A poem of a great team

A poem of a great team.


We've often heard the legends of warriors fierce and drall,
Of great deeds done in history, of men that dare not fall,
But we have our unsung hero's, whose valour never known,
From the village of Glengooley, who hurled with stick and ball.

Who fought through all divisions of the Senior county ranks,
From the people of this Parish, to the men now we say, "thanks",
Since the Parish club was founded in the year of 1899,
By the single greatest man in Ireland Father Canon. Cormac Ryan.

If he had been alive that day, to see his dream come true,
On the fiftieth anniversary, what this little club could do,
So many years of waiting, had finally come to pass,

When the team and their selectors assembled for first mass,
The congregation gathered there, heads bowed on bended knee,
"God bless you Father Slattery for your blessed plea",
"Oh God go with ye Gooley Boys as ye march into the fray,
and may a Junior County title be with ye on this day...Amen".

The day,..oh the day, the day it was a dirty one, the rain and sleet came down,
But it didn't stop the exodus from our little town,
Traps and bikes thronged the road, all along the way
Them around, that had a few pound, they hired a hackney for the day.

The team arrived to tog out, above at Mossy Walsh's Bar,
Doctor Keane checked the lads out, and stood them all a jar,
A few pints on, in single file, they marched up to the pitch,
Half way there, when nature called, they had to go inside the ditch!

The atmosphere was electric, t'was more than some could stand,
Mike Dan Power got a weakness as the team paraded with the band,
The referee threw up a shillin', no one made a sound,
The Gooley boys had won the toss, they'de play with fall of ground.

The players took up positions, Glengooley versus Bally,
When a thunderous roar came from the crowd, "C'mon boys give 'em sally!"
The ball is in, the game is on, there's no more we can do,
Than to leave it to those fifteen men, who wear the green and blue.

Mike Pat Slattery, and his brother Joe, known affectionately as 'Snail'
Was first to get the ball, stick, hit and pass the ball to Reale,
But, Reale he couldn't hould the ball, no! he had to give the ball away,
And the Bally boys they siezed their chance and made the boys from Gooley pay,

Now, all was not in jeopardy, the game had just begun,
But the Gooley boys would want to tighten and put Bally on the run,
No sooner was the ball pucked out, than here they come again,
And before we had time to blink an eye, they stuck another one in !

"Well, fuck ye bunch of useless whores, will ye mark ye're fucken men,
Who the fuck put Reale on?, take him off and put on Big Dan!",
Young Ryan pucked out the ball, a lovely long ball at that,
t'was collected by his brother Mickey known as 'The Rat'

'The Rat' he darted from his man like a greyhound from the trap,
and percision, pace and accuracy put one straight over the lat,
Now that's ye're stuff Glengooley, ye've the beatens of them yet,
get in around the house now boys and stick one more in the net.
As play resumed, the ball dropped on the 45,
the 'Snail' was first to greet it, and send a bullet down the line,
Mike Pat Slattery and his brother Joe, whose father came from Youghal,
left the corner-back a mile behind and crossed an almighty ball,

"Now that's yer stuff Glengooley", as the roar came from the crowd,
"Saint Jude of Hopeless Cases, Lawrence Kiely's on the ground!"
"Did Anyone See What Happened...T'was that Long Pup Number 9,
C'mon now Ref get out your Book and Show that Pup the line!",

As Kiely was attended to, the Parish said a Prayer,
Were their dreams of County glory to end in just despair?
But Kiely, he arose again like Lazarus from the dead,
With a blood stained number 14 on, and a bandage around his head.

This put fire in their bellies now, the Gooley Boys saw red,
the challenge lay before them and the road was straight ahead.
Young Ger Ryan pucked out the ball, a lovely long ball at that,
T'was collected by his brother Mikey, again, known as 'The Rat'

Young Ger Hogan, whose father came from Youghal,
left the corner back another mile behind and crossed another mighty ball,
And the crowd they gasped in disbelief as that ball soared through the air,

Would it land between the uprights or descend into the square?
The roars and shout they faded out, and a deadly silence fell,
And the only sound that was heard around was the toning of a bell,
The seconds seemed like hours as that ball soared through the air,
And the fifteen men from Glengooley assembled in the square,

When suddenly the clouds were broke, with a blinding flash of light,
and that ball returned back down again with ferocious speed and might,
The Bally Boys just stood there perplexed by what they'de seen,
Could this be really happening or was it all a dream?

When suddenly the silence broke with "C'mon we can't be beat!"
And fifteen men from Glengooley, put the one ball in the net!

*In Memory of the great Bullock Doody who lost a leg in the final,
but played through the pain with a stump and a half!