Seeing as the last few nostalgia blogs about growing up in Letterkenny during the 1990s / early 2000s went down so well – one on teenage disco days at the Grill and another on weekend cinema trips – I thought I’d stay local again this week. I won’t lie though, I was struggling for an idea to write about until I recently took an early morning walk past what used to be The Music Centre.

Those of a certain age will recall there used to be two of these shops in town. One on the second floor of the Courtyard and the other on the Main Street, nestled just on the corner of the Market Square. While I do marginally recall the Letterkenny Tapes store down at, what’s still sometimes called the ‘Old Quinnsworth’, it was the old building by the Square that sparked my inspiration. 

One morning last week, just before the mayhem of school-run traffic congestion took over the town, I was dandering down past the redbricks of Mount Southwell Place. I’d gotten a bit tired of the same songs on repeat funneling through my earphones and thought it might be time to hit a random playlist and see what comes up. 

In essence, the song could choose me rather than vice-versa. 

Anything, and I mean anything, could’ve come on but, low and behold, I was more than content with what did. It was an old 1979 rock (and some might say, ‘oddly romantic’) song by Kiss. You might remember them as the old metal guitar band who dressed up in black and white face-paint, with wild untamed jet black hair and often performed with their tongues poking out.  

Main Street, Letterkenny.

While it’s a look that’s more suited to dodgy Halloween attire these days, it doesn’t take away from the great toe-tapping and air-guitar inducing riffs that they played. So there I was, humming along to “I was made for loooving you baaaybay. You were made for loving meee! And I can’t get enough of yooou, baby! Can you get enough of meee?” 

Guilty pleasure, yes, but sure why not!

That’s when I spotted the old sign on the side of the wall where the music shop once stood. The fact that it was an advert letting customers know that they had PlayStation 2 and MP3 players in stock is a time capsule in itself to how quickly technology (and time) has moved on since they ceased trading; presumably well over a decade by now, but open to correction on that one. 

Inevitably, this led to flashbacks of school lunchtimes or Saturday afternoons when we’d occasionally loiter about the steps of the Square on days when the weather was half-decent. And maybe because we’d been told to not hang about the Four Lights or Abrakebra unless all of us were eating. 

Every now and again, the question might occasionally arise: “Will we go to the Music Center and have a look at the posters?”

More often than not, you might take a wander in and flick through the big slider they had of wall posters. Obviously, being a music shop, you’d have bands, singers and pop-groups that catered for all tastes. It could range from one of Kurt Cobain wrecking the stage after a set to one of the Spice Girls posing for ‘Girl Power.’ Popular movies and album covers were also a prime feature.   

On the other hand, you might unearth one of some random male models showing off their six-packs while splashing around in the ocean; pictures that looked like an advert for an after-shave product. Then, maybe, a close-up one of a rather alluring Jennifer Aniston – aka “yer doll Rachel from Friends” – giving you a reassuring, subtle and somewhat flirty hint of a smile. 

“That’d look well on my wall, but sure what would me Aul Pair say, hiy?” That was the dilemma. 

Invariably, the question over equal rights between male and female sometimes cropped up. Usually from the perspective of moany boys, by the way. 

“See my wee sister, hiy? She has loads of pictures up on her wall of boy-bands that she gets from her Smash Hits magazine. My Ma says nothing about it, but then if I stick up one of some foxy looking chick standing underneath a waterfall with her head tilted back and her eyes closed, I have to hear about it! I mean jeeeez, like!” 

The mysteries of life. 

Obviously the shop sold much more enchanting products than just posters. Traditional Irish instruments like bodhráns, tin-whistles and accordions were found up on the higher shelves behind the counter. Us being teenage boys though meant that getting a nosey at Cindy Crawford’s or Pamela Anderson’s legs was just a bit more important at the time. 

Having said that, it wasn’t all poster-gazing and ogling. Occasionally, we did actually buy something. 

This was back in the days when you’d count down the days to when your favourite artists were releasing their latest singles. With no internet access to hand, knowing when a song was going to hit the shelves usually relied on what you heard from the chart shows on the radio or if the Top of the Pops presenter mentioned it in the Thursday evening broadcast. 

Being something of an indie rock fan in those days, I still vividly recall putting a bit of pocket-money aside so that I could get my hands on CDs (remember them?) that the likes of Oasis had released. When I’m asked the question about the first record I ever bought, I’m still pretty sure it was a song called ‘Perseverance’ by an alt-rock group called Terrorvision. Don’t ask why.

Then again, as Den TV was mandatory viewing for all children who were growing up in Ireland, it could just have easily been one of those dodgy tracks that Dustin the Turkey released. 

In research for this article though, friends of mine have since told me that they did the same with their limited funds for groups like Eternal, All Saints, 5ive and Robbie Williams amongst others. Artists that are probably now considered ‘ancient’ by kids today. The cheek! 

As the nineties wore on, and into the new millennium, there was something of a change in trends. Seemingly out of nowhere, purchasing vinyl records – the ones that you used to see under the gramophone at your gran’s house – became all the rage. Dance music was thriving thanks to Fatboy Slim, Binary Finary and Judge Jules etc so a new era was getting underway.

Older students in school, the senior lads who had scruffy facial hair and who always seemed way taller than they actually were, played guitars and drums. The slightly younger generation were investing in decks and the notion of bringing turn-tables to a “free gaf” when someone’s parents were away became the new popular music fashion. 

Mind you, parties like those, probably deserve an article of their own one day. 

View from the Square

Music, as we know, is invested in very differently nowadays. A monthly subscription to Spotify grants you instant access to any song you want any time. There’s nothing wrong with that in my book. The more headphones you see on walkers and joggers means that the popularity of music has grown rather than decreased. 

Still though, one wee final trip to the record store would be nice all the same. 



During the lunchtime break at secondary school, the question would usually crop up. “Here lads! So what are we at on Friday night?”

In the absence of a disco or someone’s parents being away for the weekend, the cinema was a common suggestion. “Anything good on?” someone would ask. “Sure what does that matter?”

Growing up as a teenager in Letterkenny, around about the turn of the Millennium, meant that the cinema on the Port Road was a frequent hangout spot for local lads and girls. Sometimes they’d even cross paths together … of course this was usually in the back row of seats.

Long before the days of Netflix and all the other streaming services we use today, the cinema was a fairly sociable hub for youngsters. Especially when one of the more long awaited movies was staging its opening night. 

One that always springs to mind for me was October 1999 when The Blair Witch Project came to our screens. I was a few weeks short of turning 15 at the time, but the fact that the joys of adolescence had done its bit, my voice was well-broken so getting in wasn’t going to be a problem. 

Mind you, gaining entry would be more difficult ther occasions but let’s come back to that later. 

Now maybe it’s because the Blair Witch opened on the same night that we all got our Halloween holidays from school, but it seemed that there were loads of us there that night. 

What’s more is that the movie’s obscure ending – which I won’t spoil for anyone – had many of us in hot debate outside on the front steps afterwards. You have to remember that this particular movie had tricked much of the world into creating the illusion that the shaky handheld camcorder footage was real.

“Naw! I’m telling ya! A lad down the road from me has the Internet in his house, right? And he was saying he looked up a – whatyamacallit – a website and it says it’s definitely real, so it is! They’re all dead so they are!” That was just one of the cases put forward. A case built on solid and undisputed evidence, as you can see.

On the flip side, you were always going to have that one guy who would go over the top, especially in front of thf ladies, in a zealous attempt to prove that he was in no way frightened by the movie. “Ohhhh my God, that was just soooo stupid! I mean, it’s meant to be scary but I just laughed at it the whole time.”

What I recall most about this particular trip to the flicks wasn’t the movie itself. In actual fact, it wasn’t even the arguments over whether it was real or not either. What stands out for me is that, without knowing it, we were truly in the infant ages of easy-access technology. 

Googling something on our phones wasn’t a thing. Come to think of it, most of us didn’t even have mobiles by this stage! And yet maybe the Blair Witch showed us there was still a bit of time left to believe in mythology and imagination even if it was of the darker and more occult variety.

I can tell you now that walking past the dark Gortlee forest and graveyard, on my home that night, gave me a touch of the heebie-jeebies.

Old cinema; Letterkenny.

This was the year of ‘99. A time when people, even in this town, were dreading the Y2K bug. The world feared that when midnight struck on New Year’s Eve, that all the computer systems on the planet would collapse and that planes would “start falling from the sky!”

Now there was a case of much ado about nothing but maybe it’s another example of how there was a touch of gullibility in the air that particular winter. 

As alluded to earlier, getting to see any film I wanted at the cinema was not always an easy task. At the age of (almost) 15, one tends to think of themselves as a grown up. A big man! 

Sure, you might be at an age where you can hold hands across the tables in the Four Lanterns with a girl in public for the first time. You might even be something of a legend to some because your fake ID got you served in the offie one night. 

Getting refused admission to see a film on the grounds of being too young, however. That brought you right back to earth. It was a subtle reminder, about as subtle as a brick to the face mind you, that you’re still only a pup. 

The one movie in the autumn of 1999 that proved difficult to gain entry to was American Pie: a high school comedy with plenty of risky and raunchy humour. As you might expect, you had to be over 18 to see it and the cinema staff were on high alert to avoid letting any young ones in. 

On the night myself and my pal queued up for it, we noticed a few schoolmates getting turned away at the kiosk. My mate Ultan was part-Scottish – well he still is , I suppose – and he uttered “Dinnae worry Johnny! Ah huv a wee idea mate! Follow me!” 

His cunning plan was bloody ridiculous, but I have to give credit to the man. It worked! Ultan ordered us two tickets for some chick-flick film. Some borefest about a young girl trying to make it big in the city. Yawn! It even brought a bemused look on the guy selling the tickets. 

“What are you at, ya muppet?” I whispered with a snarl. Ultan shushed me and carried on as normal. Picking up a couple of popcorn combos before making our way down the corridor to where the screens were, I was still quietly raging.

As we embarked down the hallway, all I could think was what a waste of £6 this was. ‘We’d have been better off buying six cans of Dutch Gold,’ I thought to myself.

Then, with one swift point of his index finger, Ultan pointed to the doorway where American Pie was being shown. Better yet, there was nobody guarding the door.

“After you,” was his simple command. “Well played,” was all I could say. 

It didn’t go unnoticed either. A girl, probably in her twenties at the time, was walking behind us. She chuckled and gave an approving “I see what ye did there lads. Nicely done!” 

Of course, long before that and when I was much younger, Saturday matineé trips to the cinema were a part of growing up in the town. Sometimes they were tied in with birthday parties and on other times, they were just for the spectacle of what was being shown. 

Between the ages of eight and eleven, it was here where many of us saw such (what are now considered) nineties cult-classics like Wayne’s World, Jurassic Park, Batman Forever, Dumb and Dumber and Toy Story. 

They don’t look like much to younger audiences now but seeing these magnificently created CGI-dinosaurs on a full-size silver screen back in those days was truly mesmerising. A piece of cinematic art within itself. Likewise, Toy Story was iconic because it became the first ever full-length computer generated movie. History.

I should point out here that the aforementioned Dumb and Dumber also involved something of a sneak in on my part. It must’ve taken me a solid four attempts to get past old Mrs Collins in the ticket booth for that one.

Thankfully though, some lad in my class tipped us off that “she doesn’t work on Thursday evenings, so go see it then!” 

As it is now.

At that age though, the excitement would usually build from the day before. Our bus to school used to make its way along the Port Road and as it slowed down in the traffic, we used to gaze out on Friday mornings to see a man on a ladder slotting in the tiles of letters on the boards to advertise that weekend’s showings. 

On the day itself, we used to buy bag loads of penny sweets from the shop a few doors down. Drastically undercutting the income of the popcorn kiosk within the cinema, right enough, but sure these things happen. 

The one thing you had to be prepared for back then was, because it was still the afternoon when the film was over, the daylight always seemed that bit more blinding after being cooked up inside for the last two hours.

Of course, that old building is gone now. It’s been taken over by offices and a youth centre and, we can’t complain, because the town has a new and much more modern cinema house over by Leckview. One with comfy seats and beverage holders. 

Even though some lads used to give out that the new state-of-the-art armrests were a preventive barrier to some ‘high-quality shifting.’ Well sure, you can’t have everything, now can ya?

Still though, the old cinema house on the Port Road may be long gone now, but it certainly had its charm back in the day.


“Will You Shift My Mate?”


Originally published in August 2022

Two editions ago, I took a wander down memory lane and discussed with you what it was like growing up in the Gortlee area of the town back in the days of the heady 1990s.

It rekindled memories of neighbourhood games, playing on rope-swings and underground dens and being out until your Mum called you in for your dinner from the back porch.

This time though, we’re moving onward with a look at a Letterkenny upbringing during the more teen angst-filled years.

Almost everybody goes through something of a teenage-rebel phase in their lives and I was no exception to the rule.

Compared to when I was maybe ten or eleven years old, I found myself answering back a lot more to my parents. Making demands to stay out later than I needed to and probably always giving them something to be rightfully annoyed about.

That’s not to say I was a ‘bad kid’ as such. I grew out of rebelling almost as quickly as I had gotten into it and maybe the reason why I occasionally found myself glugging cheap cider down an alleyway on a Friday night was because, in hindsight, perhaps I was hiding myself from something. Like any other adolescent, I had insecurities and maybe acting up was my mask. 

During my first three years in secondary school, I often found myself zoning out during lessons. It wasn’t necessarily always that I was causing disruption or winding the teachers up. It was more a case that I was disinterested in the way most classroom tasks followed the same routine of ‘read-the textbook-and-answer-the-questions’ over and over again.

It became mundane.

Maybe things like these nights out provided some sort of much-needed entertainment.

Girls become a bigger part of your life at this stage and while I – without sounding like a brag – did okay in the old ‘shifting department,’ it always seemed to be the case that the girl I fancied was busy fancying someone else; usually a friend or a classmate of mine.

These things wouldn’t bother me now, but you gotta remember, I was just a kid back then and absolutely everything was a big deal.

Of course, it wasn’t all drama and thankfully there was plenty of time for fun too. It also goes without saying that no kid from Letterkenny grows up without some sort of story to tell from the dancefloors of the Golden Grill nightclub. It was the late 1990s / early 2000s. Dance tracks, of which included genrés like House, Garage and Trance (and teeny-bop), filled up the charts.

Planning a night out at the end of term teenage disco took more effort than a CIA covert operation: “What time should we meet up? Who is sorting the pre-disco booze? Do we know anyone with a fake ID who can get served? Should we get some curry chips to take the smell of our breath? Whose house did we tell the Aul Pair we were staying in?”

And of course, the irrepressible matchmaking line: “Here! Will you shift my mate?” 

At this point, you’re probably all thinking that this was all very boyish and laddish behaviour. Rest assured though, and in the name of balance, plenty of girls have come forward on an online post I put up about the teenage disco days and through some giddy nostalgia, they too recalled the divilment they got up to. 

One female friend of mine recalled how she would get her mum to drop her off at a friend’s house under the pretense that they were having a slumber party. 

She’d be on the way to the house wearing a hoodie and pajama bottoms carrying sweets and a DVD, but once she’d been dropped off, she’d discard her attire and unveil that she had the miniskirt and top on underneath the whole time. She also let slip that competitions over who got the most ‘shifts’ was not purely a boys’ thing.

Other ladies were good enough to share with me the makeup routine beforehand. As one recounted: “The planning of the outfit and getting ready with your mates, the pang of Davidoff Cool Water or Exclamation off the girls with the Lynx Africa from the boys and the digital camera hanging off your wrist for the photos and I still remember my first slow set.”

At which point, her friend interjected with “the makeup, the panstick and basically, the more orange and tanned you looked, the better! In fact, looking back, I’m pretty sure I used to be using silver lipstick,” she laughed with just a touch of a cringe.  

Once inside the venue, the traditional laps of the dance-floor ‘just to see who’s about’ had to be done and while most of the tunes were poppy and dancey, this was an era when the three song slowsets were still a thing. Essentially the banging tracks by the Vengaboys and tunes like Sandstorm by Darude were momentarily replaced by the likes of Mariah Carey, Boys II Men, and an up-and-coming group called Westlife.

If you didn’t get your shift by that stage of the night, you may as well forget about it. Mind you, getting the shift didn’t make you untouchable because it wasn’t uncommon for some members of the staff stewarding at the event to give you an embarrassing tap on the shoulder for you to quit what you were at, otherwise a phone call to home would be made.

On the flip side, if this was by no means your first shift with the same person, maybe something was in the air and this was a time to pop the question: “how’s about you and me start going steady?” And they say romance is dead! 

Those were just some of the guarantees on nights like these and the only other one was probably the certainty of a good old-fashioned scrap in the car park afterwards.

Usually between lads from different schools or different townlands; doing their bit to represent their parish with just a sprinkling of peer-pressure to join the fight thrown in, I suppose.

You’d think after all that craic, it’d be plain sailing and you’d just go home. Usually it did, but not often without the interrogation from your folks.

“Who was out with you? Who is he? What do his parents do? It’d be more in your line to do a bit of study than going at that galavanting! Such and-such a one was telling me there was fighting at it? What a bunch of galloots ye really are!”

Those days though, good as they were are – just like the venue itself – alas, no more. Mind you! They certainly wasn’t the end of our disco days. Far from it. Now it was time to move on the to next step … Yup, you’ve guessed it!

“Does anyone know where we could get some fake IDs to get into the over-18s, lads?”




Originally penned by Jonathan Foley in June 2021

Letterkenny is ever-growing with newer faces, more diverse ethnicities and more modern ways of doing things. In a previous article, I wrote about how the best place to see this is by taking a walk through the Town Park. Sometimes though, places in this great town also changed forever but maybe not always for the better.

This town, the place I happily call my home even though I’ve not always lived in it, has produced an abundance of marvelous writers throughout the years. One of those who has stood the test of time is Patrick McArt – a colleague with us here at theLeader and an uncle to a lifelong friend of mine – and his piece in last month’s edition of this paper struck a chord with me. 

Mister McArt penned a brief but nonetheless poignant column about how he can’t quite shake feeling nostalgic about the way Letterkenny used to be. He wrote about a time when certain shops and stores lined the Main Street, cafés where locals sat outside and, generally speaking, a time when everyone seemed to know everyone. In short, he misses that era. Understandably. 

It got me thinking though about how much this town has transitioned since I was born. With that, a Spotify-headphoned walk around the streets and backroads of the town was required. Starting off closer-to-home and for the purpose of this article’s word count limit, I’ll stay focused on my more local surroundings in and around Gortlee and Ballyraine for this one. 

Seeing where myself and the neighbour kids used to play football on the green outside Knocknamona Park was a start. Back in those days, being the youngest, I nearly always landed with the responsibility of being the goalie – whether I wanted to or not was immaterial – and there was no final whistle. The game only ended when the kid who owned the ball was called in by his parents or when the street-lights went on. 

We used to have this big wooded-tree area along the roadside that we called ‘the Territory.’ During our games of ‘Block’, it was an ideal hiding place before attempting a dash across the road to free all the prisoners. 

Neighborhood kids

It was also once home to a treehouse and an underground den. It was where we gathered tires for the Halloween bonfires every year and it was also where we had a genuine beast of a rope-swing. A couple of the older lads used to bring along a battery-operated cassette player and rock out songs by the likes of Nirvana, Guns and Roses and a bunch of other angry-but-cool-sounding vocalists.  

Nowadays though, you would never know any of it was ever there. Some time back, the green where we played three-and-in until all hours was cut down in size to make way for a bigger pavement. As for the Territory, that land was bought up and it’s now the site of a huge house with a long, stretching garden while other places we used now belong to the Beinn Aoibhinn or Whitethorn Park estates.

It’s not that we really minded when this Gortlee facelift took place. After all, we were getting older and were starting to find new ways to keep ourselves entertained. The new houses that came along meant that new neighbours, with kids of their own, had a place to settle, to play and make memories of their own. 

So, in that case, Letterkenny moved on for the better but it doesn’t mean you can’t reminisce about the way it was. The places where you scored that wonder volley to win the match just before the call from mum on the back porch signaled the end of the game. When you knew where all the other kids were as soon as you saw all the bicycles were lying down and as I ventured into my adolescence, it was also the place I got my first ‘shift’ with a girl who lived in the back-row of houses. 

Sure didn’t I just tell you we were getting older, didn’t I? 

Sadly though, some places in the town didn’t age as well. Growing up in the 1990s, visits to the PinTavern down by Ballyraine was just a mecca of fun. The synthetic noises and flashing lights of the arcade games, clinks from the air-hockey table and of the rolling sounds of bowling balls crashing into pins. It’s no wonder every kid wanted to have their birthday party there. 

As I moved forward into my teens, ‘The Pin’ was still there. Only this time, myself and a group of secondary school friends would use the outside facilities where you could play 5-a-side football on the astroturf pitches. Games were always good fun, but they were quite competitive and on some occasions, a flare-up over a bad tackle would arise. Handbag arguments that quickly blew over, but maybe it was a sign we were just getting a bit more serious with age. 

Caged off

Last week, after a period of about twenty years had passed, I snuck around the back of the Pin’s building and it was genuinely sad to see how so much of the place had become dilapidated, crumbled and overgrown. Rusted barriers caged up the playing fields and the building where we used to play bowling and spend all our pocket money on the arcades resemembled a bomb site. 

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with business owners packing up and moving on; it’s part and parcel of life. I suppose there is solace to be taken that maybe this mantle was just taken up for younger kids to make their memories just over the road at Arena 7 or maybe at the newly-developed, state-of-the-art football pitch, just along Orchard Grove at Ballyraine FC. 

Discarded goalposts

I get it when people say they miss things about the way things used to be in this town. Heck, I feel that way about places in my own neighbourhood! On the other hand, nostalgia can only get us so far and things just change naturally, sometimes for good and sometimes not. After all, if you ever listen closely to the words of ‘In My Life’ by The Beatles, that’s exactly what they did. 

This article got me thinking though … Maybe next time, I’ll have to explore my memories of The Grill! Now there’s a venue of Letterkenny history that makes you think about times when things went good and sometimes not so good!

INT’L FOOTBALL Part 4: Franco, the Soviets and the Rise of the ‘El Classico.’

Originally penned by Jonathan Foley, March 2021. 

One country who had been a notable absentee from the 1938 World Cup were Spain.

As the country was preoccupied by the Civil War – fought between Republicans and Royalists – the nation was crumbling, but in the aftermath of the Second World War, their Fascist dictator, Francisco Franco, also realised the manipulative power of football.

What had made his tyrannical victory on the domestic front successful was the fact that he was aided by Benito Mussolini’s troops and the German Luftwaffe.

This was decisive intervention against the rebel cause in 1939, but with Spain opting for neutrality during the war and with the fall of both Hitler and Mussolini, Franco had become somewhat isolated.

“Spain has no foolish dreams!”

In the post-war era, Spain had become secluded territory and the animosity of the Catalan people – predominantly based in Barcelona – was preparing itself to resurface. 

Like his (now-deceased) fellow Fascist leaders, Franco had no particular interest in football. Knowing how much it could gather support for his regime however, he adapted the Real Madrid club as a symbol for his autonomous and oppressive rule.

The people of Barcelona still lived under mass persecution. They were banned from using their own language, from waving Catalan flags and with the sights of bullet-holes still adorning the walls of their churches and cathedrals, reminders of Facist massacres were still all too visible for them.

In 1936, Barca’s club president – Josep Sunyol – had been dragged from his car and murdered by Franco’s troops and, perhaps naturally, the citizens of Catalonia gravitated to the Camp Nou stadium in support of their team.

Thus, their ‘Mes Que En Club’ (‘More Than A Club’) mentality was given its rise.

Despite the fierce opposition to his power, Franco still believed that football could be utilised as a means of useful diversion and distraction.

He began to arrange club fixtures that he could broadcast through the advent of television and anytime a degree of social unrest was afoot, a match would come on the screens to tempt peoples’ focus away.

Even though Franco kept a firm hold on the goings-on at Real Madrid, it’s fair to suggest that this didn’t bring any form of immediate success to the club. 

Between 1939 and 1954, they didn’t win a single league championship and perhaps more disparagingly, they had to watch Barcelona lift five titles during that time.

It was time to redress the balance and the opportunity came along when both Real Madrid and Barcelona joined in a race to sign Argentinian star, Alfredo DiStefano. 

“The Blonde Arrow”, as he was known, had a superb goal-scoring record with his club in Colombia at the time; scoring 267 in 292 games. 

Initially, it was Barca who approached him and it looked as though a deal was about to be brokered. The move was, some might say, commandeered by Real Madrid who swooped in and stole his signature away at the eleventh hour. 

It was to be revealed years later that Franco’s troops had abducted the new Barcelona president, Marti Carreto, from a hotel and threatened his textile industry – where he had amassed his fortune – with very heavy tax inspections.

If he left DiStefano to move to Madrid, then he was in the clear.

It’s also believed that Real Madrid, possibly in a bid to quell any further unrest, offered Barcelona an olive branch. They stated that DiStefano could play alternate seasons for each side, but as an act of defiance against the regime, Barcelona refused the offer; irregardless of how talented the player actually was. 

Alfredo DiStefano joined Real Madrid and in his first game against Barcelona at the Santiago Bernabeu stadium, he scored four goals against the club he came so close to signing for.

To his credit, DiStefano spoke about the bureaucracy that went on behind his signing in a 2003 interview with the BBC. Speaking then as Honorary President of Real Madrid and having only recently signed David Beckham, he told:

“I never played for Franco. I never played for a political system. I only played for the people. I thought I was joining Barcelona and then I wasn’t.”

Real Madrid’s recruitment of his profound talents was to transform the club. Between 1956 and 1960, they won no less than five European Cups in a row. Their success, on the field, had promoted a glamorous and endearing image of Spain to the world. Something which Franco would have been most pleased with. 

“Masonry and Communism … the two evils which must be dispelled from this land.”

Despite being accepted into NATO (the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation), Spain was still very much a secluded nation in western Europe. It was holding firm to the ideologies of fascism, long after the Allies had ended the reigns of Mussolini and Hitler. 

Franco though, was very aware of how football could shape perspective.

He set about making Real Madrid an international brand. By bringing in players such as Ferenc Puskas, it gave the club a reputation for giving a new lease of life to players who had previously suffered under Communist rule in the east.  

This courted him a degree of favour with the United States and for as much as Franco disliked Catalonians, he despised the communist leanings of the Soviet Union even more. This would come to a head – not once but twice – on the international stage during the 1960s.

The Soviets had sympathised with and supported the Catalan rebellion during the Civil War years and when the two nations met at the 1960 European Championships – perhaps anxious about the possibility of a defeat to an enemy nation – Franco withdrew Spain from the match. 

Four years later, Spain and the Soviets would cross paths again. This time in the Euro ‘64 Final. With Spain being the host nation, Franco was advised that withdrawing the team again would cause national embarrassment; particularly as this was the Final.

Spain won the game 2-1 and, as it later emerged, the players had been told in no uncertain circumstances that it wasn’t just a team they were playing against. They were told that they were fighting as soldiers against the evils of communism.

“Tot el camp. És un clam.’ 

In 1975, following 36 years of power, Franco died. His body is buried in the outskirts of Madrid – the Cementerio Municipal El Pardo (‘The Valley of the Fallen’). 

A man-made reserve built by the very people he oppressed and killed. It’s believed that his final words were “I am accountable now only to God and to History.” 

Those who congregated at the Camp Nou just four weeks later had other ideas. 

On 28th December, Barcelona took on Real Madrid in a stadium that was still reverberating amid the celebrations of Franco’s death.

Barcelona, equipped with Dutch superstar Johan Cryuff, enjoyed the raptors of a 2-1 win over their great rivals and it is estimated that, in defiance of Spanish law, somewhere in the region of 700 Catalan flags were smuggled into the ground and waved proudly that night.

An emotion which still resonates heavily with the supporters to this day. Although, it must be said, that it’s certainly not the case that Real Madrid fans should ever be tagged or generalised as fascist sympathisers.

For even Barcelona club historian, Joan Barau wrote, when discussing Real’s record 11-1 win over Barca in 1943:

“The memory of the Civil War was still fresh in everyone’s memory. It was not their fault that they fell under a military dictatorship, so it’s never a result that they tend to boast about.”

After all, the Real Madrid club had been thriving for almost four decades before Franco suddenly took an convenient interest in them.

The era of fascism controlling football may have been over, but that’s not to say that politics in general had ever stopped in its bid to manipulate the game. 

For, as we will see in our next article, the role of communism and its difficulties with democracy would forge an important reality for a highly-skilled and evolutionary Hungarian side during the Cold War.

A side, who many still believe to this day, helped change the face of how club football was to be played in Britain forever more.


If you were to go around and ask your friends and family ‘What’s your Top 10 Places in the World You’d Love to See’, chances are the Eternal City of Rome would be in there somewhere. A culinary delight with an abundance of famous landmarks that are all fairly close to one another. A nice climate and be flown into on a budget airline. Sure why not?

By Jonathan Foley

Getting there is pretty-much a hassle-free experience. Under three hours on a flight from Dublin and with good public transportation on offer, via the trains that now run on time, your journey towards the more central parts of the Italian capital can be done in well under an hour. Especially if the Roma Termini station is your destination. 

Taxis have set rates to and from both major airports, Fiumicino and Ciampino, so you know you can’t get ripped off. Never a bad thing. While Rome is a very walkable city, the option to purchase a Metro ticket (underground railway) is highly recommended. There’s only two lines so confusion about getting around is kept to a minimum. 

Tagatell alla bologna.

Food in Rome is an absolute no-brainer. So many restaurants operate a walk-in service and offer simple, but delicious meals where their names just roll off the tongue: tageitalle del bolognese, pasta carbonara with a nice glass of rocha to compliment your meal before finishing off with a nice espresso or maybe a gelato. A foodie’s heaven. 

It’s worth bearing in mind that some of the restaurants that are located within a close proximity to some of the most crowded sites do have a tendency to overcharge for fairly sub-standard food. Essentially, tourist traps where the chefs don’t have time to cook your dinner with the same artistry and love as most other places. 

Perhaps the best thing about the majority of the city’s most famous landmarks is that they are free-of-charge. And the ones you can’t access for free, a lot of them are still visible from other parts of the city.

Trevi Fountain.

On my first day there, a climb up the beautiful white marble steps of the Altra delle Patria (Altar to the Fatherland) provided excellent views of the old Ancient ruins and just enough of the Colosseum to take a good photograph of. The quality of the city’s architecture and how it combines the old with the new makes this city so unique.

Stadio Olimpico.

In keeping touch with my Roman Catholic origins – and to keep my Mammy happy – I later took a wander through St Peter’s Square where you can also catch a glimpse of the Basilica and the exterior of the Sistine Chapel. I chose not to go inside the Sistina, purely on the grounds that the queue to get in was eye-wateringly long. 

As Easter weekend was fast approaching, there was a lot of hustle and bustle about San Petro’s. Chairs, speakers and big-screens were being thrown up with as much haste as possible, so as to have everything ready for the Pope’s Easter Blessing that was being planned for the Sunday. 

Unsurprisingly, my love of history and sports combined on Saturday with a morning tour of the Colosseum (as well as the Roman Forum and Palatine Hill) where I got to walk along the arena floor of the world’s longest remaining sports amphitheater. And yes, I’ll admit, I purposely rewatched ‘Gladiator’ the week before to get in the mood. 

Colosseum at dusk.

Our tour guide was a very knowledgeable guy and had a wonderful way of explaining to us what a typical day at the Games would’ve been like during the heyday of the Roman Empire. It’s also worth pointing out that many popular television shows and movies which feature the Colosseum are very much exaggerated. 

For instance, it was very rare for Roman Gladiators to carry out intense battles with each other. Why would they? Many of them were friends, or perhaps former comrades with the Roman Army who had turned their hands to entertaining crowds at the end of their careers. Once a fighter drew even a drop of blood, the fight was often stopped. 

Gortlee boy on tour.

Having said that, it is true that the Colosseum was used as a venue for public executions against criminals while slaves and prisoners were often offered an opportunity to earn their freedom … if they could overcome the small challenge of wrestling and beating a wild, hungry lion first! 

My last major port-of-call on this five day trip was to the Olympic Stadium where I’d secured a ticket for the Serie A match between Lazio and Torino. The game itself was no classic, and in truth, because of their right-wing tendencies, I’ve no real love for Lazio supporters. Nonetheless, it was great to see a famous stadium such as this one.

Druid’s Den Bar.

Having spent my last evening sinking a few beers in the Druid’s Den bar, an Irish pub owned by a Letterkenny lady who knew my mum and dad well, it was time for home early on Monday morning. 

Hitting the snooze button too many times meant I came scarily close to missing my flight home, but alas, despite my final hour or two in Rome being rather stressful, I caught it just in time and I suppose all’s well that ends well. Whether food, sports, history, religion or general wandering is your thing, Rome is a city that’s highly recommended to you.




On a mild Letterkenny and somewhat drizzly evening in early April 2022, just as the gentle smatterings of rain were finishing up, a busload of youngsters returned home to a wondrous welcome after a football match.

A Garda Escort ushered these lads from the Port Road to the grounds of Saint Eunan’s College. A team full of beaming smiles and waves stepped off the coach with a bright shining cup in hand.

Under the night sky, with only the floodlights of the school building shining down on them, cameras flashed and the cheering applause rose up in appreciation of a great sporting success. 

This was an impromptu celebration of families, friends, school staff (both former and current), past pupils of the alumni and ex-footballers who had once represented the school so well on the field in times gone by. 

When captain, Leon Doherty, stood proudly on the front steps and raised the trophy aloft to a great ovation, this was a celebration, not just for football, but for a community.  

Team manager, Michael Kelly, bestowed the title of ‘Heroes’ on his group of talented, highly-motivated players and correctly so. 

This is the story behind the now seven-time winners of the FAIS Dr. Tony O’Neill Cup – the country’s most prestigious schools’ tournament – as told by the players, manager and backroom team of Saint Eunan’s College. 

By Jonathan Foley

Homecoming at the College.


Before the afternoon of Wednesday 6th April 2022,  there was an all too real possibility that the current seniors of the College would leave the school in June on something of an anti-climax. 

For the last two years or so, secondary school students have been forced to live a life of rules, regulations and uncertainty for what must’ve felt like an eternity. 

It ran a seriously high risk that their memories of school would’ve been overloaded with dreary talk of being unable to work in groups at school, mandatory mask-wearing, distance-learning, accredited grades, no meeting up with friends, no discos, no going on ‘the shift’ and, for a long time, they weren’t even allowed to play football. 

There’s an old proverb that states that the ‘night is darkest just before the dawn.’ 

Despite the abundance of barricades and enforced ordinance that these youngsters had to endure, it could be argued that they banished a lot of that built-up angst when Tiernan Brown’s 90th-minute penalty in Athlone struck the net. 

With one trusted swing of his clinical left boot – where the ball almost took the netting off the goalposts, such was its velocity – Brown had secured a 3-2 for the College over Waterford side De La Salle in the dying moments of the FAIS Senior Cup Final. 

Much more than that, as was evidenced by the inevitable pitch invasion around two minutes later, he along with his gallant comrades, had gifted the Eunan’s boys with a new memory of their school days. 

One which they could cherish, treasure and behold forevermore. 

Having had time to digest that success, players Leon Doherty, Ryan Creevy, Jay Maguire, David Boakye and Tiernan Brown took time out from revision to share their thoughts and feelings about how it’s been since being crowned All-Ireland senior champions. 

Leon Doherty:

“The first few days afterwards, for us anyway, I don’t think it had really set in. We were still in pure elation. It’s such a great feeling to be All-Ireland winners and the support we got from the teachers and our fellow students in the school was nothing short of amazing,” told captain Leon Doherty. 

“My own memories from the game were probably when the heads could’ve gone down when we went 2-1 behind in the second half, but the way we dug in and how it ended with Tiernan’s last-minute penalty will be the main images that stick with me from the day. That and lifting the trophy at the end, of course,” he added. 

Tiernan Brown:

“To be honest, I was bricking it when I stepped up to take it,” Tiernan admitted. “I was just focused on making sure I hit the target, but we had watched the semi-final and knew that their keeper had a tendency to dive a bit early, so I just planned on firing it down the middle and thankfully it worked out.

“If you look at the video of the goal, you’ll probably see that I didn’t react immediately. It seemed to take that extra few seconds to sink in, but as I say, I was very nervous taking that penalty, and when it went in, I think the main emotion I had was just pure relief. It’s a memory that will stick with me forever though,” he recalled. 

David Boakye: 

“Surreal is the best way I could put it,” recalled David. “The support we got from so many people has been amazing. It’s come from everyone in the school, our own parents, families and friends and it’ll definitely be the best memory I take from my time here at the school”.

Ryan Creevy; 

“I’ll admit I’m still a bit lost for words about it all,” Ryan Creevy acknowledged. “Leading up to the game, you’re just hoping to do well, but you’re never sure if you’re going to win it. Then when you do, it’s just very special. Maybe after we won the Ulster title against Carndonagh, we started to think we will go the whole way, but it’s hard to name a turning point in the season,” he added. 

Jay Maguire: 

“Since the final, I find a lot of people asking me about it. Sometimes when I go to work, I wear my Eunan’s College tracksuit bottoms and when they notice the crest, they tend to ask me if I was playing with the team and it’s great to be able to tell them that I was”.

As the conversation developed the general consensus was that this particular day in Athlone would become the shared best memory that these youngsters would take with them from their five / six years at the College.

In a modest and respectful manner, they were all fully aware of the relatively short (officially) but nonetheless hugely successful tenure association football, has had in the school’s history. 

“Six other teams have done what we’ve done,” Leon said. “It’s something else to be talked about in the same way as those great teams of the past have been. We’re now the seventh winners and I’m sure someday we’ll come back here to the College and see our team photo up on the wall alongside theirs,” he added.

The lads were honest enough to admit that it wasn’t all plain-sailing throughout the season. During the winter months, training numbers had dropped significantly for a time, so a degree of chasing-up had to be incorporated by players and management alike.  

Overlooking that, manager Michael Kelly, stayed true to his beliefs that there was a bigger prize at stake if the commitment levels from a number of players was raised. Speaking of their gaffer, the batch of players in this particular interview let us in on some trade secrets about the workings of their boss. 

“Mister Kelly’s not so much fire-and-brimstone or hair-dryer treatment. Then again, he’s not overly-tactical in the dressing room either. The best way I could put it is that he’s a good mix of both” Leon said. “He’d put up plenty of posters about what we should do for set-pieces, but I think we’d all agree he’s like Shakespeare when he talks,” he laughed. 

“That man’s vocabulary is off the charts. You could tell he’s an English teacher anyway. Sometimes we’d be thinking that we should’ve brought a few dictionaries into the changing rooms with us”, they quipped and laughed together. “Joking aside though, he was genuinely very heartfelt and made us feel like a family”, Leon concluded. 

Players and Garrett McDaid (assistant manager)


Ryan Creevy attested “the more experience you have behind you on the sidelines, the better you will train and the better you will play on the day. They don’t just tell you what to do, but also what not to do”.

Essentially, Ryan was making a subtle, yet nonetheless immeasurable thanks to the coaching staff who had guided the team to victory on the national stage. 

Largely thanks to the input of Neil Barrett, another past pupil of the school and local business owner, the team was set up with a guided nutritional program in order to prepare in the best way possible. 

Leon Doherty revealed that the emphasis on nutrition “was something that we’d never really had before”. “We were often briefed about self-discipline, but having a proper nutrition programme was ideal. We learned a lot about what we should eat and drink just before a game – carb-loading, hydration and isotonic drinks etc – which was a huge help to us on the field”.

While the players confessed to abandoning parts of the plan during the Christmas period, they quickly fell back in line with the diet program once the new year rang in. The sausage rolls in the canteen were put on the back-burner for the time being as they set their sights on success on the pitch. 

“I’d say it was the semi-final against Athenry where we all noticed the nutrition plan paying off”, added Jay Maguire. “That was a tough game that went into extra-time. They were tired and we were tired, but I would say that by sticking to the healthy eating agenda, it gave us that little bit extra and helped us go on and win that game late on”.

Another key figure involved in the backroom team was Garrett McDaid.

Well-known in local circles already for his many years of loyal service to Letterkenny Rovers, as a player, a physio as well as numerous coaching roles, he joined the staff at Saint Eunan’s last summer when a role within the Additional Support Needs department became available.

As a former student of the school himself, ‘Gaga’ as he is affectionately known, joined up with Michael Kelly and his troops and was immediately on hand able to offer an abundance of advice based on his own extended experience within the game. 

McDaid provides treatment with Letterkenny Rovers (2011)

Perhaps on another level, Garrett also had bittersweet memories of this very same competition. In 1996, he was a part of the College side who lost out in that year’s final after going down 1-0 to Drimnagh Castle. 

Over a quarter-of-a-century later, and now upon his return to the school, he was granted the opportunity to rectify and maybe even banish the memories of that particular heartache. Joining some of the players taking part in the interview, Garrett reflected on the season that has been. 

Garrett explained: “when I came back here as an SNA in September, I was only too delighted to get back involved with the senior team when Michael asked me along to help out. I’d been working with a lot of youth teams and reserve teams at Rovers for a long time, but it was great to come back here and lend a hand”.

“After the first few training sessions, you could tell that there was something there with this team. At first, I wasn’t sure how far we could go but I definitely thought early on that there’s an Ulster in this team at the very least. We left it late in a few games – well maybe all of them actually – but we often dominated teams and that pushed us on”.

Upon arrival to the Ulster final against Carndonagh Community School, Garrett recounted how he believed that a victory in that game, at the provincial level, could be the start of something truly special. Even if it meant keeping those premonitions a secret from the manager.

“I remember going into that game and I turned to Shane McBrearty, who was helping out as a physio that day, and saying that there could be an All-Ireland in this team. I didn’t dare say that to Michael though in case I jinxed it. It was one of those “don’t mention the war” moments around him, I suppose,” he revealed with a typical smile.

Another member to join the backroom team was James Doherty. He’s the first to admit that his invitation to the set-up was with a degree of pure luck. 

The Kilmacrenan pocket rocket revealed how he “was called in as a substitute teacher earlier in the year when Michael asked me to take a training session. The numbers weren’t great that day – maybe 12 or so – but they trained well all the same. I could see there was some real talent, but I still spoke to them about making sure they get the numbers up”.

“Later in the year, I was asked back to sub again and around this time, the team was planning a meeting. Once again, Michael asked me to speak to the lads and that was me officially involved. The coaching staff asked me along to the final in Athlone and, of course, I was more than happy to help out where I could”, he added

“In the run-up to the final, I’ve never seen a school team prepared as well as this one. The school rowed in behind them with a pre-match meal beforehand, everything in the warm-up was perfect and I was struck by the understanding they all had of what their roles were. It was as good a preparation as any League of Ireland team could wish for,” he concluded. 

Just before wrapping up, the boys discussed how normality was quick to set in once again. Within a few days of that famous cup final, they had to quickly turn their attention to their impending Irish oral exams.

While they had no qualms admitting that there wasn’t much practice done for these on the bus back from County Westmeath that night, they raised a gentle smile about what they remembered seeing and hearing as the bus pulled up at the gates of Saint Eunan’s College. 

The spectacle of the occasion wasn’t lost on the management team either. 

“It was unbelievable coming down past College Farm Road. You could see the cars and the hundreds of people who had come out to welcome us home”, Garrett recalled.

“Sometimes people who you didn’t even know were that into football stop you on the street to give their congratulations so you can see how much it means to so many people”.   

When asked if they were looking forward to the day that they would see their picture go up on the wall, there was again a quiet tip of the hat to the sides who had gone before them. 

“The wall that runs along rooms two and three look pretty full-up already, but I suppose that’s a good problem to have, isn’t it?” 


In the year 2022, the ‘Old Grey Lady’ is approaching its 120-year anniversary and has developed into a most wonderfully diverse and multicultural school.

Among the various creeds, ethnic backgrounds and numerous languages that are observed and echo along the corridors nowadays, Latin may not be a popular method of communication anymore, however, the spirit of ‘In Hoc Signo Vinces’ (‘In this Sign, You Will Conquer’) remains a notable embodiment of the school’s ethos.

For 18 years now, Michael Kelly has been a teacher of English and History at Saint Eunan’s, but his affection and commitment to the school reaches back far beyond the day when he first took up his role as a teacher. 

A member of the Eunan’s alumni, he epitomizes all that is good about the school. A man who speaks most eloquently, coupled with a rapid sense of humour to boot, Michael has consistently personified the school’s mission of ‘developing the student as a whole person with tremendous aplomb. 

This year, while traipsing and pacing along the touchlines of football fields, his devotion to cohesion came to fruition when his ‘Heroes’ – as he openly called them on the day – lifted the FAIS Dr. Tony O’Neill Cup after a dramatic and enthralling victory in the final. 

One month has now passed since that day and he kindly took time out to reflect upon the past season. 

“To be honest, I think some of our lads wanted the celebrations to go on a bit longer. Make you want of that,” Michael joked. “In all seriousness though, there’s a great tradition of the sport in this school and now these lads take their place in that history”.

“During Covid, everyone was a bit down in the dumps, especially because they couldn’t even play football. Thankfully we’ve come out the other side as All-Ireland champions. We’ve joined the list of great teams from the past to win our seventh title at this level for the school and these guys now have their own Dr. Tony O’Neill to talk about”, he added. 

Back to back FAIS winners, 1985-86.

The College first won this trophy in 1979 and these successes were followed up with back-to-back successes in 1985 and 1986 and that feat was repeated by the classes of 2004 and 2005. Having reached the final in 2020, the powers-that-be declared that the honour would be shared due to the outbreak of the coronavirus pandemic.

“It’s part of our identity to be successful. There are a lot of great pictures on the wall that celebrate the wonderful achievements of teams of the past, but they’re no longer ghosts-on-the-wall, so to speak. The players who have reached the most recent milestone are in our classrooms and hallways at this very moment in time”, he added. 

Often teams who follow in the footsteps of esteemed brethren can go one of two ways. They can either be inspired by what their predecessors have done or they could possibly become daunted and intimidated by it. Michael seems to take his own unique personal approach to this particular topic.

“In the mid-1980s, Michael Houston was the manager; a gentleman in the history of Saint Eunan’s. He was my Irish teacher when I was here, I had him for P.E in first year as well, and in the team photo, I can’t help but notice that he’s sporting a rather dashing Fred Perry jumper. The man just looks resplendent in it”, Michael chuckled.

“Going by his attire, maybe Mickey was something of a Pep Guardiola in the making, even back then. When I look at the 1979 team, I don’t know how far we were behind fashion in those days, but there seems to be a lot of lads sporting haircuts of the Bay City Rollers in that one, so it’s lovely to pick up on all the different eras of our success stories”.

On a deeper level, one of the driving forces behind Michael’s dream of success was celebrating the legacy of the previous generations. Some of it occurred naturally by his recruitment of the backroom team, three-quarters of whom were past pupils, while some historical gems surfaced with a degree of luck. 

“History repeated itself in some ways. The 1985/1986 team was sponsored by Jochim Loughrey. He was a boarder here along with his brother, John and he’s an uncle of Johnny, proprietor of JT Physiotherapy. Both Jochim and John were fine players in their own right. They probably played the game here during the days when it was banned. Johnny was a talented footballer himself and acted as physio to this year’s senior team physio as well as being a major sponsor this time around”, he told. 

“You can see that I get rather superstitious about these things”, Michael laughed.

In a tribute to Johnny Loughrey, who attended the school between 1997 and 1999 before enrolling at a new school in Milford, Michael expressed profound thanks to him. By his own admission, Michael declared that some of Johnny’s responsibilities were not the most enviable to undertake. 

“We can’t thank Johnny enough for all he did for us. He provided excellent physio treatment at no charge to the players and his knowledge and wisdom was second-to-none. Having said that, he sometimes had to be the bearer of bad news. He’d have to break the news about injuries and players missing games and that’s not an easy undertaking”.  

Being a History teacher, Michael couldn’t help but notice how things went full-circle again once Tony Blake joined up; initially as a goalkeeping coach and one that was instrumental in the team’s development and success.

Players and backroom team with Damien McCroary (Principal) 

“It was just fabulous to be involved and I was delighted to come on board back in October. I think the original plan was to get me in as a goalkeeping coach but my duties quickly grew legs from there, I can tell you”, Tony laughed. 

“The night we came home with the trophy, I logged onto my Facebook account and posted that it’s been 38 long years, but now I’d finally won an All-Ireland with Saint Eunan’s College. The guys were great to work with. They bought into everything we told them. Our original focus was to win Ulster – anything after that would be a bonus – but to go all the way in the All-Ireland, it was just magnificent to be a part of it”, he added. 

Michael cast his mind back to when the possibility of getting Tony on board became a possibility.

“I was hesitant about asking Tony to help out but this was because of me, not him”, Michael informed. “I’ve this funny tendency whereby I hate asking people for favours … but I’ll still go ahead and ask them anyway! I didn’t like the idea of annoying anyone. Fair play to Gaga for sorting that out and, low and behold, Tony said he was genuinely honoured to be asked along”, he explained. 

“We all know that Tony’s father, Eunan ‘Busty’ Blake is right up there with some of the best football players to come out of Letterkenny and is Derry City’s greatest ever right-back”, Michael remarked.

“I had no idea that ‘Busty’ had worked alongside Father Leo Mohan when the school achieved its first national success at senior level in 1979. When Tony subtly revealed this nugget of information on the bus back from one of the latter provincial clashes, I dared to believe that maybe this team may make history.” 

Footballers by the name of Blake have an intrinsic legacy with Saint Eunan’s College sporting triumphs. It certainly continued with Tony in 2022. Michael’s superstitious nature and Tony’s personal pilgrimage to Athlone along with a sprinkling of coincidences, Michael described as ‘poetry.’

It is testament to how the Letterkenny community hold Saint Eunan’s College so dear and are naturally pivotal contributors to the school’s identity; past, present and future.

As Tony recalled: 

“My father was manager of Finn Harps in the late-seventies and Father Mohan asked him to come in and help him out. Nowadays he’d probably be called a ‘consultancy adviser’ or something like that”, he joked. “But yeah, to have the chance to follow in my dad’s footsteps like that was very special for me.”

In the modern era, training methods and approaches to games are a vital component of any team’s ambitions. With new-age technologies and tactical systems being considered as integral as physical fitness. Michael was also lent support from Letterkenny Rovers Donegal League side manager, Stephen McConnell. 

Stephen, a graduate of the College from the Class of 2003, has had great success with his own Rovers side recently. They sealed promotion from Division Two in emphatic style and his input to the Saint Eunan’s side – where many of his own players were also togging out for the school – did not go unnoticed. 

Every local club made a huge contribution to the team’s success and were very understanding when our players had to miss their training or games. Undoubtedly, the spine of this Saint Eunan;s team was drawn from Bonagee United.

Youth team manager at Dry Arch Park, Gary McCroary, was one of the key figures operating in the background.

“He organised two friendlies and gabe tremendous support and encouragement from start to finish. We are indebted to Gary for the selfless role he played in our success”, Michael acknowledged.

Michael recounted, “on one hand, Stephen was a sponsor through Sprint Education Supplies, but he was more than that. We played against his teams twice. Obviously, he had his own team to run and he was always very understanding when some of our players had to miss out on games with his team if they picked up a few knocks, so he was great in that regard.” 

“He also had the facilities to record games and study them afterward. Through this, we were able to gain a greater understanding of where we needed to improve and develop things as well”, Michael added. 

A league title or cup is never won in one day. It takes months, some might say years, to reach that pinnacle. In praise of his captain, Leon Doherty, Michael felt obliged to give an equal measure of thanks to Gareth Nee; an art teacher in the school who had noticed Leon’s leadership qualities when playing for his underage teams in the past.

Throughout the course of one season, there’s more often than not, a significant turning point in the year that sets the alarm bell ringing, however quietly at first, that greatness is within an arm’s reach. For this team, some felt it was the Ulster Final win over CCS, others suggested the late winner in the All-Ireland semi-final.

An abiding memory for the manager came much earlier. 

“We have something of an adverse rivalry with Scoil Mhuire [Buncrana], but it’s one based on complete respect. When we played them in the early stages, we came through a titanic battle with them thanks to a 3-2 win. It was a great game and I’m full of admiration for how Paddy Carr had them so well drilled that day”, Michael recalled. 

“They’d beaten us in the Brandywell at under-16 level but we learned from that defeat. We weren’t interested in revenge or anything like that. We just stayed focused on ourselves and getting that monkey off our back. We may have won that Ulster quarter-final but they could’ve easily been the best team in the country this year. It was perhaps then that we started to gain that bit of momentum”, he added. 

Every manager has their own approach and their own motivations to guide them along the way. Michael Kelly is no different in that regard, but in a moment of self-reflection and self-evaluation – things that come part-and-parcel with being a teacher – he conjured an explanation for, what he believes, works best for him. 

“You have to be your own man. That’s something that my father taught me. I was lucky enough to have so many coaches in my own time that I could draw on to help; people like Trevor Scanlon, Ollie Horgan, Paul Browne and Liam O’Donnell to name only a few. I wanted to do things right, to be inclusive but there were times I had to be ruthless too”, he said. 

Michael admitted that there were times when he had to rotate players to the bench and made no secret of the fact that he instructed his uncle and his cousin to go and watch De La Selle. He dissected opposing sides by watching them on live streams of their games in a bid to identify and exploit strengths and weaknesses respectively.  

Even with all that dossier-like information to hand, there was still time to learn more about the game. 

“There’s no better Conseiller than Garrett McDaid. He would remind us to never get too fixated on the opposition. It was a heartening perspective and yes, we could provide the lads with information about who we were facing, the focus was still on us and how good we were. It’s wonderful to have his experience right here on our doorstep”, Michael told.  

When Tiernan Brown’s winning penalty came close to bursting the net, loud cheers echoed around the Athlone Town FC Stadium. Fist-pumps and hugs coincided with applause and shouts of encouragement and yet the calmest man there was Michael himself. 

“There were still two minutes to play after the penalty. My thoughts were ‘we scored a counter-attack on them in the first half, so there’s no reason why they couldn’t do the same.’ It was that age-old adage that ‘you’re at your weakest after you’ve scored’ but when the final whistle did go, it was just surreal”, Michael recalled. 

“Shane McBrearty was on the sideline. He’s a big guy and I think I remember getting a bear-hug off him. Then the other guys all jumped on top of me and all I could hear was the muffled shouts and cheers from the pitch and the stands. My memory of it is a tad hazy, to be honest it was just complete disbelief.” 

“The journey home was quite possibly the nicest journey I have ever taken. I was in dreamland. Just sitting there and looking at the trophy at the front of the bus was special. I may have never got to play for Liverpool, but this was something that I’ll never forget. To come home with a Saint Eunan’s team as All-Ireland winners! Phenomenal!”

Michael Kelly and former manager, Paul Browne.

Just as the team bus exited the Dry Arch roundabout and the town was now coming into sight, there was a momentary pause as the Garda Escort took the reins of leading the coach through town for the cavalcade. 

“We stopped on the Port Road for a minute. The Garda were going to be leading us through the town from this point on. I looked around and saw, just a few cars back, Joel Gorman in a car with [his father] Anthony. Joel was the midfield general, along with Jack Dwyer, of our under-17s team that lost out a few years ago, but there he was, cheering us all the way home.” 

“If this victory showed us anything, it’s that there’s still an unspeakable amount of goodwill towards Saint Eunan’s College. It showed what it means to the people of this community.” 

And with that, the school with the Castle-like structure that overlooks Sentry Hill now has new memories made and a new chapter in its already famous history. 





International football seems to get mixed reviews these days. On the one hand, we all love a summer tournament like the Euros or the World Cup – even the latter is getting a winter berth this year – but on the other, many see it as a hindrance to the domestic league and European cups season. It’s a debate that never seems to get resolved. 

Being an avid follower of the Republic of Ireland team is not always easy. In fact, it never really is, but with the last few results, is this a time for a sense of quiet optimism. 

Over the last few years, the FAI has fallen into financial shambles. The antics of a certain Mister Delaney being the catalyst for the bulk of such trouble. That aside however, the decisions made to seek quick-fix solutions in the past led to an awful undoing. 

Huge money was thrown the way of Giovanni Trappatoni and while he did gather a number of important results on the field, including qualification Euro 2012, the style of play he adapted was overly-reliant on defense and general negativity. By the end of his tenure, a change was badly needed. 

Next up was Martin O’Neill who took in Roy Keane as his second-in-command. Again, there’s no denying that the Derryman led us to an impressive series of famous wins over the likes of Germany, Italy and Austria along the way, his spell also ended in fairly drab circumstances. An absolute mauing at home to Denmark in 2017 compounded that. 

Now thought, after much chopping and changing. Stephen Kenny, who succeeded a short dig-out spell from returning manager Mick McCarthy, seems to have gotten a bit of a foothold with what he wants to do. The last few results, of which included a friendly win over Qatar and decent draws against Serbia, Portugal and Belgium have shown this. Not forgetting the late win over Lithuania.

He seems keen to give as many players as possible a run-out and gain experience of playing in a green jersey. In the not too distant past, as the likes of Robbie Keane and Shay Given got older, it seemed as though it became harder to get out of playing for the Ireland team than it was to get on it. 

As a result of this overplaying of the tried-and-tested lads, younger players like Enda Stephens, John Egan and Matt Doherty, to name but a few, had to wait a lot longer to get their run in the side. Kenny seems to be aware of that situation and, going by his actions, he gives off the impression that he wants to start from scratch with the newbies. 

Last weekend’s draw with Belgium was earned with a spirited performance. Unlike previous years, it was refreshing to see Ireland get the ball on the deck and pass it around the field with a greater sense of purpose and deliberation. Chiedozie Ogbene’s overhead kick for the first goal got the headlines, but there was more brewing underneath the surface.

Not that I’m any sort of body-language expert but one could tell there was a sense of focus and steely determination amongst the players. What’s more, if their expressions at the final whistle are anything to go by, they look as though they truly enjoy playing for their country and that it’s not a needless distraction from their club commitments.

Of course, this was followed up with a 1-0 win over Lithuania. Far from a classic but a wonder goal deep in stoppage time from Troy Parrot will surely stick most in the memory of fans from that night.

The majority of our international players ply their trade in lower league football in England. Usually that’s a death-nail in the hopes of ever getting to represent your country for most national sides. Not for Ireland. And maybe that’s why they embrace the sights and sounds of a packed Aviva Stadium on a Saturday evening. 

It’s fair game to suggest that for too long, promising Irish talent was overly-reliant on getting spotted by high-flying English clubs. That trend seems to be fading. Josh Cullen is playing great stuff with Anderlecht in Belgium and a number of rising talents, such as Gavin Bazuna, have gained valuable experience from their League of Ireland days. 

Don’t get me wrong. It’s great to have players playing at the very top level. Caoimhín Kelleher being the toast of Merseyside – the red half anyway – when Liverpool lifted the Carabao Cup was great. Shane Duffy looks as though he’s back to his best since his return to Brighton, but at least we’re not as dependent on those élite clubs as we once were. 


A few weeks back, I cheekily stayed up a bit later than usual on a Sunday night to watch the opening half of Superbowl LVI between the Rams and the Bengals. It was a ‘school-night’ for me so, as you can imagine, I had one eye on the clock through most of the opening two quarters. Then I thought: ‘Sure, I might take in the halftime show at this stage now.’ 

By Jonathan Foley

While I could never call myself an out-and-out hip-hop fan in my younger days, it was still nonetheless a nostalgia treat when some aging – yet still hugely talented – rap stars of yesteryear entertained the millions watching with a show that generated huge flashbacks to days gone by. 

As the ‘D-O Double G’ teamed up with the Real Slim Shady. Joined in unison by Dr. Dre, the Father of Rap, Fifty Cent with Mary J Blige still reminding us that “we don’t need no hateration,” it didn’t take long for the toes to start tapping. More than that, my mind started wandering back to when these melodies were chart-toppers back when I was a teenager.

Their performance served as something more than just a mash-up of old hits. In essence, it let people know that despite all the things that have gone wrong in life over the past two decades or so, that they are still here and willing to entertain us just like they used to. In essence, it was a fifteen-minute showcase that mean something more. 

When most people in this world go through their twenties and thirties, there’s usually a lot of joy and happiness that fills those years: falling in love, starting a family, buying a house etc. On the other hand, it’s also a time when so many things leave your life: saying goodbye to a loved one, having people close to you pass away and so many factors outside of one’s own control. 

As good as the world is, it’s certainly not had its most enjoyable tenure this past while. We all know why there. 

And yet when these artists took to the stage at the SoFi Stadium in Los Angeles, they reminded those of a certain age and ilk that “Hey! It’s alright! We’re still here to perform the tunes that we did just like when you were a kid!” 

It must be a marvelous gift to have when you can play a few instruments or lift up a microphone and make people feel a profound sense of comfort. Granted, this quartet may have had to modify some of their original lyrics to a more family-friendly audience this time around, but there’s no denying that their ability to throw out a few quick tunes was nothing short of brilliant. 

Looking back, it could’ve been easier to simply throw a few hundred thousand dollars at some flash-in-the-pan modern day pop-star to do this year’s halftime show. Credit to the organizers though, they stuck their necks out and went with performers who most of the younger generation might be somewhat unfamiliar with. 

If anything, I imagine those in attendance at the game – and the countless more tuning in on television – had more parents and adults bumping their fist along to the tunes than kids. It might have been a facepalm moment for some youngsters but that’s because their mums, dads and elders “still got love for da streets!”

It was just a pity it was a ‘school night’ for me.


Originally penned by Jonathan Foley in December 2021.

All connected with Celtic felt a pang of grief hit them recently with news of the sad passing of Bertie Auld. One of the few remaining members of the famous Lisbon Lions who left this life at the age of 83.

Known for his devilish and occasionally risqué humour, Auld was known to have touched the hearts of so many he met down through the years. 

“A man who always had time for an autograph or a photo,” as an emotional John Hartson told Sky Sports New on the morning after the news had broken. Going by the floods of posts online by fans who wanted to express their sympathies, it seems that Hartson’s words spoke the truth. 

Other famous faces in Scottish football also went public with their memories of him. Former Scotland manager, Craig Brown, fondly recalled how Auld had no qualms about wearing his European Cup winners medal around his neck. 

“‘When you get one of these Craig, you can talk to me about football,’” Brown recalled with a smile about the playful banter with his old friend. All in good-natured fun, of course. 

Inevitably, it was at Celtic were he’ll forever be immortalised. 

Having been signed by the club twice, his second spell, which commended in January 1965, was to be of huge importance to the future success that would follow. 

Auld had often plied his trade in the outside-left position, but under Jock Stein’s tactical innovation, he was molded into a more central midfield role. Essentially forming the best midfield lineup the club ever had. 

If Billy McNeill was the leader in the defensive arena and with Jimmy Johnstone being the entertainer on the wing, Bertie Aul was truly the heartbeat of the team.

Aside from his aforementioned role in Celtic’s historic European Cup win in 1967, Auld also went on to help the club lift three league titles and four Scottish Cups during two spells with the club and scoring 85 goals in the process. 

On that day in Lisbon, his antics in the tunnel have become the stuff of legend. 

As the Celtic and Inter Milan lineups were waiting to ascend the staircase that would bring them to the pitch at the Estadio Nacional, nerves and jitters were understandably in abundance. 

It’s worth noting at this point that this was an era where players of a club were often the same people who grew up supporting the club as children. Auld was no exception to that. 

As boots clattered in anticipation of the signal to start the walk towards the field-of-play, Auld is remembered for starting up a rousing rendition of ‘Hail, Hail! The Celts Are Here!’ 

While their Italian counterparts looked on in bemusement, his Celtic teammates clapped, cheered and sang along in unison. The mood became that of excitement. 

All of a sudden, the men in green and white were raring to go and, as for that particular game, it will always remain the most famous in the club’s history. Much of it down to ‘wee Bertie.’

In 2017, and in days of better health, Auld appeared on a BBC Scotland documentary, ‘Glasgow 1967’, to mark the fiftieth anniversary of that most special occasion. 

During filming, he took the crew on a tour of Panmure Street. His local neighborhood where he plied his trade as a footballer in the streets of his part of the city. 

As he discussed his memories, he joyfully recalled the sing-songs the boys from his tenement block used to sing on the way to school matches. 

He could vividly recall which house was his, the names of everyone who lived on the street and what number adorned their doorway. No small feat considering this was the post-war period he had grown up in.

Amid all his laughs and jokes, he made sure to point out the goodness within those people during such austere times. 

“Somebody, whether it was your own mother or somebody else’s … they always made sure that you had something to eat,” he told with just a bit more emotion than usual.

As alluded to earlier, and throughout much of this article, Auld’s footballing ability – where he was known to be a bit of terrier – was matched by the warmth of his kindness and wit off it. 

There is one story about him having a war of words with a referee which we’d love to tell you about. 

Unfortunately, some of the language involved in it would be a tad too colourful for this paper right now, but if you feel like looking it up, it will have you in stitches of giggles. 

For now though, it’s time to say farewell to one of Celtic’s greatest even though his name will never be far away from the lips, hearts and minds of the faithful.

Bertie Auld: 1938-2021.