COLUMN: Mayo's Salthill win offers relief, optimism, and fresh belief

“UNDIGNIFIED - humiliating - a whipping”. It will be a year ago next week since I took to the keyboard, surrounded by a red mist. Galway had rocked into Castlebar like they owned the place, and Mayo, unfathomably ignoring the new rules, had shipped a ten-point trouncing.

The vibes were bad. I heard later that the column was not pleasing to certain members of the then management team, but reviewing it 12 months later, I wouldn’t change a word, because the manner of that defeat was pleasing to no-one.

What a thrill, then, to have a different tale to tell this week. Mayo’s first-round victory over the Tribesman on Sunday was “only the league” too, but it has finally exorcised the demons of 2025’s disaster, and I promise you, dear readers, like 2021, I will never bring it up again.

On Sunday, the phrase “Moranball” was coined, to the wry amusement of the manager.

The Mayo Football podcast’s Mike Finnerty will claim credit, but the Irish Examiner’s Maurice Horan was quick out of the blocks with too.

It represents a nod to a previous era, but also the birth of a new one; one with the promise of fast, direct football, the coming of youth, and a sense of hope and confidence that has been absent from Mayo for too long.  

CLOSE THE WINDOW

Our crew was on the road early, too early for some of us, but a hearty breakfast and a good fill of coffee in Kennedy’s in Castlebar set us up for the road ahead.

It was mild. We were a bit on edge. Someone opened the car window on the outskirts of the city, to be met with a rebuke: “Close that window! We’re in Galway!”

One of us lives in Galway and has had the terrible misfortune of having her head turned by a Galwayman, who in turn, had the misfortune of having to meet a gang of rabid Mayo fans (us) outside Pearse Stadium.

Fortunately for him, we were most distracted and unsettled by the weather conditions. No rain! A complete absence of hurricane conditions! Sunshine!

Had the batteries in the wind machine run out? Surely this could not be the Salthill we have grown to know and despise? At one point I even had to take off my coat. It wasn’t the only pleasant surprise of the day. 

BREAKING BALL

A few minutes into game, someone gets a text. “Will ye get off the television? I’m trying to eat me dinner!” Caught again, but for once, in serene mode.

At that point, Rob Hennelly had just sent over his first two-pointer of the day. Smiles all round. And from that point, things went pretty smoothly, until, well, they didn’t. 

But the first half was a joy. Too many moments to mention. Bob “Breaking Ball” Tuohy, put in a performance for the ages, and now needs to match it next weekend. Darragh Beirne served up a delightful little dummy.#

Ryan conducted the orchestra around the field. Rob sent over a monster of a two-pointer basically from his own ’45 (or so legend will have it). Jack Carney timed his score before the break to perfection, raising the orange flag just as the hooter went.

The Mayo team were cheered off at half-time. It’s been a while since we’ve seen it. 

During half time I bumped into my friend Thérese, a die-hard Galway fan who stewards on match days. She is, being a far better person than I, unfailingly generous in both victory and defeat.

It’s always fun to hear how the vibes are in opposition counties, and it appears the vibes in Galway are ‘not good.’ There is a sense there that 2026 is last chance saloon for their All-Ireland hopes, but you know what they say about dying wasps.

I also had the unexpected pleasure, while in the bathroom, of being able to hear a snippet of Andy’s half-time team talk through the wall. Whatever about the team, I emerged ready to go to war.

MAROON PURPLE PATCH

The maroons proved in the second half that no-one has any business writing them off, and their purple patch coincided with Mayo’s energy and concentration starting to fade, and the rhythm being disrupted by substitutions.

Our kickouts, so decisive before, started to go astray, and we made no attempt to vary them. The Tribesmen made hay, raising the green flag twice. Mayo had built an 11-point buffer but were grateful to get out the gate with a three-point win.

It was a stressful half; the sense was that if we somehow relinquished a lead of that size, that it would be hugely damaging. But we did not. And we managed, in the midst of it, thanks to the cool head of Cian McHale, raise a green flag of our own, right when it was most needed.

But still, it was stressful. Free heart checks all round.

A word for referee Conor Lane, who did nothing to enhance his reputation. I am sure he prides himself on “letting the game flow” when in reality he appears to just ignore the actual rules – for both sides, and of course, he lost control near the end when the game descended into a melee over a farcical breach. 

During the confusion, the stadium announcer decided to announce the winners of the free tickets to the Win a House in Kinvara competition to be met by a roar in unison: “NO-ONE CARES!” 

A word also for the Galway management, who do the best impression of a circus act on the sideline, during every game.

PJ obviously took a little too much inspiration from his meeting with Pep Guardiola, but some day, a linesman will eventually get fed up, and how we will laugh. 

How relieved we were to hear the full-time hooter, having been put through the wringer. But what joy, to get that win, there.

Galway will not be devastated, having unearthed two serious talents in Fionn McDonagh and Ciarán Mulhern; they are far from dead yet. But we left smiling - there was a time we would have lost that game, so Sunday felt significant because we didn’t.

We did enough to win, and what more can any of us ask for? It was probably the perfect outcome; two points in the bag, some great performances, but enough of a wobble to keep everyone’s feet firmly on the ground.

This column marks the start of my eleventh year documenting the fan’s experience for The Mayo News. Cheers and tears, miles and smiles, highs and cries, lows and blows. Some of the best days, some of the very worst. It has been a while since I have felt the quiet optimism I feel this week.