Emmet Moloney writes for the 'Farmers Journal' and is a former sports columnist with 'The Kerryman'.

This year, the GAA celebrates 125 years. The organisation is as important as it ever was, shaping our country and culture and nurturing our community, explains Emmet Maloney...

One hundred and twenty five years ago, a gang gathered in Hayes Hotel in Thurles and gave birth to a movement that has helped to build, nurture and maintain an entire country.
Could they have imagined such a scenario when they slipped out to the residents’ lounge after their meeting? Over a late whiskey, the one dreamer in the group might have talked out loud about getting 5,000 or 6,000 to a final of some sort. He might have been laughed at. Today, you could get 5,000 or 6,000 to a GAA funeral.

The death of a GAA stalwart is a thing to behold, because no one does a good funeral like the GAA. Guards of honour are impeccably observed; hurleys and sliotars are given as gifts to the altar during the Mass and, of course, a jersey is draped over the coffin. We put them in the ground with dignity, and it is yet another example of how the fabric of Irish life is stitched together with the GAA.

We buried a good man in Clare this week. Michael Nihill passed away. He was known as Nuggy to all and sundry, and Nuggy was a character. I suppose every county has a few like Nuggy. He lived and died for Clare hurling but, unlike most, he was prepared to do something for his county. Back in the ’70s, when it was neither popular nor common, he set up the Clare Supporters Association. This was a forerunner to the mish-mashes that exist today. In 2009, these are the groups that entice the big name manager and wave the magic wand (money) in front of his face.

In the ’70s, it was a little bit different. Back then, they were waving soup and sandwiches in players’ faces. Free gear meant socks and shorts. Maybe. Nuggy owned a pub in the Square on Ennis. Everyone knew the place, and everyone knew Nuggy. The late ’70s were good to Clare. Two league titles meant something back then, and they were enjoyed when they arrived.
The central celebration point was Nuggy’s pub, and rightly so. Believe it or not, over 10,000 people came out on the streets the Monday night Clare beat Kilkenny in the 1977 National League final. The cup was paraded, speeches were made and a poster of the winning team soon adorned every pub wall in Clare. It seems like an age ago, but it is only 30 odd years. We were so innocent then. I doubt Kilkenny stayed out past midnight when they won the league a week or two back. In Clare that April, we stayed out until May!

Father Harry said the funeral Mass. Manager of the Clare team then, he has presided over countless funerals of men from that era. This funeral was one of those rare entities – it was a celebration. Nuggy had been sick for 18 months; his death was a painless release and all of his family and friends were well prepared. Stories were told, drinks were had, and the only regret was the fact that the man himself wasn’t there. He loved a good party.

A couple of months before, the scene was something else entirely. Ger Hoey was buried in St Joseph’s Doora-Barefield, and I think that club are still numb from the shock. Ger was 42, had three young daughters and wasn’t sick a day in his life. Corner back on the 1998 St Joseph’s team that beat Rathnure of Wexford to win the All-Ireland Club title on St Patrick’s Day, Ger was immense throughout that campaign. He was a leader of men. He had just returned to live in Clare after a couple of bank postings outside the county. He was out jogging when he was taken. No one was ready for that. Only someone who has gone through such a terrible tragedy in their own life could understand what Ger’s family and friends must have felt. For thousands of people, it was a JFK moment. Where were you when you heard Ger Hoey had died?

Naturally, the GAA kicked into gear. Doora-Barefield, or The Parish as it is known, would have really benefitted from Ger Hoey’s relocation in their midst. A future chairman, without a shadow of a doubt, and a serious club man. Guards of Honour were manned, and the club naturally did the right thing. It was a comfort to the family, and something to do for the friends.

We take our association for granted now and again. We give out, and we wonder why referees are out to get us, why club matches are called off and why the local pitch isn’t available for training. But when we need them, they are there. In the serious times, the local GAA club steps up. It performs. It helps out. It delivers.

We are celebrating 125 years of the GAA. Technically, our State is only 90-odd years old (no need to send the emails – 1919? 1921? 1922? 1937? Whatever suits yourself), but the GAA is 125. And in rude health.

People worry about rugby, and with justification. It is making inroads. And good luck to them. It is a great sport, and brought huge enjoyment to the country these past few years in particular. But it’s not the GAA. Cumann Luthchleas Gael is the real deal. In the good times and the bad, it will always be with us. While rugby has been breaking down the class barriers these last few years, the GAA was busy building the monument to our games that is Croke Park.

That’s what the GAA is capable of. And it is also capable of the kindness, dignity and strength that I saw on display at Ger Hoey’s sad passing. It gave us humour and fond memories at Nuggy’s farewell. The GAA is like that. It is flexible. It is our friend in good times and sad.

This summer it will give us great days out. It will give us a lift when we need it. Escape when it is necessary. Heartbreak when we don’t deserve it! But we couldn’t do without it. God rest Ger and Nuggy, and happy birthday to the GAA.

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