'They're different alright. It's probably because of the crossover with other sports. For most people in this county, everything starts and ends with football. These fellas come from a different perspective. Winning North Mayo under-16s means nothing to them. They mightn't know everyone in the club, who's even secretary. There's a certain con"dence about them. When you're marking 6'6" Americans and listening to their trash talk and have opposing fans in your face, you develop that. Starting out, they can't understand why the town is closing down to go to Dublin to play the Dubs or Kerry; sure isn't Dublin where they go four times a year to play the likes of [Saint] Vincent's and Killester? It gives them a more level-headed approach to these big games and that can come across as arrogance' Television analyst and fellow Ballina Stephenite, Kevin McStay Only a few places have something like it. In hurling, Blackrock has produced a litany of corner and wing-backs for Cork . . . Brohan, Horgan, Cashman, McCurtain, Ryan, Browne, Sherlock. In football, nearly every Cork forward with flair and scoring power this last 30 years seems to have come out of Nemo Rangers . . . Allen, Kavanagh, Corkery, Masters.
In Kerry, An Ghaeltacht, or more specifically, the O Se household has been a conveyer belt of wing-backs for the county; Killarney, from Dick Fitzgerald to Gooch, a breeding ground for cornerforwards. Any centre forward in Donegal now hails from Kilcar, any barnstorming midfielder or cerebral forward in Meath, from Skryne.
Then there's Ballina. Kevin Walsh once said Mayo was a county coming down with midfielders. In recent times the best of those have come from one club. Ten years ago Liam McHale and David Brady partnered each other in an All Ireland final. Now another two Ballina Stephenites, Ronan McGarrity and Pat Harte, are 70 minutes away from doing the same.
It's kind of been an accident, this midfield dynasty.
Rugby was Brady's game, hoops McGarrity and McHale's, while Harte had a thing for hurling. None of them played minor for the county. They were too busy, too raw, or in McHale's case, not bothered. In 1985 the Connacht club final clashed with a national league basketball game. It was no dilemma for Liam. He played the basketball.
"When I was 21, 22, I couldn't care less about football, " smiles McHale, from behind the counter of his Mac's Bar on Ballina's Hill Street. "The Friday night before the '88 [All Ireland] semi-final against Meath [in which he'd score a goal], I had 14 pints in Pearls [nightclub]. I just played football for fun. Basketball was everything. But like Ronan, slowly but surely I got more hooked on the Gaelic, the big games, the live TV."
If they had a turning point, it was losing an All Ireland final. In 1989 McHale, in the words of Martin Carney, "almost single-handedly" brought Mayo to a meeting with Cork, only to be, in McHale's own words, "harried around the place by Shay Fahy and the boys". Fifteen years later McGarrity was on a Mayo team who, as he puts it himself, were simply "bullied" by Kerry. Jack O'Connor had been right to suspect it was too much to expect some kid who'd been in the States on a basketball scholarship to just come back after playing football for a summer in New York and within a year deny Kerry an All Ireland. That day, McGarrity discovered he was "a child".
It might not have been so pronounced if Brady had started alongside him. After being a raw, disposable player, Brady by 2001 had developed into one of the country's elite midfielders, and was Mayo's standout player in their league triumph. Two years later though when he dabbled again in some AIL rugby, John Maughan failed to accommodate him, and though they would team up again in 2004 to storm through Connacht and Tyrone, the residue of '03 came to the fore again.
Caught in the crossfire between two of Mayo football's biggest personalities was a third. Maughan's assistant. Brady's clubman.
McHale.
"That was very awkward, " admits McHale. "In '03 when it got out of control between John and David, I tried to stay out of it. For obvious reasons. I said, 'John, I played football with this fella. I don't want to get involved.' [Third selector] George [Golden] called up to the house and DB was back for '04 but we felt after the first Fermanagh game there wasn't 70 minutes in him, not in midfield anyway.
"DB would have felt at the time that I could have supported him more. But I genuinely . . . and I never told David this . . . pushed to have him play him in the half-forward line. John and George will tell you that. We were thinking of going big and that was probably the mistake we made . . . not going big. At the time the feeling was we could get 35 to 45 minutes out of Fergal and then put David in when the game was on the line."
McGarrity's take on that saga is interesting. Most players, immersed in Gah-land and Gah-speak, would on or off the record talk about how ludicrous it was that their clubman was snubbed and that a plough horse like Kelly was on the track that day while Brady was left in the stable. Not McGarrity. He respected Brady ("we have a great understanding") but he respected Kelly too. "I remember saying in an interview before the 2004 final that Billy Joe [Padden] and Fergal were extremely tough training partners. If Fergal wasn't better at you in training one night, he was the next.
He's one of the best midfield partners I've played with."
And yourself and DB now, Liam? How are the two of you?
"Sound, yeah. He comes in here [to Mac's bar] the odd time for a drink. The problem he had was with John."
Brady and McHale had been through a lot together.
The '96 finals against Meath.
The '99 All Ireland club final against Crossmaglen when they owned midfield but kicked their share of Ballina's 17 wides ("I met Jim McConville afterwards in the players' lounge, " says McHale, "and he was embarrassed. I'd say they'd nearly have preferred a draw and then try and hammer us in the replay"). They also ended up alongside each other for the last 10 minutes of that year's All Ireland semi-final defeat to Cork but by then it was too late. "I'm great friends with John Maughan, " says Kevin McStay, "but I'll never understand why he had his two greatest warriors [Noel Connelly and McHale] on the line that day." In 2003 McHale would come out of retirement and Brady would come back from Australia to help the club to another county championship but when it finally made the All Ireland breakthrough 18 months later, McGarrity was Brady's wingman. McHale was in the stand, and that night back working in his bar and "listening to young ones screaming their heads off upstairs".
"I thought that was quite sad, " says Martin Carney. "He deserved that medal for the service he gave."
How did you feel that day, Liam?
"I was delighted. I couldn't enjoy the game when it was on but when the whistle wentf delighted. I'd love to have been involved obviously but like, I was 39. I wouldn't have wanted [Ballina's] Tommy Lyons saying 'Here, there's two minutes left; go in now and get your medal.' If we hadn't gone [basketball] Superleague and I wasn't a selector with the county, I might have been there but you make these decisions and move on. I was with the lads in the players' lounge afterwards and a few people came up saying 'Jesus, it's a pity you weren't there' but that can be a bit annoying when you're trying to relax and have the craic with the boys."
For McGarrity, that time was a blur. While to most observers he played well for someone carrying a leg injury, McGarrity reckons he was "absolutely woeful". What he does remember is the town having its Patrick's Day parade the following day. It took that reception for it to dawn what they'd achieved, what football meant. Up to then it had just been what McStay calls his "nice-tohave sport". Even around the time of the county semi-final he had stated he was "looking forward to the football finishing so I can just concentrate on the basketball".
Basketball was his passion.
Always was the moment he saw Liam McHale play it and probably always will. The football? Last year he "detested it" but only because he had been playing it non-stop for two years. Last year's Connacht final hurt him and his pride more than any game in any sport he knew.
"I'll never forget walking off the pitch that day and the abuse that was thrown at us from Galway people. It was one of those games where months later you could be sitting down, staring at the wall and all of a sudden it would come back to haunt you. I was chomping to get at them again this year."
It showed. So has all the work he's put into his game.
He's got a grip on it and it's got a grip on him. Carney has noted McGarrity's maturity, his grasp of the game's nuances that were absent in his rookie year. He's been struck by Harte's development too. A few weeks ago Ballina played Castlebar Mitchells, whom Carney is a selector for, in the championship. Pitted against each other were last year's Mayo midfield . . . Barry Moran and Shane Fitzmaurice . . . and this year's. It was no contest.
Harte and McGarrity won hands down.
"Pat just has this incredible engine, " says McGarrity, "and he's a great passer and ball-carrier. He has a lot more elements to his game than I do."
"He loves the game, " nods McHale. "He doesn't drink or smoke; he trains every day, like Ronan. He's one of these fellas who can't stand still.
Like, he'll always have a different car, because he'll service your car. I met him one night at 10 o'clock and asked where he was going. He said, 'Carrick-on-Shannon, to a disco.' Another fella wouldn't dream of doing that but that's the kind of character he is. He loves driving, doing his own thing."
At some stage today the pair of them might be joined by Brady. His season has been ruined by injuries but you couldn't miss him this past few months cycling around the town and last Sunday warming up along the touchline. He came on to win the 2004 All Ireland semi-final.
He could be the difference again today.
As for McHale, this year was the first time in 20 years he wasn't either playing for or coaching a Mayo team, and this coming season will be the first one in 25 years he won't play National League or Cup basketball; the leg and back last year finally gave up. He's kept busy though. RTE called him during the week to ask him to cocommentate Ireland's upcoming game against Romania, he's coaching a club football team in Sligo, while hoops and football talk still absorb him. Like Kieran Donaghy ("He's a right good basketballer; has a lot of strings to his bow") and who might mark him in the All Ireland final ("Sure, with [John] Morrison, it could be [5'7] Dermot Geraghty!") and the progress of his three clubmen, proteges, legacy.
Right. So the four of you all in your prime. Harte moves out to the wing. Who plays in the middle? Who loses out?
"I'd say I would [lose out], " says McGarrity.
"I wouldn't be on the bench anyway!" laughs McHale.
"The two boys would be fighting for the number nine jersey! That's what I used to say to [county secretary Sean] Feeney when I'd come back after the basketball season.
'Make sure you get a double X number eight!'" It was a big jersey alright.
Big men have filled it.
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