TRAGEDY PUTS SPORT IN ITS TRUE CONTEXT
Tragedy puts sport in its true context
ON October 23 1993 my life belonged in the hands of strangers.
I was among a party of Donegal Celtic footballers playing in a junior cup competition in Ballymena.
With just minutes remaining in the game we trailed 1-0 as members of the RUC filed alongside the pitch in a fashion which told us something was wrong.
Around 400 people attended the game.
For the RUC and our sideline officials, a 30 minute period of anguish and fear ruled their minds. We had scored to earn extra-time and eventually a penalty shoot-out.
While on the pitch, we did not know an IRA bomb had killed 10 people on the Shankill Road.
Like trapped rabbits we grappled for clothes and belongings and were saved by a heavy police presence at the game.
In the days and weeks which followed that black day in Irish history, football, sport and even conversation related to such, was of no value.
Local leagues postponed all games. There was an air of guilt surrounding the club simply because we were able to train. To continue to prepare for the next game whenever it would take place.
I lost a close friend in 1991, a victim of terrorism, buried on Christmas Eve.
Sport then, although unimportant, provided an immediate escape from the torment and pain felt in the absence of a dear friend and team-mate. It was through the game which we, players of Belfast United, could honour the memory of a lost mate.
This week we all watched closely at how the Omagh bombing took its toll on all walk of life.
Often I would like to ask Bill Shankly just how he would view the importance of football in the aftermath of the massacres on the Shankill Road, at Greysteel, at Loughinisland, at Enniskillen and at Omagh.
This column often challenges the administration of the Irish Football Association and the Irish Football League.
This week the two governing bodies of the game deserve immense credit for the postponing of an international fixture and the acknowledgement of the atrocity in domestic arenas.
Rarely has the IFA got involved and taken such a stance when the troubles of this seemingly God forsaken place rule our days.
Where the GAA has failed this week, people in soccer offices have shown a great deal of sympathy and respect to the people of Omagh.
Today soccer people on the terraces have been handed an opportunity greater than any other to rid the local game of sectarianism.
Catholics and Protestants, Irish and Spanish were killed by the same bomb. It did not discriminate.
Religion does not differ people's grief.
For too many years the terraces have been a provision for the expression of hate in Northern Ireland.
The rot can be stopped and everyone associated with the game, no matter how small that association may be, has his or her own part to play. Now that we know we can be united in grief and united in wanting to support and help the people of Omagh, the time has arrived that such understanding must be applied to all walks of life.
ON October 23 1993 my life belonged in the hands of strangers.
I was among a party of Donegal Celtic footballers playing in a junior cup competition in Ballymena.
With just minutes remaining in the game we trailed 1-0 as members of the RUC filed alongside the pitch in a fashion which told us something was wrong.
Around 400 people attended the game.
For the RUC and our sideline officials, a 30 minute period of anguish and fear ruled their minds. We had scored to earn extra-time and eventually a penalty shoot-out.
While on the pitch, we did not know an IRA bomb had killed 10 people on the Shankill Road.
Like trapped rabbits we grappled for clothes and belongings and were saved by a heavy police presence at the game.
In the days and weeks which followed that black day in Irish history, football, sport and even conversation related to such, was of no value.
Local leagues postponed all games. There was an air of guilt surrounding the club simply because we were able to train. To continue to prepare for the next game whenever it would take place.
I lost a close friend in 1991, a victim of terrorism, buried on Christmas Eve.
Sport then, although unimportant, provided an immediate escape from the torment and pain felt in the absence of a dear friend and team-mate. It was through the game which we, players of Belfast United, could honour the memory of a lost mate.
This week we all watched closely at how the Omagh bombing took its toll on all walk of life.
Often I would like to ask Bill Shankly just how he would view the importance of football in the aftermath of the massacres on the Shankill Road, at Greysteel, at Loughinisland, at Enniskillen and at Omagh.
This column often challenges the administration of the Irish Football Association and the Irish Football League.
This week the two governing bodies of the game deserve immense credit for the postponing of an international fixture and the acknowledgement of the atrocity in domestic arenas.
Rarely has the IFA got involved and taken such a stance when the troubles of this seemingly God forsaken place rule our days.
Where the GAA has failed this week, people in soccer offices have shown a great deal of sympathy and respect to the people of Omagh.
Today soccer people on the terraces have been handed an opportunity greater than any other to rid the local game of sectarianism.
Catholics and Protestants, Irish and Spanish were killed by the same bomb. It did not discriminate.
Religion does not differ people's grief.
For too many years the terraces have been a provision for the expression of hate in Northern Ireland.
The rot can be stopped and everyone associated with the game, no matter how small that association may be, has his or her own part to play. Now that we know we can be united in grief and united in wanting to support and help the people of Omagh, the time has arrived that such understanding must be applied to all walks of life.
Further Information
Publisher: THE IRISH NEWS
Ref: IN/0164
Published Date: 21-Aug-98
Related Images
There have been no images archived for this article.