Mayo GAA driven to honour their treasured memories of a friend
ON Wednesday, John Casey’s mobile phone pinged. A photograph of a trip to Anfield and a reminder of good times with a good friend in Colm Horkan — or ‘the Bear’ as he was affectionately known to Casey and so many in Charlestown, the Mayo community and the GAA club he served.
A reminder, too, of a year of tragedy and trauma, one in which the Detective Garda was shot dead in shock circumstances while on duty in Castlerea, Co Roscommon, back in June.
‘A friend of mine is only after sending me a picture about an hour ago,’ says Casey, when he takes the call. ‘A picture of myself and Colm and this lad Alan Reilly, a prison officer in Dublin, over in the dressing rooms in Anfield. Just the three of us on my stag party. I went, “Jesus Christ above”.
‘When you get a minute to think about it, you miss a heartbeat. You lose your breath. Seeing that picture today of me and him sitting in the dressing room in Anfield — he’s in front, I’ve my arm around him and he’s sitting in front of Jamie Carragher’s jersey. I’m sitting in front of Stéphane Henchoz and my friend Alan is in front of Sami Hyypia’s.
‘That’s the picture that landed today. That sends it home. To think that he’s above in a grave with his sister and mother...’
Horkan’s memory is like a thread that has been stitched through this year’s Mayo championship, which has been building up to this weekend’s semi-final double bill as Breaffy take on Westport and Knockmore square off against Ballina Stephenites.
When Breaffy met Charlestown in the group stage, Aidan O’Shea presented a finely carved plaque in Det Garda Horkan’s memory on behalf of his club. Charlestown county star Tom Parsons received the gesture.
Last weekend, the club’s win over Claremorris in a relegation play-off secured their senior status for another year. The victory carried a powerful punch given the year that’s past.
The sense of a country coming together to honour the slain Garda’s life was evident from the State send-off, the memorial service on the grounds of Áras an Uachtaráin led by President Michael D Higgins.
‘It was a very humbling experience,’ says Casey. ‘Six of the Mayo lads carried Colm’s coffin. A State funeral, the guards are in charge. But they gave us special permission. The Horkan family insisted that the GAA have a big part in carrying Colm. So we all helped. Not fully from his own house because it is a bit of a hike from the church, but from the outskirts of the town. Took turns in groups of six. As did six Mayo players — David Clarke, Aidan O’Shea, Tom Parsons, James Horan, Colm Boyle and Cillian O’Connor.
‘People were doing anything they could to help the family. I know their dad Marty is mad into the GAA, as Colm would be, and that would be a little mind-swayer for him to see the players in their Mayo ties, looking pristine.
‘Colm was a treasured member of our town, our community, and the GAA club. I would have played with him, soldiered with him for years. Played in lots of big games.
‘This was one of our own. One of our diehards. This was a fella who was loved by our community. We had to give him the send-off he deserved.’
His death struck such a chord beyond Charlestown and brought out a wider sense of community solidarity that has been a defining feature of a lockdown summer.
As a player with Charlestown and Mayo, not to mention as an RTÉ analyst and commentator, Casey is a familiar chronicler of Gaelic games and the Mayo story.
He is a fixture of the Charlestown community and the family hardware shop is an established feature of the town.
He admits that retaining senior status against Claremorris meant a lot after such an emotional year.
‘We saved ourselves again. It’s becoming a bit of a habit, to be in a relegation battle nearly every year. Look, it was important to stay up. We’ll take positives from that.
‘We retired the No 11 jersey for the year. That’s the jersey Colm wore. Nobody wore it. Whoever was playing centre-forward normally wore 17. It was poignant that we did stay up.
‘We call Colm “the Bear”. We still reference his name at matches, going, “Jesus, if the Bear was here now yer man would get some rollicking!”’
The Mayo championship has captured the imagination beyond local borders too with games being streamed or going out live to a national audience. So has the return of the games given people a noticeable lift?
‘You’re talking to a person that lives and breathes GAA. If there were two flies playing around or landing on an O’Neill’s ball, I’d watch it just to see what would unfold. For me, the games RTÉ have shown have been an absolute Godsend for me.
‘I don’t know should I disclose this but for the first Charlestown versus Castlebar Mitchell’s match, I couldn’t get a ticket. So there’s a housing development called Parkview beside our GAA pitch. I had a young lad here, he drove up our forklift and lifted me and my mate up on a pallet to look over the wire. Watched it from the
‘The funeral was a very humbling experience’
housing estate. Thank God there was no pictures taken! It was a great idea — until the heavens opened. We got absolutely drowned. Proved to be a disastrous decision!
‘It was the evening before Colm’s month’s mind which we held on our GAA pitch as well. I had to give a dig out straight after to get the ground ready.’
He understands the Government’s need to balance public health measures with the concerns of business and the doubleedged sword that is allowing crowds back to sporting events. ‘You always want to do what’s right in the grand scheme of things. If you ask me do I think everybody should be allowed back in to watch football games again? Yes, if it’s safe. If you’re going to tell me that letting people back in and big crowds back at matches are going to cause my hardware store to be closed down for another seven weeks then no, don’t let them in. ‘You rely on experts in their given field to tell you what’s safe. But MacHale Park can hold 30,000 people. Our own pitch — the club reckon we could take 1,500 comfortably, socially distanced. That’s the part gets me.
‘Why are you allowed go to Church again but not allowed go to a football pitch?’
‘Things were changing every few weeks, what was allowed and what wasn’t. At the start, clubs weren’t allowed to train in their own field. Charlestown Sarsfields were training on the soccer pitch that I can see here from my house. On the walk, up the railway line, I used to bring the dog. It’s so funny – there was more crowds down at training sessions than you’d have got at league games previously — that’s how desperate people were to see some action.’
The one thing he is clear about is how the club, and Gaelic football, has been a salve for so many during the toughest of times.