Photographs fade but memories last for ever. The Kingdom bring back some of the best memories of my childhood and that same county played a leading role in my sporting career. A villainous role of course and always without that fairy tale ending!
Despite the horrors that county have wrought upon mine, as a child there were no wide-eyed sleepless nights spent staring at the bedroom ceiling. No tossing and turning just sweet dreams of sweet Kerry football.
Raised on a diet of mid-70s football, if you had even the slightest grá for GAA it was hard not to be utterly infected with a healthy dose of Kerryitous. I remember my father having an uncanny resemblance to a certain Pat Spillane. At one stage I recall telling a friend that my Dad played for Kerry! He had game.
I spent much of my childhood out our back yard being Jack O’Shea. He was everything I wanted to be. I would jump off the neighbour’s wall with ball in hand thinking I was soaring through the clouds. And I had the jersey to go with it, never took it off. Winged collars that you could have taken flight with on a windy day!
I also remember walking towards town one day when a car stopped and a head leaned out a the driver’s window and asked "Boy, do you know where the Ballina Stephenites pitch is?" That pitch was my second home but could I get the words out to direct this passer-by from some foreign land with his lilted accent? Could I hell! The words fell out of my mouth. "Up and over and across the bridge, up the town and over past the front". The directions stuttered and mumbled like a baby's first words. The truth is I nearly pissed myself on the spot.
Jack O'Shea of Kerry and Brian Mullins of Dublin ©INPHO/Billy Stickland
It was him. In front of me. The man himself - Jack O’Shea. And he was talking to me. His travelling partner that day was the great Ogie Moran and it was the day before they played Mayo in a National League game in my home club. I ran back to the house like a child on Christmas morning as if I'd just met Santa himself. Santa with slightly more colour in his hair.
I have since spent some memorable days since Jacko previewing games for corporate sponsors on big match days. A nice bite of lunch where I might indulge in a pint or few. Jacko with his glass of orange juice, always the professional. After the match we might review the game to a packed room and I'd be still supping the Guinness but the man himself, lean as a greyhound still, on the juice. I remember one such day in particular where after more than a few I thought I was falling in love with him!
"Do you ever take a drink Jacko?" I inquired. "I do, Dave boy". "Now," said Jacko and it’s called corporate responsibility, "Make sure you make friends with one server before the gig. You can rely on them then to add the gin to the juice. Looks good but tastes even better!".
The master still teaching this kid life lessons on and off the pitch. Now I only drink juice on corporate days.
Kerry were to play a major part in my GAA life. The 1995 All-Ireland U21 final in Tullamore, we ran head-long into a Kerry team that included great names that I'd become all too acquainted with over the next 10 years. Kirby, O’Cinneide , McCarthy, Daly, Hassett and Darragh O’Sé. Managed by the late great legend Paidí. We had them on the rack that day but, as I’d come to discover, you get one chance at the Kerry boys. It went to a replay in Thurles, Kerry the villains and the victors.
Revenge was sweet in 1996 as we went on to beat a Kerry team containing many of that same U21 team in the All-Ireland semi-final. Truth be told, I didn’t start that day after tearing my hamstring in the build-up. Couldn’t even tog. I was part of the squad and on reflection I’m not sure has anyone had a worse hangover in a dressing room in Croke Park.
The night before the game, after our team meeting, myself and three other senior members of the panel descended on the city. It was a 5am wrap in Copper Face Jacks. That's where I'd like this piece to end because it all went downhill from there!
All-Ireland final losses in 1997, 2004 and 2006. No shows and non contests. Utter bloody disaster.
My journey as supporter continued in the All-Ireland semi-final defeat in 2014 in a game that had everything and was an enthralling encounter. The replay in Limerick would have put the action at The Colosseum in Rome to shame. It was football at its rawest and at its finest. Thrills and spills with blood, pitch battles and incursions. Garda escorts and referee protection. Mistrust. Disgust. Elation and despair. It had it all but once again Mayo came up short.
After all these years, a catalogue of losses and heartbreak you'd think there would be a hatred brewing and a coldness toward the Green and Gold of Kerry. But there’s not one jot from this Mayo man.
Sunday represents a very realistic opportunity of turning over 21 years of pain. Not hurt, but pain. And memories. The good ones and the not so good. Roll on Sunday.
Confession: I said "not a sleepless night was had". I lied. I've been on sleeping tablets since Limerick 2014!
This article was brought to you in association with Bord Gáis Energy, proud sponsor of the GAA Hurling All-Ireland Senior Championship – keep up to date and follow #HurlingToTheCore
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