WE KNEW IF it ever happened, it would be incredible.
But this?
The last time we looked, The Sunday Game Tweet of the closing moments had been watched over 20 million times.
The American soccer account, ‘Men in Blazers’ also amplified the same clip, getting over 1.1 million views so far.
People from across the planet are seeing Gaelic football for the very first time. Without doing anything at all, the GAA are enjoying one of their biggest brand awareness campaigns ever and it’s going deep.
The respected rugby writer for The Times, Charlie Morgan, quote-tweeted a clip of Radio Kerry’s Tim Moynihan and Ambrose O’Donovan graciously handing all the credit to Mayo at the final whistle before turning round to congratulate Midwest Radio’s commentary team of Stephen Grealish and Martin Carney who are in a state of ecstasy.
‘Can’t remember a single game of any sport delivering this amount of wholesome content. This is magic, too’, Morgan wrote.
Can’t remember a single game of any sport delivering this amount of wholesome content. This is magic, too: https://t.co/TVh1mckUFP
Domestically, there’s all the Mayo you could ever want to see in your life. It’s been the bellows that has breathed life into this Irish summer.
The question is not so much if this is the most popular All-Ireland winning story, but can you think of one that even comes close?
Why has it meant so much? The answer is to our imagination, it fits every narrative possible.
Christopher Booker’s ‘The Seven Basic Plots: Why We Tell Stories’, took 34 years to write.
It is a Jungian exploration of the basic frameworks within stories that appeal to the collective human experience. If that sounds a bit high-falutin’, just see it as seven types of stories that hit us in the funny bone, the gut or the heart.
The 2026 season for Mayo magically managed to tick all the boxes:
Overcoming The Monster
Depending on your cinema tastes, this is the device used for Bond films, King Kong, Jaws, Tombstone, take your pick.
For Mayo, the Monster could have several representations depending on how deep you want to excavate your soul.
An obvious one is to see the Monster as Kerry. An All-Ireland win for Mayo having not faced Dublin or Kerry just wouldn’t have felt the same.
Or is the Monster the 75-year gap? Or even, gulp, their own fear of winning? There is plenty of room for metaphor here.
Rags to Riches
Can you imagine how Andy Moran felt heading to his bed the night he, as Leitrim manager, lost on penalties to New York in the 2023 Connacht Championship?
Can you imagine how he felt when he walked into the Mayo dressing room with Sam Maguire on the table?
This is the GAA’s Cinderella story.
Advertisement
Andy Moran and Jack Coyne in Castlebar. Tom Maher / INPHO
Tom Maher / INPHO / INPHO
The Quest
75 years have brought 11 losses and defeats ranging from humdrum to monumental. Sure, The Road had its grim moments, but did yer man ever have to face into a 6am January gym session in Castlebar with the heating knackered?
Voyage and Return
Mayo is a county that exports its people. Always has been.
Sending young people away to be broken by hard work and loneliness means the diaspora of the county runs into the millions upon millions.
On Sunday, they all came home: Biden, Carney, Liam and Noel, Killer Kilbane.
Son of Mayo, Kevin Kilbane. James Crombie / INPHO
James Crombie / INPHO / INPHO
Comedy
In a ‘had to laugh or else you’d cry’, Mayo’s All-Ireland final defeats were full of moments that are virtual slapstick: Colm Coyle’s shot bouncing and clearing Peter Burke’s crossbar in 1996, the two own-goals, the GPS device not quite putting off Dean Rock . . .
Tragedy
Do we really even need to go into it?
Rebirth
See above. A county derided and labelled as ‘Celebrity Losers’, now are All-Ireland champions.
**
All of this explains the universality of the story.
The key ingredient, that gives it all a mass appeal, is the notion of a Curse.
Those that cover Gaelic games are inclined to roll their eyes at the mention of a ‘curse’. When you break games down to their constituent parts, most defeats can be explained through a handful of metrics: our forwards were too small, we lost our free taker in the warm-up, a goalkeeping howler. And so on.
As the hook to a story, though, it is gold dust. Think of the basic plot here: a triumphant team arriving to a welcome befitting of the newest heroes. An intervention by a priest, a corpse, some friction, words exchanged. Pride getting in everyone’s way.
And then, the otherworldly. A curse. It’s Shakespearean.
In the build-up to the final, it was something that few media outlets could resist. Even the most self-regarding titles had explainer pieces, in print or to camera.
The reason is this stuff Does Good Numbers.
James Crombie / INPHO
James Crombie / INPHO / INPHO
In this country, we could surprise ourselves if we could ever measure the level of belief in the occult.
It’s always been particularly strong in the West of Ireland, superbly documented by Lady Gregory’s ‘Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland,’ first published in 1920.
Related Reads
In pics: Mayo bring Sam Maguire home to Castlebar after 75-year wait
Six key moments that powered Mayo's rallying surge to All-Ireland glory
'A whirlwind' - Kobe's year of Mayo All-Ireland glory, the Leaving Cert and AFL future
In her attempt to capture what became known as ‘The Celtic Twilight’, she traipsed the countryside of Connacht, sometimes with WB Yeats alongside her and noted the recollections of the elders.
The book is in my possession with a library ticket from the school my father taught, borrowed in October 1985. He’ll have to live with that guilt.
It details superstitions, Sheoguey Beasts, The Unquiet Dead, Banshees and healers such as Biddy Early, along with the restorative properties of herbs and charms.
These beliefs may predate The Enlightenment. But on an island on the very western fringe of Europe, subject to subjugation and controlled, they remained deep in the core.
That’s why some of us still go for ‘The Cure’ when babies develop colic. Why farmers bring an apple tart to a lady who can stop their cattle bleeding. Many intercounty footballers and hurlers will get along to Seán Boylan to trust his faith in herbs and take his concoctions without stopping to ask if it’s gluten-free.
This takes humility and it takes complete innocence. The kind of innocence with which Mayo are enjoying their new status of All-Ireland champions.
Seamus Heaney’s ‘The Cure At Troy,’ invites us to strip away all known wisdom and surrender to optimism. The closing stanzas include this majesty:
History says, don’t hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that further shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracle
And cures and healing wells.
What we didn’t fully appreciate, is the rest of the world is so keen to believe in this as much as we are.
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
Close
Comments
This is YOUR comments community. Stay civil, stay constructive, stay on topic.
Please familiarise yourself with our comments policy
here
before taking part.
Going worldwide: Why does the Mayo football story mean so much to so many?
WE KNEW IF it ever happened, it would be incredible.
But this?
The last time we looked, The Sunday Game Tweet of the closing moments had been watched over 20 million times.
The American soccer account, ‘Men in Blazers’ also amplified the same clip, getting over 1.1 million views so far.
People from across the planet are seeing Gaelic football for the very first time. Without doing anything at all, the GAA are enjoying one of their biggest brand awareness campaigns ever and it’s going deep.
The respected rugby writer for The Times, Charlie Morgan, quote-tweeted a clip of Radio Kerry’s Tim Moynihan and Ambrose O’Donovan graciously handing all the credit to Mayo at the final whistle before turning round to congratulate Midwest Radio’s commentary team of Stephen Grealish and Martin Carney who are in a state of ecstasy.
‘Can’t remember a single game of any sport delivering this amount of wholesome content. This is magic, too’, Morgan wrote.
Domestically, there’s all the Mayo you could ever want to see in your life. It’s been the bellows that has breathed life into this Irish summer.
The question is not so much if this is the most popular All-Ireland winning story, but can you think of one that even comes close?
Why has it meant so much? The answer is to our imagination, it fits every narrative possible.
Christopher Booker’s ‘The Seven Basic Plots: Why We Tell Stories’, took 34 years to write.
It is a Jungian exploration of the basic frameworks within stories that appeal to the collective human experience. If that sounds a bit high-falutin’, just see it as seven types of stories that hit us in the funny bone, the gut or the heart.
The 2026 season for Mayo magically managed to tick all the boxes:
Overcoming The Monster
Depending on your cinema tastes, this is the device used for Bond films, King Kong, Jaws, Tombstone, take your pick.
For Mayo, the Monster could have several representations depending on how deep you want to excavate your soul.
An obvious one is to see the Monster as Kerry. An All-Ireland win for Mayo having not faced Dublin or Kerry just wouldn’t have felt the same.
Or is the Monster the 75-year gap? Or even, gulp, their own fear of winning? There is plenty of room for metaphor here.
Rags to Riches
Can you imagine how Andy Moran felt heading to his bed the night he, as Leitrim manager, lost on penalties to New York in the 2023 Connacht Championship?
Can you imagine how he felt when he walked into the Mayo dressing room with Sam Maguire on the table?
This is the GAA’s Cinderella story.
The Quest
75 years have brought 11 losses and defeats ranging from humdrum to monumental. Sure, The Road had its grim moments, but did yer man ever have to face into a 6am January gym session in Castlebar with the heating knackered?
Voyage and Return
Mayo is a county that exports its people. Always has been.
Sending young people away to be broken by hard work and loneliness means the diaspora of the county runs into the millions upon millions.
On Sunday, they all came home: Biden, Carney, Liam and Noel, Killer Kilbane.
Comedy
In a ‘had to laugh or else you’d cry’, Mayo’s All-Ireland final defeats were full of moments that are virtual slapstick: Colm Coyle’s shot bouncing and clearing Peter Burke’s crossbar in 1996, the two own-goals, the GPS device not quite putting off Dean Rock . . .
Tragedy
Do we really even need to go into it?
Rebirth
See above. A county derided and labelled as ‘Celebrity Losers’, now are All-Ireland champions.
**
All of this explains the universality of the story.
The key ingredient, that gives it all a mass appeal, is the notion of a Curse.
Those that cover Gaelic games are inclined to roll their eyes at the mention of a ‘curse’. When you break games down to their constituent parts, most defeats can be explained through a handful of metrics: our forwards were too small, we lost our free taker in the warm-up, a goalkeeping howler. And so on.
As the hook to a story, though, it is gold dust. Think of the basic plot here: a triumphant team arriving to a welcome befitting of the newest heroes. An intervention by a priest, a corpse, some friction, words exchanged. Pride getting in everyone’s way.
And then, the otherworldly. A curse. It’s Shakespearean.
In the build-up to the final, it was something that few media outlets could resist. Even the most self-regarding titles had explainer pieces, in print or to camera.
The reason is this stuff Does Good Numbers.
In this country, we could surprise ourselves if we could ever measure the level of belief in the occult.
It’s always been particularly strong in the West of Ireland, superbly documented by Lady Gregory’s ‘Visions and Beliefs in the West of Ireland,’ first published in 1920.
In her attempt to capture what became known as ‘The Celtic Twilight’, she traipsed the countryside of Connacht, sometimes with WB Yeats alongside her and noted the recollections of the elders.
The book is in my possession with a library ticket from the school my father taught, borrowed in October 1985. He’ll have to live with that guilt.
It details superstitions, Sheoguey Beasts, The Unquiet Dead, Banshees and healers such as Biddy Early, along with the restorative properties of herbs and charms.
These beliefs may predate The Enlightenment. But on an island on the very western fringe of Europe, subject to subjugation and controlled, they remained deep in the core.
That’s why some of us still go for ‘The Cure’ when babies develop colic. Why farmers bring an apple tart to a lady who can stop their cattle bleeding. Many intercounty footballers and hurlers will get along to Seán Boylan to trust his faith in herbs and take his concoctions without stopping to ask if it’s gluten-free.
This takes humility and it takes complete innocence. The kind of innocence with which Mayo are enjoying their new status of All-Ireland champions.
Seamus Heaney’s ‘The Cure At Troy,’ invites us to strip away all known wisdom and surrender to optimism. The closing stanzas include this majesty:
History says, don’t hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that further shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracle
And cures and healing wells.
What we didn’t fully appreciate, is the rest of the world is so keen to believe in this as much as we are.
How else can this magic be explained?
**
Check out the latest episode of The 42′s GAA Weekly podcast here
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
GAA Gaelic Football RED AND GREEN WORLD