Behind the wire: A Donegal slant on the age-old Mayo rivalry

It's safe to say, as a man who has made his way from one west-coast football heartland nestled between the mountains in Donegal, to another similar fortress oft forgotten by those in the capital, that some of the best days following those in green and gold have been fiercely intertwined with those of Mayo.

When ‘the manchild’ Michael Murphy, himself of Mayo stock, led his charges up the steps of the Hogan Stand in 2012 to lift the Holy Grail, it was the forlorn faces of Aidan O’Shea, Cillian O’Connor, and company who watched on following a final which kick-started an unprecedented era of near-misses.

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Mayo and Donegal are not dissimilar. Both on the fringes of Europe, far from the minds of those in the capital. Just how we like it. Towering mountains, glorious beaches, and a sense of community seldom found elsewhere.

And of course, that strange obsession with Gaelic football.

Both have endured scarce moments in the sun, with Donegal scaling the summit twice since Mayo last brought the sacred and often elusive Sam back to sit under the Reek.

Often, when the Donegal torch had gone out and the balls, bibs, and cones were put away for the season, I found myself half-hoping that the Green and Red, spearheaded by brave souls who were knocked back time and again, would finally put it up to those so-called ‘powerhouses’.

However, when it came to heading to Jones Road to take on those strapping soldiers, whether it be James Horan’s battalion or the teams spearheaded by another man with a foot in both camps in Stephen Rochford, it was war.

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GOLDEN TICKET

My father was one of the 49,666 crammed into a Croke Park a world away in 1992 for the All-Ireland semi-final between the pair, and their maiden Championship joust.

That day was a golden ticket for two sides who were, at that stage, strangers to the third Sunday in September. Connacht kingpins Mayo had only appeared once in the decider since the halcyon days of 1951, while Donegal, with a fresh-faced Jim McGuinness on the subs bench, had never even made it in the gate on All-Ireland final day.

It’s safe to say that neither side produced their best fare. However, the happy fans on the bus alongside a certain John Bradley as it bounced along the road back to Bomany, a townland which went on to produce Michael Murphy, would have cared little as they babbled on about the efforts of Martin McHugh, or the massive exhale when Liam McHale’s goal effort rebounded off the crossbar.

Donegal may have won Sam that year, but they endured a similar demise in the years before Jim McGuinness ascended to the helm.

In between, there was one bright spark. My football interest was in its infancy when Donegal played the NFL final in 2007, and I was far too impatient to endure the four-hour journey to the capital to take on John O’Mahony’s Mayo.

The next morning, when my father emerged from bed, he was buoyant as he described how Neil Gallagher, whom he still claims to have taught everything he knows, received the cup.

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BEST DAY

Five years later, Donegal and Mayo were set to collide on the biggest stage. This time, Jim McGuinness was on the bench once more, this time with the word ‘Báinisteoir’ emblazoned across his back. This time, I was in the stands to witness what, years on, ranks as the best sporting experience of my life.

Those in the Hills had previously seen what was considered a relative shock, as Mayo, powered by the unstoppable Cillian O’Connor and Alan Dillon, downed the Dubs in the last four.

Nerves were ragged as I, aged 13, made my way to the Hogan Stand clutching the programme so hard my knuckles turned white. Even after Michael Murphy rattled the net early doors, it was testament to the never-say-die attitude of James Horan’s men that they kept within touching distance throughout.

The full-time whistle spelled ecstasy and agony in equal measure.

One year on, both sides met in Croker once more, this time in the quarter-final. Donegal had been poor that season, and surrendered their Ulster crown earlier in the summer.

However, surely they couldn’t lose to a side that they had defeated just eleven months before, right?

Wrong! Very wrong!

Sitting behind the goal in the Davin Stand that day was sobering, as Cillian O’Connor tore Donegal to shreds to make it a silent trip back north through the likes of Emyvale and Omagh.

Two years later wasn’t much better. This time, an unstoppable Lee Keegan put in a performance Karl Lacey would have been proud of, as his marauding runs yielded a 1-2 return to send Rory Gallagher’s Donegal packing.

Six years ago brought about the most recent Championship instalment between two foes who had certainly gotten to know each other in the previous seven years.

That day, not too dissimilar from Sunday’s tussle, Donegal headed south with a place in the knock-out phase of the All-Ireland Series on the line.

CASTLEBAR 

I wasn’t quite able to make the trip to MacHale Park that day to sample the Castlebar atmosphere for the first time. Unfortunately, I was able to tune into Highland Radio as Oisín Kelly was handed the task of commentating on a narrow defeat which saw the Green and Red progress to the semis.

Michael Murphy was once again at his sparkling best, notching 1-4, but anything he could do, Cillian O’Connor (again) could do better.

Time will tell if Tír Chonaill’s finest can inch themselves ahead of a dead-even head-to-head record dating all the way back to 1940.

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However, whatever happens, heart, pride, and honour will all abound when players, fans, and management make their way to the Hyde for this date with destiny.

Let the games commence.