Another Mayo Day…

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Well the teenager and boys have just headed off to school for the second Mayo day this year. Faces painted in little red and green flags, knitted scarves round their head, one new extortionately priced Mayo jersey on the oldest, one twin wearing a jersey that was current during the height of the Celtic tiger and the other is styling a very fashionable and possibly the last red and green t-shirts branded MAYO in the county. The last time there were 2 Mayo days was 1996, 20 years ago and I remember it very well, because it was me who skipped off to 3rd year in the convent school wearing a jersey that was at least 10 years old…yes I wore a jersey to my Mayo day that was at least circa 1986!! This ‘artefact’ was dug out from my brothers old wardrobe (I still don’t know what brother it was…here is a bit of perspective my oldest brother is 19 years older than me, so what year this jersey was sewn up and sold in an actual shop was anyone’s guess… But I digress… for me this is the 8th All-Ireland football final Mayo have been part of… I vaguely remember 1989 final build up, but what I do remember is the excitement in the town, the colour and the smiles. Men and women who were children when Sam came home in ’50 and ’51 were now creeping towards their 50’s and the sense of nostalgia and hope was so strong you could touch it. The colour and excitement of finals hasn’t changed that much throughout the years in the county but we have become experts at turning the volume down on the predictions and the bragging and nervous excitement is the sense that can be felt. This year especially, the county is calm, excited of course! But calm. It almost feels right that there is a replay, that the natural order of things is taking place. The planets are aligning with whatever they aligned with 65 years ago *my guess is Pluto*. It just might happen, Mayo will no longer be the poor bridesmaid dressed in peach sateen ruffles and lace, this year she might just be the beautiful bride dressed in ivory Vera Wang silk… to quote Shakespeare (poorly) “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow” … by 7.30 tomorrow evening we will know…

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