THE FIRST VICTORY of the day came a little after 11am and was still on my mind when St Patrick’s Athletic captain Joe Redmond lifted the FAI Cup some six hours later.
This would be a cup final to spend with family rather than colleagues in the press box.
So it was hard to leave my five-year-old son at home and head for Lansdowne Road to meet his cousin, uncle and grandad.
Dylan is autistic.
Thomas The Tank Engine and Paw Patrol are the only shows in town.
Yesterday morning he wanted to wear green, apparently.
Now that he is verbal he was able to let us know that, so his Mam laid out a green hoodie.
By the time we went upstairs to his room he was now in ‘Gordon’ train mood.
“Blue, please.”
I chanced my arm and laid out the dark navy St Pat’s away kit.
“No, Dad. Blue, please. Gordon!”
Hearing those words alone, and in a sentence, still makes me tear up.
But I was being a bit selfish for the day that was in it. I laid out the yellow jersey that Pat’s would be wearing.
“What about yellow for Rebecca (another character)?”
“No, Dad. What about blue?”
I had another root in the drawer and pulled out the home jersey.
“What about red for James?”
“Oh, yes. Red James. He’s a really splendid engine!”
We put the jersey on together.
“Look, Dad. I’m a really splendid engine.”
I started to cry and played with him in the room before going back downstairs.
“Daddy is going to watch the football, OK. See you later.”
“Football. OK! See you later Dad.”
I gave him, his mammy Chantal, and sister Izzy a kiss and started to cry again leaving the house.
The cup final. pic.twitter.com/abAvlSTIPs
— David Sneyd (@DavidSneyd) November 12, 2023
On the way into town various WhatsApp groups were buzzing.
I looked at the selfie I took with Dylan and was smiling.
His seven-year-old cousin Alex barely looked up when I arrived to Slattery’s pub, he was still milling his butter roll in the corner.
His Dad, Daniel, was beaming.
This occasion would be a bit different than their season spent standing on the Camac together, but sure Alex is already used to watching Pat’s in FAI Cup finals at this stage.
He was there in 2021 and went last season to watch Shelbourne lose to Derry City.
The fact this would be a record attendance for a FAI Cup final, indeed any fixture between two League of Ireland sides, feels as though it’s the start of something happening on a wider scale.
But watching Alex as the day went on, as he met more of the kids he knows from going to games, it felt better because it was just the continuation of a love affair that has taken hold over the last few years.
He is the reason Daniel is getting tickets for UCD at home on a Monday night and making sure he can finish work on time.
He is the reason both of his grandads – Dan’s father Niall and my own, Derek – were there too.
My own Dad stopped going to Richmond Park regularly after his father passed away. I didn’t.
On Sunday I also thought of Grandad Liam. Sitting in McDowells drinking a Coke and eating crisps but always making sure I was in my seat just below where I now work from the press box to watch Trevor Molloy do tricks in the warm up.
For Molloy in 1999, see Chris Forrester now.
Or “Git” as Alex only refers to him. They are neighbours in Lucan too, so Alex will stop Git for a chat in the shop or when he’s playing football on the green.
He will still buzz off watching Mbappe on YouTube or seeing the Premier League on telly but seeing Git in the flesh has a hold like you wouldn’t believe.
So, too, does singing songs with language his mother, Aisling, would not approve of.
Bohs and Pat’s fans mixed without any bother, in the pub and around Bath Avenue. Even inside the ground, too.
There were Finn Harps, Bray Wanderers and, whisper it, even some rogue Shels and Shamrock Rovers heads knocking about.
But yesterday belonged to Pat’s and so many of our families.
I was home to mine at 7.30pm on the dot. I think it was around that time in the morning when I landed through the door in 2014. Different times, but better now.
“Daddy, you’re home,” Dylan said, waiting at the top of the stairs with his mammy.
“So good to see you.”