GAA Mum

I never expected that I’d become one of those competitive GAA mums who spend all weekend on the side-lines, screaming at their off spring, demanding more, berating the competition, and complaining about the Ref. Yet here I am, on a bitterly cold November afternoon, stamping my feet on the side of the pitch and slapping my hands to generate some warmth.  The multiple layers I’m wearing can only stave off the chilling wind for so long, and whilst my thermals keep bits of me warm, my extremities are numb and painful.

I perhaps shouldn’t be surprised at the path I’ve taken, given that growing up second generation Irish in London, my entire social  network was informed by the Holy Trinity of the church, Irish dancehalls and the GAA.  My Dads’ passion for everything Irish left us with early childhood memories of Sunday afternoons filled with greasy sausage rolls and running around the wooden sheds at the New Eltham pitches; later experiences of doing the unglamorous, donkey work at multiple fundraising events, and finally as young adults, enjoying the benefits of the social life that goes with any GAA club worth its salt.

My Dad was President of the club he had been an active member of for over 45 years when he died suddenly.  Five months later, the club celebrated its 50th anniversary, and of course, Dad had all the events organised: the bands booked, the games scheduled; the tickets sold; the money in the bank.  I was reliably told that I was the first woman to speak at any of their functions when I addressed the many hundreds of past and present players with the Garryowen Football Club in North London, and spoke about how the GAA had been  such a central part of our growing up; had given us a community to be part of.  So why am I surprised to be here, watching my daughter in trials for the Dublin Gaelic under 14’s?

I watch her every move, noting her effort, her concentration, her energy; but also noting how she laughs when they are given new drills to do; how she smiles to her peers on the pitch, especially when things aren’t going great, and how she mixes without any self consciousness with her fellow players she has only just met.  I don’t understand the game (as she quickly points out if I should attempt any kind of technical reference) but I can see the discipline it requires; the responsibility it engenders, and the healthy attitude it nurtures. And not for the first time, I am grateful for all those who make the GAA the incredible community that it is.