GAA is at its best when times are at their worst
THIS IS A journey that has become all too familiar. Once more, we sat in our cars and drove to a community seized by shock and grief. One more time, we watched a heartbroken family follow the coffin of someone taken too soon.
I was in Ballyhale on Tuesday morning for the funeral of Paul Shefflin and, amid the utter sadness, tears and that bewildering sense of loss, you could also feel the power of the place.
You could sense the love, the respect and the solidarity that will, in time, provide a consolation to the Shefflin family, and to Paul’s neighbours and friends.
We cannot begin to imagine the pain they are all going through now, but we know that communities are so important in helping people rebound from such a loss.
Our condolences go to Paul’s wife, Aoife, and their four children, as well as his parents, Henry and Mai, his brothers and sisters and all who have been rocked by his sudden death last week.
It was impossible not to think of others we have lost suddenly, too. Conor Connelly, who lived not far from me in Ballycumber, will be gone two years at the end of this month. Conor was a fine footballer with Roscommon, a man well known and hugely respected throughout the midlands and beyond.
Death is a profound thing to deal with in any circumstances, but the death of a young person is especially shocking.
I thought, too, of Pat Smullen, the great jockey and an Offalyman who died after a long battle with cancer at the age of just 43.
Now I never met Anthony Foley, but I did meet his wife, Olive, after Anthony’s death and I remember we talked about the shock of it.
Paul’s funeral also churned up some memories of my own. It’s now 13 years since my wife Edel died. She was just 41, and an awful lot of the emotions from that time came flooding back.
But something else struck me very powerfully in Ballyhale on Tuesday – the power of the GAA.
I’m very conscious that talk of the GAA community has become a cliché, and that there are other organisations that provide support for people in difficulty.
But I can speak from deeply personal experience about how important the GAA is when a community that relies on it in good times, is struggling with bleak times, too.
The sight of the Ballyhale players in a guard of honour with their jerseys across their shoulders was incredibly powerful.
And through all the sadness, that power was a constant undercurrent.
It was there, too, in Henry’s wonderful tribute to his brother.
He talked about Paul the hurler, how he wasn’t necessarily the tallest, the fastest or the fittest.
But he said his brother was a fighter and a battler, and he had such a love for Ballyhale and his commitment to the place and the team was so strong that it made up for any technical shortcomings in his game.
The sight of four children walking behind their father’s coffin is not how life is supposed to be, and nor should it be about parents burying one of their kids. No one will tell Paul’s family how they can get over this, but what I can say is that in my experience, being part of the GAA community was a huge element in learning to live with the loss of Edel.
It played a part in our two sons living happy lives, too.
I can remember so clearly in the days after Edel’s funeral, how the local GAA community came in around us.
There were people from all over Ireland at the funeral itself, and we will be forever grateful for that support.
But when it was over, it was the local clubs that were a source of strength, as well as old team-mates of my own.
I really couldn’t underestimate how important that was to us. And eventually, we got back down to the pitch, too. I was coaching the lads, and I knew they needed to get back and I knew that I did as well. But it was the feeling of being part of that bigger picture that was vital, too.
The absence of services in rural Ireland is well known by now, and in many places the GAA club really is the heart and soul of the parish.
There isn’t much else, but there is this one place, this one idea, this shared passion that draws commitment and time and love from people. It’s a very powerful force.
But it also makes you marvel at the willingness of so many to volunteer their time. To coach even young kids now is about more than showing up on the evening of a training session.
There is Garda vetting to consider, as well as child safeguarding, which is absolutely critical.
But there is also the need for a coach to know what they are doing, because eventually the kids will start asking questions and, if you don’t know your stuff, they won’t be long in letting you know.
So the willingness to take over a team or help out in any way with a group of players has to be accompanied by a commitment in time and energy that an amazing amount of people are willing to give. But the same goes for the administrative side of the association. I know a good bit more about this than I used to, but even at club level the time and devotion needed to fulfil roles is substantial.
And people are still only too happy to do it and that, I think, is a tribute to the GAA but also to the shared experiences so many of us have.
We give back because it has given so much to us.
Schools are central to providing safe spaces for children to develop and blossom, but sporting organisations are not far behind, I think.
I know full well the GAA and sport generally is not for everybody, and there are many ways for the young to become the best they can be.
But I do know this much: the GAA is helping many to do just that.
And in a time when maybe the resilience of children is questioned or under a bit of pressure, sport is a good way to build that.
It teaches us much more than that, though, and the values that we want to see in our youth are epitomised by the GAA at its best.
There is some solace in that for a community struggling with sadness today. The GAA doesn’t have all the answers. Sport cannot fix broken hearts.
Yet the value of a close, loyal and honourable community is something my sons and I know all about.
And I can certainly attest to its importance in helping us put some shape back in our lives.
We think of Paul Shefflin today. The people of Ballyhale will never, ever forget him.
‘GAA PLAYED A HUGE PART IN LEARNING TO LIVE WITH EDEL’S LOSS’