Mayo Sports Moment of the Year: Hyde heartbreak and the dream I finally lived

SUNDAY, June 15, 2025, may not be a day that will be looked back upon with much fondness by  Mayo fans.

That afternoon, in a cloudless Hyde Park, not one soul was leaving early. The clock read 69:53 when Aghamore’s finest, Fergal Boland, clipped over a dramatic late equaliser.

Despite the horrors of Cavan in Castlebar a few weeks prior, the Green and Red had somehow improbably kept their season alive.

However, the killer instinct of Donegal was on full display.

A win or draw didn’t make a touch of difference to Jim McGuinness, but Ciaran Moore didn’t care as he bisected the uprights, spelling desolation for the Mayo contingent among the 18,731 supporters who were on tenterhooks throughout.

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While the decider may have been an unwanted end of the journey for the readers of this publication, it was the realisation of a dream ten years in the making.

From the first time an article of mine was published at age 16, a 2015 Donegal News report on a Minor tie between my own Milford and local rivals Fanad Gaels, a fire had been lit in me.

The desire to capture the thousands of twists and turns that make up the mad world of Gaelic football and tell the countless tales that shape the fabric of our beautiful game was only in its infancy.

But from there it only grew. I weaved my way from Gaoth Dobhair to Malin and everywhere in between with my notepad in hand, growing and learning with every day on the road.

However, my dream of covering the real cut-and-thrust, top-table action never quite came to fruition.

My love for the towns and parishes which make up the DNA and fabric of inter-county fare is boundless, but inter-county football is where it’s at.

In the red-hot glare of battle, 30 brave warriors put their club allegiances to the side in the quest for the ultimate glory, that beautiful and iconic trophy.

My passion for football and sport was still in its infancy when Sam Maguire came to rest in ‘The Hills’ in 2012.
From that fateful day, the likes of Jim McGuinness and Michael Murphy were put on a pedestal in my mind, higher than Mount Errigal itself.

Some 13 years on, when I first stepped through the door of The Mayo News on the Fairgreen in Westport this January, I was entering a whole new world.

Everyone and their mother knows of Mayo’s love affair with Celtic Crosses and their insatiable hunger to banish the so-called ‘curse’, as well as the eternal passion for the O’Neills.

However, actually experiencing it first-hand gives a true appreciation of the lengths these people go to. I didn’t know my Louisburghs from my Lahardanes, or my Kilmeenas from my Kilmaines, but I got about learning the intricacies and nuances of this vibrant footballing landscape.

It was a source of great pride for my football-mad family when I covered my first inter-county game, and that pride went up another notch when I was able to cover the finale of the regular league season.

It may have been a second-string Donegal that made their way to Castlebar that day, and neither side was showing their hand, but it was still a moment to cherish for me.

However, fate would conspire to bring my adopted home and my original one together once more. Both bands of brothers knew that a win would secure their passage through to the knock-out series.

Much had been written in the build-up, whether it be the sauntering down memory lane, the talk of the distance to be travelled by Donegal fans (not to open that can of worms), or the key matchups that could seal fates.

However, for me, I was bustling with excitement setting off from Knock. Weaving through the droves trying to make their way into the main stand was proving a stern task, but once I scaled the steps to the press box, there was no want of familiar Donegal faces.

Whether it was Oisín Kelly, whose voice has been the soundtrack to so many good (and bad) moments on ‘Highland Radio’, or Ryan Ferry, the man who gave me my first opportunity to pursue the job I love, there was no shortage of warm welcomes.

Ten minutes before throw-in, I took the chance to make my way around to take a photograph with my parents and grandfather, just about making it on time after car troubles, capturing another moment in time in following Tír Chonaill.
Then it was onto business.

Talking points weren’t thin on the ground, whether it was the black card to Peadar Mogan, the wastefulness of Mayo with the wind on their backs, or the questionable booing of Donegal fans as Ryan O’Donoghue took an (unintentional) hit from Jason McGee.

There was a near-certainty that both fans would be heading home happy with their lot when Boland scored the leveller, but there’s nothing crueller than sport.

As the dust settled and everyone had a second to process the fallout and Mayo’s exit from the race for Sam, the throng of journalists made their way to gather the thoughts of those in command on the sidelines.

Stephen Rochford was magnanimous in defeat, in what would prove to be his last game in charge. However, being in the media huddle with ‘Jim’ up close and personal was fascinating.

His objectives were clear: to create a narrative taking the spotlight off his players and to unify the county behind him, and he did just that.

Many questioned whether the narrative that Donegal were always forced to travel long distances because of some vendetta was true or not, but it served its purpose.

The press box in the hours after a game bears more resemblance to a college library at the end of term than something to do with sports.

Dozens of people with headphones on, typing like hell with deadlines fast approaching.

Eventually, I stole off West along the N60, discussing every nuance of the tie on the phone until the wheels touched the driveway an hour later.

That June afternoon may not be fondly remembered by many in this county, but for me, it was a chapter I’d always dreamed of writing, and that I did.

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