The royal party went up to the Hogan Stand, named after the Tipperary hurler murdered on the first Bloody Sunday, writes MIRIAM LORD
THE QUEEN came to Croker and we feared for Her Majesty’s safety.
A petite 85-year-old woman walking through the Croke Park players’ tunnel in the company of legendary Kerry hard man Jimmy Deenihan. With five All-Ireland medals under his belt, he isn’t afraid of a ring of steel.
It may be 30 years since Jimmy, now a Government Minister, last made that adrenalin-fuelled journey from dressing room to pitch, but they say the feeling never leaves you. As he made his way towards the beckoning light with the Queen of England walking a few stately paces ahead, anything could have happened.
Luckily, Minister of State Michael Ring was also present.
“I said to him, I said ‘Now Jimmy, don’t get yourself worked up. Hold back! You’re not playing this time’.” With the royal visit going so well, the last thing anyone wanted to see was defender Deenihan bursting from the tunnel in a whirl of flying hats and bunny hops. But he contained himself and became part of yet another historic occasion on the Croke Park turf.
Above in the Hogan Stand, the great and the good of the Gaelic Athletic Association gathered. When they looked down, they saw Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip and ladies in waiting taking up position on the sideline.
And when they looked up, they might have expected to see pigs flying in squadron formation over Jones Road. But this wasn’t make-believe.
Mrs Windsor, with these historic moments, you really are spoiling us. The symbolism. Oh, the symbolism. Who could have imagined so much of it could be crammed into such a short space of time. It was all so relaxed and easy you could have been fooled into thinking that it was just another glitzy corporate reception on the second level of the hallowed stand. Yet it was the Queen of England in the cradle of the GAA, an honoured guest at the happiest of occasions when the talk was of reconciliation and the unifying balm of sport.
As GAA president Christy Cooney pointed out to Her Majesty, the movement “constantly embodied the mood of the nation: culturally, socially and politically.” And for many fraught and fractious decades, that mood was very much set against an English monarch.
But here was one, stepping into the light, shoulder to shoulder with the President of Ireland as the Artane Band played and the ghosts of Hill 16 breathed silent benediction. The Queen, seated near the dugout, turned to watch a short video on the history of the GAA. She faced into Hill 16, where 14 people were murdered by Crown forces in 1920.
Then the royal party went up to the Hogan Stand, named after one of the Tipperary hurlers murdered on that day which became the first Bloody Sunday.
There was little mention of that tortured history – no real need, as Her Majesty’s presence, and her actions over the previous 24 hours, spoke for her. It was a joyous occasion, the welcome warm and sincere.
When the visitors emerged from the lift, they saw young Irish set dancers clattering the floor with infectious brio. The Queen burst into a big smile.
With Mary McAleese by her side – this visit has been a triumph for her – the Queen made her way down the line of GAA officials and club members. Former president Nicky Brennan of Kilkenny, clasped Her Majesty warmly by the elbow. In seconds the royal security had pounced and firmly removed the hurler’s hand from the monarch’s arm.
Even before the Queen arrived in the room, The Irish Times got carried away by the occasion and committed an illegal laying on of hands. With the collusion of former GAA president, MEP Sean Kelly, this reporter fondled the Sam Maguire cup, which was resting on a table with the Liam McCarthy cup and a large board from the GAA museum holding the medals won by the late Jack Lynch. Giddy with symbolism, The Irish Times punched the air and cried “Up the Dubs!” belting Jack’s medals in the process and sending the entire collection clattering to the floor.
As the Queen exited the pitch, a dozen officials were on their hands and knees retrieving them.
But it was that sort of day.
“There’s Willum Hague!” exclaimed a man from Cork as the British foreign secretary ambled past. One woman made an effort and wore a fancy hat.
Then someone told us the Queen had brought her dresser to Ireland, which certainly trumped all those stories that she never travels anywhere without the royal toilet seat.
Where is it? In Farmleigh? No. The Queen’s dresser was the woman wearing the hat.
Prince Philip was given a hurley and a sliotar. He seemed chuffed.
But not as chuffed as Minister Ring, who was introduced on RTÉ television as “Christy Ring”. Meanwhile, Jimmy Deenihan said it was a great honour to be with the Queen in Croker.
But which was the best – this watershed moment in history or winning five all-Ireland’s for Kerry? “There’s no comparison there. Lifting the Sam Maguire would have been bigger for me than anything, and that would include Obama.”
When word reached us that Meath player Joe Sheridan had met the Queen in the dressing room, the jokes began to fly. The Royal county’s Sheridan was the man who “fell” across the goal-line in the Leinster final, depriving Louth of the title.
A statement was issued by an anonymous spokesperson.
“For those of us who love the GAA, today is a step too far. At the site of the single greatest injustice in our history, to invite those responsible back to the scene of the crime is galling. Some will say it is time for neighbours to forget the past, but the sight of the royals out on that pitch, surrounded by gardaí, will only open old wounds.
It was never an effin’ goal and Louth won Leinster fair and square!” One out of two atrocities atoned for in the one day.
That’s not bad.