It can probably be fairly safely assumed that it was a parent or a similar leadership figure who first planted the love of sport within.
It certainly was with yours truly, and while that initially manifested as da bringing me to internal matches involving my own class mates in primary school. That then evolved to following the school team and then on to Meath matches.
But, in all honesty, it was when one was bitten by the club bug that the all shaping influence GAA was to become in and on my life began to take hold.
Again, it started with the group of lads my own age hit U-12 or U-14. That, however, presented its own challenges with the longings to be out there kicking football with the lads kicked in.
Obviously, that wasn’t going to be possible, so it was a matter of marrying the greatest passion in life with what I was being told was a decent grasp of writing in this seat.
So began, in one facet of the journey around this big old ball, the time of my life. The 11 years spent between PRO and Asst. PRO of St Peter’s Dunboyne. Mind you, to quote the late, great Albert Reynolds, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, of equal if not greater importance than the rudiments of what transpires between the lines are the people encountered and the lifelong friendships made.
With people from all over Meath, Ireland and a good chunk of the world. Yet it is true what ‘they’ – whomever that is thought to be – say, the greatest heroes are closest to home.
Well, in this case that needs a degree of qualification. For those who will dominate discourse hereafter are from about eight miles from home.
However, that again requires an asterisk appended to it because while the Kelly clan might have set up a base camp in Dunshaughlin, their origins were more 80 metres from my gate than eight miles.
Which is one of a thousand reasons I was shocked, stunned and heartbroken to learn on Saturday evening last of the sudden death of Martin Kelly, Roestown, Drumree, and formerly of beside us here on Station Road, Dunboyne.
At this point, it should probably be pointed out that Martin was actually well gone from Dunboyne when he and I first became acquainted but vivid memories are still and will eternally be retained of conversations with his late father, Kieran, about life in the hills of Gortahork in the Donegal Gaelteacht, about all things engineering and map related and a time when the Railway Cup was the biggest show in town.
The latter being something with which the family had an especial affinity as, if memory serves me correctly, Kieran’s brother Paul, remarkably still with us, was something of a legend in the annals of the shamefully discontinued competition.
It was probably no surprise at all then that it was at a football match in Dunshaughlin that Martin and I – and by extension Niall – first crossed paths. For once, who was actually playing in the match cannot be recalled, but what can be is the fact that father touted on son – who it was conceded had a pretty useful left boot – (understatement of the century there) had been sent off while playing with the Meath U-16s the previous weekend. Two things about that – it was obviously 1996, and a case of starting as one meant to go on. Sorry Sweets, couldn’t resist!
What none of us could have known that summery midweek evening was the bond which would develop between yours truly and the Kelly family. Though in fairness, it was a case of what was already there going down to another generation as my late parents were always close to Kieran and his late wife Pearl. Indeed, at the time of my mother’s death less than three months ago, Pearl Ni Cheallaigh’s Memorium Card was still in her purse.
Through existing connections are new connections fostered. Anybody who has been frequenting possibly any of my writings basically from the time they began being published will surely know of the bond between David Gallagher and I. Well, with Niall and Gally on the same Meath teams all the way up, it was like having the protective wall of a house either side of me. And thankfully they’re still propping me up, perhaps even more so now that they’ve, in one context, hung the boots up.
Continuing with the wall theme, Shane is most definitely the third one in the structure around me. Actually, maybe not so much a wall as a step ladder, getting me to places it would certainly not have been possible without him. From writing in the Meath Echo/Forum to An Fear Rua – the GAA Unplugged, brainchild of the late and lamented Liam Cahill, to writing in match programmes on big Croke Park days. All of which eventually led to the inception of http://www.boylantalkssport.com and stints with the Meath Chronicle and the Sunday Independent. To my utmost regret, this corner appears to have been deemed surplus to requirements with the latter pair, but, if Bryan Menton can manage such a dramatic and successful comeback, hope won’t be lost just yet!
There’s a fourth wall in the protective circle too, but, well, if you know, you know. What will be said, though, is that, what started out as sporting connections have turned out to be so very much more than that. As has been very fortunately the case with many people met over the years.
Depending on how far back you want to go, to a recollection of the late Kieran having teenage Shane and Niall out in what were then Martin Tobin’s and Denis Feighery’s fields, training them to take levels. Presumably in the hope of inculcating the engineering bug to another generation. But the two lads found handier, cleaner ways of getting by!
Still, the wheels of life turns in mysterious ways, and, as years passed by, when Kieran went on to spend his later years in the nursing home outside of Dunboyne village. dad and I would visit Kieran fairly regularly when up there to see the late Tom Yourell. While there, we’d often meet Martin up visiting his dad.
And, it was in such circumstances that other avenues in life were explored in conversation with Martin. From golf, to theatre, to the storied days of motor racing in Dunboyne and the fact that, whatever about the engineering, the family connection between ours and theirs has stretched into a third generation and will hopefully go on still further.
Mention of theatre above actually again takes the mind back. The following is meant in the best way possible, but, Martin always came across as a positive eccentric. meaning that encounters and conversations with Martin were never less than entertaining and quite often educational. A neighbour, a friend and, with the Kelly family collectively, part of life on ‘The Road’ for as long as can be recalled. I will miss him terribly.
To Mon, Shane, Niall, Grainne, Ciaran and Sinead, extended family, grandchildren, his sisters Deirdre, Maeve, Eimear and Cliodhna, uncle Paul and wide circle of friends in which I was honoured to number, my deepest sympathy. Rest easy old friend.
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