what was unfolding beyond the fence just so you could take part in the postmortem on the way home in the car.

Two epic county championship games followed in Bandon against Newcestown, and in between climbing up and falling down that great hill behind the far goal in Charlie Hurley Park, the idea copper-fastened deep within that all you wanted to do was wear blue.

That all seems like a foreign country now. Things were different, things were done differently. Now, there is so much to do, so much to keep up with, so much to think about when you have the time to do so. 

In what felt like the blink of an eye, you’re once again watching the players roll onto the field at home while you try and get the next generation to roll off.

Sometimes, when you get the chance to breathe, your heart would ache for a time when everything was smaller, slower, and more local.

The GAA’s greatest strength is often a source of some of its most latent criticism. 

From both without and within, it can seem suffocatingly insular; and yet, paradoxically, that investment in parochialism can lead to the broadening of horizons and the creation of far greater expectations.

Back then, Junior ‘A’ hurling was the pinnacle of ambition in Ballinhassig. In the end, I got there. However, that was more by accident than design, because by the time one century gave way to the next, we were on the verge of something great.

While success may breed success, it also breeds expectation. If that expectation is not fulfilled, that success can become a brimstone around your neck.

That brimstone weighed heavily on Ballinhassig throughout the 1990s, because the 1970s were only a moment ago. 

Three county titles and a brief stint at senior meant that we were an established intermediate club throughout the 1980s, even if only one county final was reached in 1983.

We regraded with the expectation of going back up but we were soon like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, bursting to break out of the bearpit that was the Junior ‘A’ county championship. 

Killeagh beat us in the 1995 county final and by the time Nemo Rangers did the same to us in 2000, we were fairly sick of the Carrigaline Pipe Band. 

And then, after a battle in Kinsale, it all changed. So, 2002 brought an end to our time in purgatory and then all the walls came tumbling down.

Suddenly, we were Munster Junior champions, All-Ireland Junior champions, and whereas it took us 13 seasons to break free from the shackles of junior hurling, we navigated the road to intermediate glory at our third attempt.

Then we were Munster Intermediate champions, got a day out in Croke Park, and were beating the 2004 Cork senior hurling champions in the opening round of the 2006 edition of Cork’s Little All-Ireland.

We even stayed there, won a couple of leagues, and before we knew it, the new set of kids who were down watching training were aiming far, far higher. 

We were knocked down in 2011 only to get back up again in 2012, but the dream came to an end again in 2013.

Much like before, we thought it would only be a temporary hiatus. Our juniors getting to a county final in 2014 only supplemented that feeling. 

However, as we all know, next year can slowly slip further and further away.

This is our 12th attempt at climbing the mountain and the first time we’ve made it back to the big show. After getting so used to hurling in the old Páirc Uí Chaoimh, this will be our first hurling run out on the new one.

Sunday, against Ballincollig, another generation of kids will begin to see what’s possible, get to wonder at how far they can raise the bar when they get the call. 

Back in 2012, we shared the big day with Sarsfields too, a portent of things to come, perhaps? Here’s hoping.

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