THURSDAY
A real legend
For a few years in my teens, I was very keen on running. There was some success, including coming third in a Leinster final when representing a Longford club (the one and only time I ever ran over hurdles).
Eamonn Coghlan’s charisma drew me to the sport. He was electrifying, his famous ‘kick’ on the final lap bringing him success around the world, and recognition as one of the great middle-distance runners of the 1980s (and late ‘70s).
Coghlan was a superstar during a golden era for Irish middle-distance running, with Marcus O’Sullivan, Frank O’Mara and Longford’s Ray Flynn also to the fore.
Watching Coghlan – not dissimilar to watching the magnificent Sonia O’Sullivan some years later – tested all the emotions. Sadly, twice on the biggest stage, heartbreak greeted him at the finishing line – with two fourth place finishes in the Olympics Games. Thankfully, Coghlan offset those disappointments with a memorable 5000m world title win in 1983, his domination of the mile event on the US indoor circuit, European gold in the 1500m, and multiple other successes.
While hero-worshipping Coghlan, I was well aware of the legend of the Irishman who won Olympic gold before I was born. Ronnie Delaney’s name – and his feat in Melbourne in 1956 – echoed through the ages. He was a legend before overuse of the term became the annoyance it is today.
Many years ago, a cousin of mine attended Ronnie Delaney’s book launch. Knowing my fondness for sport, he kindly bought a book for me and got our Olympic legend to autograph it.
As my cousin doesn’t live locally, we very rarely meet. When we do, my cousin apologetically mentions that he still has that book for me, personally signed by the superstar athlete.
Ronnie Delaney (91) died yesterday. He was a sporting icon, and a gentleman of the highest order too. On social media, I watched the breathtaking final lap that saw Delaney pass several opponents to claim gold in the 1500m final at the 1956 Olympics.
Last night, as a grateful nation mourns and celebrates a national hero, I texted my cousin, demanding that he finally gives me the copy of the book that bears Ronnie Delaney’s signature (and good wishes). I suppose you could say that by now, it’s a running joke between us.
FRIDAY
Classic comedy
I’ve been catching up on the classic US sitcom Seinfeld, this show having largely passed me by when it aired from 1989 to 1998. It’s a masterpiece. All 180 episodes are on Netflix (I have over 140 more to enjoy).
SATURDAY
Rugby drama
The ‘Six Nations’ tournament hit new heights for drama and excitement this evening. Earlier, Ireland were superb in a cracking game against Scotland. Icing on the cake for Roscommon people came with Brideswell native, Darragh Murray scoring a try on his Six Nations debut as Ireland won the Triple Crown.
As an unlikely English win in Paris would have made Ireland champions, we then entered uncharted territory… with Irish people enthusiastically cheering England on. Even Gerry Adams tweeted support for England.
France edged an extraordinary epic 48-46, a last-gasp Thomas Ramos penalty securing the title for Les Bleus. It was, Robert Kitson would later write in The Guardian, “a dizzying blur of a game” with the Six Nations showing “the timeless appeal of great sporting drama.” Dare I say that France are deserving champions – but Vive Irlande too!
SUNDAY
Superb win
A superb win for Roscommon at Hyde Park today. When Donegal, 13 points adrift at one stage, cut that deficit to just one with 13 minutes remaining, it appeared that our chances were… gone with the (fierce) wind. Remarkably, given how much the conditions were then favouring Donegal, Roscommon steadied a ship that looked odds-on to sink. The Conor Hand goal was a work of art, created and performed before a live audience – via the speed of thought and motion of ten Roscommon players.
MONDAY
On St Patrick’s Day…
I’m not sure people really want to work today. Me included. Something’s not quite right. We know it’s not a bank holiday, but we seem to think it should be. And we know there’s a big bank holiday coming… tomorrow. St Patrick’s Day falling on a Tuesday doesn’t feel right!
We are like the guests in Fawlty Towers who irritated Basil by standing around in the hotel lobby, waiting for him to do a scheduled fire drill. They knew a fire drill was coming up, so what was the point in them moving around? Much better to stand and wait (cue a Basil outburst).
In much the same way, we are waiting around today for tomorrow’s big arrival… the bank holiday that we feel today should be.
TUESDAY
Meanwhile in Washington…
As it turns out, I end up working for most of St Patrick’s Day ‘behind closed doors’ in the People office. By 4 o’clock it’s time to have a coffee and check online to see what’s happening in the world.
This brings me to RTE’s live coverage of the press conference at the White House, President Trump and Taoiseach Micheál Martin sitting side by side.
For the 15 minutes or so I watched, our man barely got a word in, one contribution on immigration in Europe aside.
Apart from that brief response – cautiously delivered by Martin after Trump described Keir Starmer’s immigration policy as “a disaster” – the Taoiseach was a spectator, reduced to flicking what I think were imaginary flecks of dust from his trousers. As usual, Trump totally dominated the exchanges with the media, embarking on lengthy bouts of self-praise and dubious claims.
I switched to Spotify on my phone, and resumed working on this week’s paper, Luciano Pavarotti’s greatest hits a more relaxing backdrop than Trump’s greatest rants.
LATER…
Micheál & Winston…
To be fair, when I saw further coverage tonight, it became clear the Taoiseach did get a few ‘spakes’ in.
He’s being praised (certainly in Britain) for defending UK Prime Minister Starmer, whom Trump has recently taken to goading by way of unfavourable reference to Winston Churchill.
This led to the sight today of an Irish Taoiseach half-praising and half-criticising Churchill. The keyboard warriors on social media couldn’t agree on how Micheál Martin had ‘performed’. There was praise and vitriol… scrolling through the web of commentary becomes pointless.
Overall, this appears to have been a very solid outing for the Taoiseach at the now rather tricky away venue that is the Oval Office.
