I WAS LUCKY to cover Ireland’s heroic performance against world champions Germany. Sadly, it was from the office and not Schalke 04′s Veltins-Arena.
Having weathered the storm for 71 minutes, the Boys in Green gave a player of Toni Kroos’s quality far too much room on the edge of the box and were duly punished. As the clock struck 90, it appeared that Martin O’Neill was about to be handed his first competitive defeat in international football.
With the final seconds ticking down, in comes Wes Hoolahan’s cross. It’s well over-hit, however, and looks a wasted opportunity. That’s until Jeff Hendrick somehow manages to watch the ball sail over his head before swivelling to direct it back into the danger zone.
John O’Shea, earning his 100th cap and wearing the captain’s armband, gets the better of Mats Hummels with the deftest of touches and the away section erupts.
Love you, Sheasy.
Sean Farrell
Dan Sheridan / INPHO
Dan Sheridan / INPHO / INPHO
I’ve watched Ireland face off against New Zealand in rugby too often to store up much optimism. So watching from the safety of the office, I watched disbelieving as Ireland systematically took apart the supposedly unbeatable Black Ferns during the summer Women’s Rugby World Cup.
I believe ‘not a hope’ were the words I chose before kick-off and after Heather O’Brien’s try put Ireland within a point at half-time, old curmudgeon here just considered it a plucky first-half display before an inevitable doom.
I wish I hadn’t been in an air conditioned office. If only I’d been sitting on a sunny slope in Paris watching women who didn’t believe in the word impossible go about their business.
Those conditions wouldn’t have allowed for pessimism, only some nerves before Niamh Briggs sent Alison Miller racing for the left corner.
Sinead O’Carroll
Darron Cummings
Darron Cummings
It’s not the most watched sport in Ireland but figure skating is known the world over for its characters, drama and controversy – and this year’s Winter Olympics did not disappoint on any of those fronts.
The ladies have suffered over the past few years, playing second fiddle to fantastic competitions in the men’s and dance categories. Even the traditionally lesser-supported pairs have become more competitive.
But, in Sochi, it was the women that got the newspaper columns and brought new viewers to the sport. First, we had the teenage sensation, Yulia Lipnitskaya, light up the team event and dazzle in the Short Programme. But, unexpectedly, she fell at the final hurdle, leaving room for the more experienced to have their day.
Her teammate, Adelina Sotnikova, took the gold – a shock for all those watching, no more so than Kim Yuna, the favourite who skated beautifully. The aftermath of the competition saw petitions from an appalled South Korea whose population wanted the gold back in Yuna’s hands. It also spawned countless explainers about why Sotnikova, in fact, did earn the top podium position
My favourite moment though — and why I wish I was there — was the tear-jerking achievements of Italian athlete Carolina Kostner. She was the face of Turin 2006 (and I mean The Face with capital letters — think Jessica Ennis in 2012) and it all went terribly wrong. Unlike Ennis, she fell, she tripped, she fumbled and placed just ninth. Her nerves never fully recovered, despite winning European and World championships.
I was even nervous for her when she took to the ice. I don’t know her, I’ve never met her, hell, I’ve never even seen her live. But, it seems, I became emotionally attached to this ice princess from Italy whose father had built her a rink once her talent became apparent.
I didn’t believe she could do it but coming off the ice after skating to Ave Maria in her short programme, you could hear her coach ask her: “Now do you believe in yourself? Now do you believe?”
She kept it together and took the bronze medal and later said a circle had been complete. There was nothing missing in her career or life now. Beautiful.
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Ryan Bailey
Peter Morrison
Peter Morrison
Gleneagles, the first tee – 26 September
Never has the game of golf been witness to such theatre. Never has such theatre transpired on a golf course. For the other 360 days of the year, the sport is played to a backdrop of deferential silence and a smattering of well mannered applause by the appreciative galleries. However, the Ryder Cup is different. As Justin Rose remarked “This is the closest golfer gets to experiencing what it’s like to be a Premier League footballer.”
A temporary stand — accommodating no more than 3,000 spectators — transformed the first tee of Gleneagles’ Centenary Course into a sporting Colosseum where gladiators prepared for battle. Before the sun had even risen above the Perthshire hills, there were thousands encompassing the first tee and fairway, roaring, singing and chanting the name of each player who dared emerge from the tunnel that connected the driving range to the bear-pit.
“Europe! Europe!” echoed around Gleneagles as Paul McGinley appeared from the sanctuary of the clubhouse. There was more to follow. A fleeting chorus of “USA, USA” was countered by “Ole, ole, ole” and an array of songs to include the names of those in European blue. Justin Rose was first up, greeted by a rendition of Spandau Ballet’s Gold.
Then, there was the deathly silence (unless Bubba was involved). It mattered little that it was 6am because for this one weekend, for this one morning, the circus had rolled into town and golf was the main act.
Eoin O’Callaghan
Martin Rickett
Martin Rickett
Anfield, 15 April 2014
The silence, perhaps, said it all. A vast emptiness quickly engulfed a football stadium, just as it had done 25 years before. And just like on that day, thousands of pairs of eyes glazed over and tears ran free.
Later, the eerie quiet was punctuated not by the shrillness of ambulances but by the solemn sound of bells. At 15.06, they began to ring. 96 times they chimed and with each one, memories flooded back to those who had gathered. They remembered their sons, their daughters, their brothers, their sisters, their parents. They remembered their own pain and suffering and heartache. They remembered the 96.
Everything took on added significance. The sea of red scarves, You’ll Never Walk Alone. But this wasn’t a celebration but a reflection on lives lost. And a reflection too on unity, on support, on togetherness.
Fintan O’Toole
EMPICS Sport
EMPICS Sport
The high point of the World Cup was the concluding stages of the last 16. Germany v Algeria on Monday 30 June was great fun but Belgium against USA the following night was even better.
There were no goals in the first 90 minutes, largely due to a phenomenal goalkeeping show by Tim Howard that repelled Belgium, yet it was still brilliant to watch. Extra-time hurtled along with Belgium seemingly putting the game to bed when Kevin De Bruyne and Romelu Lukaku scored.
But the US powered back with a Julian Green goal and laid siege to the Belgian goal. Their ridiculously elaborate free-kick routine late on nearly sent the game to penalties.
The World Cup always throws up a random game that grabs your attention and this was it for me. The atmosphere looked brilliant and it seemed a seminal moment for US soccer with the interest the game generated.
Why would anyone want to go to a dead rubber between two relegated sides on the final day of the league? That’s what I told myself as I sat at home on 6 April this year as Kildare hosted Westmeath in a nothing game in Newbridge.
However, little was I – or anyone for that matter – to realise that when he came on to replace goalscorer Cathal McNally, it would be the final time anyone saw the great Johnny Doyle in a Kildare jersey.
Just after the game, Doyle hung up his prolific shooting boots on an inter-county career that spanned 14 years and nearly 60 games. That he didn’t win an All-Ireland is a shame but it is just about all he didn’t singlehandedly bring home to Kildare.
Ruaidhri Croke
Chris Carlson
Chris Carlson
Augusta National Golf Club, Sunday 13 April
Although this year’s Masters won’t go down in the history books as one of the best in terms of drama, it was still a superb spectacle. It doesn’t matter what happens in that April week each year, The Masters is still the highlight of the golfing season. The theatre of watching the world’s best battle it out on the most glorious stage imaginable is truly breathtaking.
Sunday’s events this year were special, however. Seeing a golfer as unconventional as Bubba Watson tame a golf course as traditional as Augusta National is a sight to behold. Bubba doesn’t play golf as golf should be played. He contorts both his body and the ball into unnatural positions and uses a pink-shafted driver, he comes from the tiny Florida town of Bagdad, but he has twice turned up at the Mecca of golf and beaten the factory-crafted ‘conventional’ golfers.
Bubba shows that you don’t always have to stick to the textbook.
Paul Fennessy
Dan Sheridan / INPHO
Dan Sheridan / INPHO / INPHO
Ireland 26-23 Australia, Aviva Stadium — 22 November
The Six Nations triumph may have been more important, and the South Africa defeat was undoubtedly more impressive, but for sheer excitement and drama Ireland’s 26-23 win over Australia was hard to beat.
While the success in Paris will be looked back upon more fondly in time, there is something uniquely special about a big win on home soil, particularly in an atmosphere as deafening the Aviva Stadium tends to be on memorable sporting occasions.
Home fans went through just about every emotion that day, from the ecstasy of seeing Ireland go 17-0 up to despair upon witnessing the Aussies level the score before half-time.
Ultimately, it will be remembered as a match that was won by grit and determination rather than ingenious moments of skill, and Paul O’Connell’s huge hit on Ben McCalman towards the end summed up the hosts’ defiance as their opponents searched in vain for points late on.
The win, which capped an incredible year for the Irish rugby team, may not quite have made up for the New Zealand disappointment the previous year but it at least showed Ireland were no longer as prone to self-destruction late on against world-class opposition. Roll on World Cup 2015!
When bilocation becomes a scientific possibility, nobody will ever be asked to choose between two sporting events on opposite sides of the country on the same day.
On this occasion, the deck was stacked — I only live a stone’s thrown away from Croke Park, and I’d been given a ticket as a gift, but even still there was great temptation to choose the Gaelic Grounds over Jones’ Road and travel down to Limerick with a neutral’s curious eye for the All-Ireland SFC semi-final replay between Kerry and Mayo. In the back of my mind, I quietly considered it a chance to get a first-hand look at Dublin’s final opponents … but the less said about that the better.
Instead I took my place in the Hogan Stand for the Croke Park Classic between Penn State and the UCF Knights, a game that chugged along without much excitement until it exploded into life in a dramatic finale. It finished around 4.45pm, just enough time to get back to the local hostelry and take my seat. As I watched the football game of the summer unfold — Cillian O’Connor and James O’Donoghue shooting the lights out at either end, Rob Hennelly’s late free that dropped just short, the almighty schemozzle at the death, the same old agonising story for Mayo — I couldn’t help but wish that I’d chosen the longer trip that afternoon.
Will Slattery
Bath 28-6 Harlequins – 29 November 2014
PA Wire / Press Association Images
PA Wire / Press Association Images / Press Association Images
In years to come, we will look back at this night at the Recreaction Ground as a transformative moment in the history of rugby union. The only comparison that can adequately describe the seismic introduction of Slammin’ Sam Burgess to the sport for the first time is when the audience first catches a glimpse of Arnold Schwarzeneger in The Terminator.
If the inventors of rugby league and union had a baby, and that baby was best mates with Russell Crowe too, it would still only be half as promising as Burgess. The man oozes toughness but also has a magician’s sleight of hand when it comes to offloading the ball.
We only saw flashes of the Bath Basher’s prodigious talent that night at the Rec, but when he annihilates Sonny Bill Williams – AGAIN – at the 2015 Rugby World Cup, it will make me wish I was there on 29 November to witness an evolutionary step forward in the history of the rugby.
Sheasy's heroics, beating New Zealand & a legend's final act - I wish I was there in 2014
Ben Blake
I WAS LUCKY to cover Ireland’s heroic performance against world champions Germany. Sadly, it was from the office and not Schalke 04′s Veltins-Arena.
Having weathered the storm for 71 minutes, the Boys in Green gave a player of Toni Kroos’s quality far too much room on the edge of the box and were duly punished. As the clock struck 90, it appeared that Martin O’Neill was about to be handed his first competitive defeat in international football.
With the final seconds ticking down, in comes Wes Hoolahan’s cross. It’s well over-hit, however, and looks a wasted opportunity. That’s until Jeff Hendrick somehow manages to watch the ball sail over his head before swivelling to direct it back into the danger zone.
John O’Shea, earning his 100th cap and wearing the captain’s armband, gets the better of Mats Hummels with the deftest of touches and the away section erupts.
Love you, Sheasy.
Sean Farrell
I’ve watched Ireland face off against New Zealand in rugby too often to store up much optimism. So watching from the safety of the office, I watched disbelieving as Ireland systematically took apart the supposedly unbeatable Black Ferns during the summer Women’s Rugby World Cup.
I believe ‘not a hope’ were the words I chose before kick-off and after Heather O’Brien’s try put Ireland within a point at half-time, old curmudgeon here just considered it a plucky first-half display before an inevitable doom.
I wish I hadn’t been in an air conditioned office. If only I’d been sitting on a sunny slope in Paris watching women who didn’t believe in the word impossible go about their business.
Those conditions wouldn’t have allowed for pessimism, only some nerves before Niamh Briggs sent Alison Miller racing for the left corner.
Sinead O’Carroll
It’s not the most watched sport in Ireland but figure skating is known the world over for its characters, drama and controversy – and this year’s Winter Olympics did not disappoint on any of those fronts.
The ladies have suffered over the past few years, playing second fiddle to fantastic competitions in the men’s and dance categories. Even the traditionally lesser-supported pairs have become more competitive.
But, in Sochi, it was the women that got the newspaper columns and brought new viewers to the sport. First, we had the teenage sensation, Yulia Lipnitskaya, light up the team event and dazzle in the Short Programme. But, unexpectedly, she fell at the final hurdle, leaving room for the more experienced to have their day.
Her teammate, Adelina Sotnikova, took the gold – a shock for all those watching, no more so than Kim Yuna, the favourite who skated beautifully. The aftermath of the competition saw petitions from an appalled South Korea whose population wanted the gold back in Yuna’s hands. It also spawned countless explainers about why Sotnikova, in fact, did earn the top podium position
My favourite moment though — and why I wish I was there — was the tear-jerking achievements of Italian athlete Carolina Kostner. She was the face of Turin 2006 (and I mean The Face with capital letters — think Jessica Ennis in 2012) and it all went terribly wrong. Unlike Ennis, she fell, she tripped, she fumbled and placed just ninth. Her nerves never fully recovered, despite winning European and World championships.
I was even nervous for her when she took to the ice. I don’t know her, I’ve never met her, hell, I’ve never even seen her live. But, it seems, I became emotionally attached to this ice princess from Italy whose father had built her a rink once her talent became apparent.
I didn’t believe she could do it but coming off the ice after skating to Ave Maria in her short programme, you could hear her coach ask her: “Now do you believe in yourself? Now do you believe?”
She kept it together and took the bronze medal and later said a circle had been complete. There was nothing missing in her career or life now. Beautiful.
Ryan Bailey
Gleneagles, the first tee – 26 September
Never has the game of golf been witness to such theatre. Never has such theatre transpired on a golf course. For the other 360 days of the year, the sport is played to a backdrop of deferential silence and a smattering of well mannered applause by the appreciative galleries. However, the Ryder Cup is different. As Justin Rose remarked “This is the closest golfer gets to experiencing what it’s like to be a Premier League footballer.”
A temporary stand — accommodating no more than 3,000 spectators — transformed the first tee of Gleneagles’ Centenary Course into a sporting Colosseum where gladiators prepared for battle. Before the sun had even risen above the Perthshire hills, there were thousands encompassing the first tee and fairway, roaring, singing and chanting the name of each player who dared emerge from the tunnel that connected the driving range to the bear-pit.
“Europe! Europe!” echoed around Gleneagles as Paul McGinley appeared from the sanctuary of the clubhouse. There was more to follow. A fleeting chorus of “USA, USA” was countered by “Ole, ole, ole” and an array of songs to include the names of those in European blue. Justin Rose was first up, greeted by a rendition of Spandau Ballet’s Gold.
Then, there was the deathly silence (unless Bubba was involved). It mattered little that it was 6am because for this one weekend, for this one morning, the circus had rolled into town and golf was the main act.
Eoin O’Callaghan
Anfield, 15 April 2014
The silence, perhaps, said it all. A vast emptiness quickly engulfed a football stadium, just as it had done 25 years before. And just like on that day, thousands of pairs of eyes glazed over and tears ran free.
Later, the eerie quiet was punctuated not by the shrillness of ambulances but by the solemn sound of bells. At 15.06, they began to ring. 96 times they chimed and with each one, memories flooded back to those who had gathered. They remembered their sons, their daughters, their brothers, their sisters, their parents. They remembered their own pain and suffering and heartache. They remembered the 96.
Everything took on added significance. The sea of red scarves, You’ll Never Walk Alone. But this wasn’t a celebration but a reflection on lives lost. And a reflection too on unity, on support, on togetherness.
Fintan O’Toole
The high point of the World Cup was the concluding stages of the last 16. Germany v Algeria on Monday 30 June was great fun but Belgium against USA the following night was even better.
There were no goals in the first 90 minutes, largely due to a phenomenal goalkeeping show by Tim Howard that repelled Belgium, yet it was still brilliant to watch. Extra-time hurtled along with Belgium seemingly putting the game to bed when Kevin De Bruyne and Romelu Lukaku scored.
But the US powered back with a Julian Green goal and laid siege to the Belgian goal. Their ridiculously elaborate free-kick routine late on nearly sent the game to penalties.
The World Cup always throws up a random game that grabs your attention and this was it for me. The atmosphere looked brilliant and it seemed a seminal moment for US soccer with the interest the game generated.
Steven O’Rourke
Why would anyone want to go to a dead rubber between two relegated sides on the final day of the league? That’s what I told myself as I sat at home on 6 April this year as Kildare hosted Westmeath in a nothing game in Newbridge.
However, little was I – or anyone for that matter – to realise that when he came on to replace goalscorer Cathal McNally, it would be the final time anyone saw the great Johnny Doyle in a Kildare jersey.
Just after the game, Doyle hung up his prolific shooting boots on an inter-county career that spanned 14 years and nearly 60 games. That he didn’t win an All-Ireland is a shame but it is just about all he didn’t singlehandedly bring home to Kildare.
Ruaidhri Croke
Augusta National Golf Club, Sunday 13 April
Although this year’s Masters won’t go down in the history books as one of the best in terms of drama, it was still a superb spectacle. It doesn’t matter what happens in that April week each year, The Masters is still the highlight of the golfing season. The theatre of watching the world’s best battle it out on the most glorious stage imaginable is truly breathtaking.
Sunday’s events this year were special, however. Seeing a golfer as unconventional as Bubba Watson tame a golf course as traditional as Augusta National is a sight to behold. Bubba doesn’t play golf as golf should be played. He contorts both his body and the ball into unnatural positions and uses a pink-shafted driver, he comes from the tiny Florida town of Bagdad, but he has twice turned up at the Mecca of golf and beaten the factory-crafted ‘conventional’ golfers.
Bubba shows that you don’t always have to stick to the textbook.
Paul Fennessy
Ireland 26-23 Australia, Aviva Stadium — 22 November
The Six Nations triumph may have been more important, and the South Africa defeat was undoubtedly more impressive, but for sheer excitement and drama Ireland’s 26-23 win over Australia was hard to beat.
While the success in Paris will be looked back upon more fondly in time, there is something uniquely special about a big win on home soil, particularly in an atmosphere as deafening the Aviva Stadium tends to be on memorable sporting occasions.
Home fans went through just about every emotion that day, from the ecstasy of seeing Ireland go 17-0 up to despair upon witnessing the Aussies level the score before half-time.
Ultimately, it will be remembered as a match that was won by grit and determination rather than ingenious moments of skill, and Paul O’Connell’s huge hit on Ben McCalman towards the end summed up the hosts’ defiance as their opponents searched in vain for points late on.
The win, which capped an incredible year for the Irish rugby team, may not quite have made up for the New Zealand disappointment the previous year but it at least showed Ireland were no longer as prone to self-destruction late on against world-class opposition. Roll on World Cup 2015!
Niall Kelly
When bilocation becomes a scientific possibility, nobody will ever be asked to choose between two sporting events on opposite sides of the country on the same day.
On this occasion, the deck was stacked — I only live a stone’s thrown away from Croke Park, and I’d been given a ticket as a gift, but even still there was great temptation to choose the Gaelic Grounds over Jones’ Road and travel down to Limerick with a neutral’s curious eye for the All-Ireland SFC semi-final replay between Kerry and Mayo. In the back of my mind, I quietly considered it a chance to get a first-hand look at Dublin’s final opponents … but the less said about that the better.
Instead I took my place in the Hogan Stand for the Croke Park Classic between Penn State and the UCF Knights, a game that chugged along without much excitement until it exploded into life in a dramatic finale. It finished around 4.45pm, just enough time to get back to the local hostelry and take my seat. As I watched the football game of the summer unfold — Cillian O’Connor and James O’Donoghue shooting the lights out at either end, Rob Hennelly’s late free that dropped just short, the almighty schemozzle at the death, the same old agonising story for Mayo — I couldn’t help but wish that I’d chosen the longer trip that afternoon.
Will Slattery
Bath 28-6 Harlequins – 29 November 2014
In years to come, we will look back at this night at the Recreaction Ground as a transformative moment in the history of rugby union. The only comparison that can adequately describe the seismic introduction of Slammin’ Sam Burgess to the sport for the first time is when the audience first catches a glimpse of Arnold Schwarzeneger in The Terminator.
If the inventors of rugby league and union had a baby, and that baby was best mates with Russell Crowe too, it would still only be half as promising as Burgess. The man oozes toughness but also has a magician’s sleight of hand when it comes to offloading the ball.
We only saw flashes of the Bath Basher’s prodigious talent that night at the Rec, but when he annihilates Sonny Bill Williams – AGAIN – at the 2015 Rugby World Cup, it will make me wish I was there on 29 November to witness an evolutionary step forward in the history of the rugby.
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