Divisional Involvement in the Senior Ranks.........It’s worth giving it socks

"Fair play for turning up tonight lads"

Who the hell praises senior footballers for simply 'turning up'? This was my first thought as I packed away my well-worn black and amber socks for another year. I might just get next year out of them too I mused after we were handed a tonking by neighbours Duhallow that allowed us to exit the 2015 championship at just the right time…….the start!!!

A lot of things irked me greatly as I drove home from Banteer that night. ‘Turning up’…….an embarrassingly low accolade for any senior footballer. Who in their right mind could be happy with just ‘turning up’? What irked me more was the fact that we barely managed to field a team and up until 20 minutes before throw-in we were still a few cards short of the full deck. We hadn’t once trained together and I won't lie, on the night in question, I didn't even know the names of some of the lads I was playing with. This was senior championship, the pinnacle competition in Cork for footballers, and here we were reduced to being happy with a warm dinner and a thank you. What a load of rubbish.

Thankfully, it wasn’t just me who thought this wasn’t right. Thankfully there were others. Thankfully, they would do something about it.

In the twilight of 2015, talks had commenced with a view of formulating a plan which would allow the division go and compete in the 2016 championship. In fairness to Martin (Crummy) he was doing a stellar job in making all the right soundings when chatting to players. I wasn’t holding my breath. Ever before our first gathering of 2016 it was communicated to ‘the squad’ (still mystical at this point) that Avondhu had a full management team in place. Jesus, a team of people willing to bear the wrath of the clubs of North Cork for taking their players for the odd mid-week challenge game and a beating in championship - brave men. 

That all changed on a cold, snowy night at the end of January though. On the drive back to Mallow I had visions of arriving for training and seeing 5/6 lads sitting quietly in the dressing room, all afraid to be the first one to tog off with no one talking to each other. The patterns of the timber benches visible where broken promises of commitment now lay.

18 turned up and trained while 6 more hardy souls watched on. The pitch was a wonderful display of markers, interspersed with cones, poles and ladders. A schedule was presented to each player with the next few months laid out and agreed with clubs and the board. Selectors were all on site – looking resplendid in high-vis and representing a multitude of clubs. Excuses, mostly valid, were provided for those no-shows. As I put on my lycra tights that first night I was simply happy that whatever happens from now until the end of the year we will have already surpassed last year’s miserly efforts. Management had put the structures in place down to a tee, it appeared that players were just required to turn up to the tee box on time. 

The big conundrum for all divisional sides is how you keep 30 club players happy in one squad with only a number between 1 and 15 of interest to each? Each players a senior figure in the local parish but a possibly a junior member in the senior community. A score getter, a ball fetcher, a tight marker but when it came to the division they could be relegated to onlooker. This is where management needed to excel and did. As the weeks and months rolled by and the evenings stretched out the level of enthusiasm remained constant. Challenge games, intense sessions, lengthy emails, text messages, phone calls and even the odd social media interaction kept the show on the road. It even got to the stage where we were wishing each other best of luck in our respective championships!

It is worth remembering that the players, by signing up to this project, were now not only giving up their free nights between club sessions, they are also writing off another fraction of their already marginalised social life. The answer to the why here is simple, because of the lure that is the GAA, a drug so to speak. This ‘drug’ is harvested annually, and in perpetuity, by club teams the length and breadth of the country and now us players were being offered a little more. The drug though was not simply just playing football, it was being part of a set-up that allowed us to learn and develop from the standards required at this level.

This level of desire to be involved in a fully functional senior set-up without even the guarantee of first team football reminded me a small bit of Super Mario on the Nintendo 64. A game of moving onto different levels, each more difficult and more challenging than the previous. You were never happy with the level you were on. You always wanted to take the next step up. I for one can never remember being happy with remaining on the same level. A well-structured divisional set up provides players who might have the commitment and ambition of an inter-county player but may not be blessed with the same skill set an opportunity to challenge himself at the highest level. It’s what we all want to do right?

Of course there were obstacles, it would be remiss of me not to mention these. The club championship is the enemy and the nature of the beast dictates that club takes priority for players. Packed club schedules were the nightmare that management lived every weekend and regularly players were being asked to play 2 championship games a weekend. Were there complaints? Of course. Did it have an impact? Certainly. Did it stop anyone playing? No.

Our first victory in the preliminary round showed that we were all justified in taking this approach. I had a great sense of pride that night. Funnily enough, due to the change in structure that actually only put us into the first round of the championship proper. This had now turned into a chase for glory and not just a 'turning up' exercise. That's why the last minute goal that we conceded against Valley hurt more than many of the club defeats I have felt over the last few years. Momentum halted and trying to find the positives were hard but hey, at least we had got new socks out of the year.  

At this juncture the opportunity arose for players to throw in the towel. The excuses were there for everyone, 'club championship', ‘I've too much on my plate', 'I'm not getting any game time', 'invisible niggle is flaring up again', 'festival season upon us'. Take your pick. But not this year. No. We had signed up for this and we were not leaving the trenches until we had to. Management got a crowbar, wedged it under the now static boulder and away we went again. Victories followed against Skibb, Muskerry, Newscestown and Duhallow. Stories of personal sacrifices, usually reserved for the club scene, from both players and management gave you a sense that everyone was pulling in the same direction. A vital ingredient in the success of any division/colleges campaign.

We didn't win the championship, we didn't even make the final in the end. But what we did was restore the Avondhu brand and the pride in playing for the division. A brand that didn't even exist in some bookmakers blackboards when the odds were being computed at the start of the year. From that marketing standpoint alone our efforts have paid dividends. But what it also did, internal to our own division in this case, was show the young playing members across all non-senior clubs in North Cork, was that playing at the highest level (hurling as well as football) should not be out of reach for anyone with the ambition, commitment and dedication.

For me, there was no better feeling than representing your clubs team mates, your family, your parish when putting on a divisional jersey. For many, this is as close to top level as you are you are going to get. So when that opportunity to step out at the highest level comes along you should be willing to take it with both hands. As the year closed out I found myself wishing the Fermoy and Kildorrery lad’s best wishes in the remainder of their championships, this was a previously alien concept but was probably one of the strongest barometers to measure the success of the campaign. 

Could more be done for the colleges/divisions such as a spring league where the 8 divisions/colleges (10 if Imokilly and Carrigdhoun re-entered the fold) were put into two leagues. Games to be played mid-week under lights and a final to be played between the top teams from both sides. At least this way the pressure to find challenge games is reduced and it could be managed under one heading. It might encourage more players to get involved in such set-ups and may help in nurturing and producing young talent who will be experienced in competitive senior action.

Look, the whole system is not without challenges I agree, but any notion of reducing the number of teams in the senior club championship in Cork by ridding itself of the colleges/divisions involvement, now or in the future, should be met with strong resistance. We may not be able to go on the same journey next year, and it may be a few years before it will happen again, but it certainly will happen again of that I’m sure. At the end of 2015 I would not have said this.

If progress was measured in clothing, well, we got more than just new socks out of the year. 

FARMING: When you know Farming isn't for you – STUPIDITY (2/4)

"I was old enough to realise that I was in deep shit, but I was clever enough to leave him sit there"

It was mid June and the year was 2005, making me about 18 years young. This particular day I was struck down with a deep lying and dull toothache - you know the ones where the painkillers numb the pain initially but when they wear off its a pain like no other! I was well able to feel sorry for myself so I was, and so without breaking stride I upped the dramatics a notch or two when I saw the rest of the family preparing for their annual 'spring-clean', usually meaning that the relation from the US/UK were on the way. My appetite for work was never strong and any impediment that could bring me down I usually did my best to fall over it. This time though I would have gladly thrown on the gladrags and put my weight to the wheel because oh man did it hurt!  

After a dinner of flat diet 7-up and occasional groans (to add effect and highlight my plight in front of the workforce) I took my pitiful self to the only man who could save me now.....the dentist. It was actually a simple enough procedure in the end to remove a wisdom tooth that was acting non too wise. I got home to tell the tale to who ever would listen but I was back asleep before that little star Twinkle Twinkle had even got close to being like a diamond in the sky. 

I woke suddenly about 5 hours later (it was actually more like 20 minutes) crouched awkwardly on the sofa with drool everywhere. 'I'll just turn these over and no one will ever know'. But what had brought me to my senses was actually a thunderous and forceful banging noise from the exterior. Dad was at the window crouched down with an apron on (work related apron - dad wasn't one for the cooking apron types) and a face that told a story of a hard days work. COME OUT HERE YOU AND DRIVE THIS TRACTOR FOR ME (Caps locks to identify the urgency and aggression in his delivery). I was a little dazed but at his bequest I wiped away the remaining drool and responded in the affirmative. 

When I made my way out I, like those good detectives I was used to seeing on 'the Bill', surveyed the scene. He was looking to clean the gutters, the ladies of the house could not drive the tractor, I could (barely) so it was my duty to help him reach these sludge filled viaducts and save the day - simple as pie. 

LIFT ME UP THERE as he pointed to the tractor loader and the roof with one shot of his right arm.  I quickly snapped out of detective mode and back into pleb mode as I understood the significance of the cap locks as he waited patiently in the bucket of the loader. In truth I wasn't at the races to be honest and it took me a few goes to turn on the bloody tractor.......ahhh the automatic stop was pulled out, better push that back in. I gave an apologetic look out the window and the response was one of HURRY THE FCUK ON (it is important to note that if I had anything bigger than CAP LOCKS I would be using them right here!!). 

It started well though, and by that I mean I got him high enough to reach into the drainpipe and clear out the horrible stuff. There was loads of it stuck in the drainpipe so we were stuck in the same position for a few minutes at a time. Slow progress but progress none the less as I eeked my way forward, a few slow yards at a time. Disaster was about to strike though. Between the sun pelting down and the local anesthetic not fully wearing off I must have slipped off into the land of nod. Not for very long, but long enough to know that I was in deep shit when I woke up! 

All would have been fine and dandy if I pulled up the handbrake or took the vehicle out of gear but did I? Of course I didn't!!! That would have been far too sensible. So when darkness hit me the tractor sprung into life and the only thing that could stop it was the roof of the porch, which it invariably did......with massive consequences! It wasn't the noise of the impact that woke me though! Nope, not the noise of the tractor pummeling into the porch, nor the noise of the slates smashing off the ground. No, it was the noise of my dad. This time the cap locks dont do justice to the abuse that was hurdling my way. Where do I look? What do I do? Well my sisters and mother were no help as they ran away to laugh out loud (no - they did not LOL as this was still the era of CD's, baggy clothes and text messages) in a location that wasn't in front view of the father. Lord Jesus he was still roaring I thought to myself. 

It the struck me..........I was still in control of the situation. He was up there, I was down here. The only way down was if I let him down. Me. 

We finished the gutter and I finally let him down. We didn't really say much about it at the time but from then on I sensed that my brother, 10 years my junior, was probably now heir to family farm......and could I really have any complaints!?!!