Clontarf win the All Ireland League

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I have always been a sucker for a good redemption story. You know how the plot runs; land finally sighted as the ship struggles in the storm; a gallows reprieve just as hemp touches skin; the lost child found as the pit of parental despair yawns to its widest.

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There is a theatrical device used in Greek tragedy called “deus ex machina”. It means God from the machine and was used as a device to overrule and change a tragic plot line. At the highest point of tragedy in the play when everyone is about to commit suicide or something, God would literally be winched down in a basket from above the stage. And because he’s God, he would overrule the tragic plot and restore everyone to happiness. Needless to say it is rarely used in modern drama although its influence can be seen in children’s stories in the guise of the fairy godmother etc. Etc.
It is an understatement to say that Clontarf benefited from a sporting “Deus ex machina” at the weekend. I have never experienced anguish like that visited on Clontarf over the past three weeks. The old club was convulsed with grief after the victory over Old Belvedere, and the momentum gained was lost horribly to two defeats on the trot to UCD and Lansdowne. Sitting in second place, two points behind leaders Old B with one to play Clontarf needed to dig deep to drag a performance out of battered bodies knowing that even a victory in Castle Avenue would probably not be enough to win the race to the title.

Old Belvedere were travelling to Dooradoyle with the momentum and the prospect of a run out against an already relegated Garryowen. Victory in Limerick would send the title to Anglesea Rd for the second time in four years.

What unfolded on sunny Saturday was historic and serves to confirm that the AIL is a stunningly difficult competition to win in its current format. An eighteen game straight run to the line is the most logical league structure. It is also incredibly difficult and cruel. Personally, the losses against UCD and Lansdowne were like losing a limb. Preparing to come to Castle Avenue on Saturday felt like dressing for a funeral . . . my own.
However as the day unfolded it became clear that something special was happening. Firstly Clontarf had got their defensive mojo back and even when Ballynahinch pulled the game back to 13 all it never looked like the home side were going to lose. The introduction of Peter du Toit for the last 20 minutes added mesmeric pace and tempo to the home game which had the visitors flapping and ultimately succumbing to two scores from the sub scrum half.
All the while the tic tac from Limerick was that Garryowen had dipped into the famous pool of Munster defiance and had Old B looking frantically for answers. In the end they couldn’t find any and as their stars under-performed under stress their luck ran out. Clontarf finished 27 – 13 victors and, with the game in Limerick still on, had to wait on the pitch with their supporters in silent prayer for the result. It was a remarkable scene; absolute silence for four minutes followed by a frenzy of emotion as the news flowed like a wave across the club.
Victory for Garryowen, Victory for Clontarf, Clontarf Champions!!! . . . At last! History was made and grown men cried and laughed at the same time . . . And damn right too! This has been a long journey, with many turns and challenges along the way.

For me, the lasting memory will not be the final historic victory and the resulting celebration, but the sudden, brilliant, closing of ranks and reaffirmation of commitment from the key personalities in the Club when the results went wrong late in the campaign and it looked like we could be pipped at the post for the title. I found that bloody minded commitment to be both comforting and inspiring at the same time. There’s no doubt about it, as Winston Churchill said “When you are going through hell, keep going . . .”
In conclusion, I have no idea how many rugby clubs there are in Ireland. I do know that, after this weekend, they all wish they were Clontarf.

Peter Walsh