1. Six months on it still preys on him, that empty chair in Manor Lawn, the memory of just ten people standing in Ferrybank cemetery as the coffin was eased down.
Nickey McGrath had gone to hospital with a pain in his hand on October 5 only for scans to reveal a spiral of cancer in his lungs. Long after he’d abandoned them, the cursed cigarettes came ghosting back to take him.
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He slipped away on January 2 just as he’d lived, with the quiet, buttoned-up dignity of a self-educated man.
And even now, even with the cushion of time, the pain still comes gusting unexpectedly. Talking about it feels cathartic, necessary even.
Derek McGrath has never suffered that peculiar Irish male awkwardness around expressions of love and when he remembers his late father now, a smile never quite leaves his lips.
2. As we watched Simone Biles, it felt like we were part of a pilgrimage.
We’d traveled to Missouri for the U.S. Olympic gymnastics trials, a huge crowd of strangers now bonded by this collective coming-together. We were yearning to witness greatness, but we also felt protective of her, invested in her. All of us knew, without needing to verbalize it, this was likely our last chance to see her competing in the flesh.
So when Simone Biles, during her balance beam routine, wobbled twice, then hopped to the floor in disgust, thousands of people inside The Dome at America’s Center let loose an audible gasp.
It was an instinctive, but unified sound — part surprise, part concern. As Biles climbed back on the beam to finish her routine, I realized it was also a noise I hadn’t heard in more than a year. All 24,000 of us were joined together in collective emotion, and we were reacting to something happening right in front of us, something we could bear witness to without the technological magic of fiber optic cables or high-definition cameras.
In that moment, we got to feel anxious together instead of alone.
3. Three Allstars, five Ulster titles, an All-Ireland and 190 games in, few have ever represented Donegal with the distinction Neil McGee has.
He is the best full-back the county has ever produced. So deep is his imprint in the number three shirt that the search for his eventual replacement has floundered completely.
The beginnings were a serious mark of his own self-belief. He was on the Buncrana Cup panel at U16 when the list of names for county minor trials were advertised in the local papers.
Neil McGee wasn’t invited. That didn’t stop him turning up.
“Out of my own stubbornness, I was full sure I should have been up.”
One of the corner-backs didn’t show up. The management looked at young McGee, a midfielder by trade at that stage, with the boots and all on him and threw him in to the breach.
He excelled and would earn his way, starting the championship defeat by Cavan.
Within weeks of the trial, he was playing full-back for Gaoth Dobhair’s senior team.
4. A coward with a bedsheet and poor sense of direction increased support for Benítez among appalled and embarrassed Evertonians this week by daubing “We know where you live” on said linen outside a house where the 61-year-old and his family do not live. Therein lies the problem. A sinister, idiotic act inadvertently helped Benítez’s cause in a way his Champions League, Europa League and La Liga winning credentials had not.
Benítez is a consummate professional who will spend an entire night and early morning after a game analysing his team’s performance on repeat. Liverpool allegiances will be easily parked. His attention to detail is meticulous and impressed Moshiri during several rounds of talks.
His willingness to confront owners over any perceived shortcoming is also well known. That is precisely what Everton do need. Poor signings on exorbitant contracts, too many cosy internal appointments and the longest trophy drought in the club’s history necessitate a change in culture.
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The majesty of Simone Biles and the rest of the week's best sportswriting
1. Six months on it still preys on him, that empty chair in Manor Lawn, the memory of just ten people standing in Ferrybank cemetery as the coffin was eased down.
Nickey McGrath had gone to hospital with a pain in his hand on October 5 only for scans to reveal a spiral of cancer in his lungs. Long after he’d abandoned them, the cursed cigarettes came ghosting back to take him.
He slipped away on January 2 just as he’d lived, with the quiet, buttoned-up dignity of a self-educated man.
And even now, even with the cushion of time, the pain still comes gusting unexpectedly. Talking about it feels cathartic, necessary even.
Derek McGrath has never suffered that peculiar Irish male awkwardness around expressions of love and when he remembers his late father now, a smile never quite leaves his lips.
Derek McGrath talks of his father’s death in an interview with Vincent Hogan for the Irish Independent. (€)
2. As we watched Simone Biles, it felt like we were part of a pilgrimage.
We’d traveled to Missouri for the U.S. Olympic gymnastics trials, a huge crowd of strangers now bonded by this collective coming-together. We were yearning to witness greatness, but we also felt protective of her, invested in her. All of us knew, without needing to verbalize it, this was likely our last chance to see her competing in the flesh.
So when Simone Biles, during her balance beam routine, wobbled twice, then hopped to the floor in disgust, thousands of people inside The Dome at America’s Center let loose an audible gasp.
It was an instinctive, but unified sound — part surprise, part concern. As Biles climbed back on the beam to finish her routine, I realized it was also a noise I hadn’t heard in more than a year. All 24,000 of us were joined together in collective emotion, and we were reacting to something happening right in front of us, something we could bear witness to without the technological magic of fiber optic cables or high-definition cameras.
In that moment, we got to feel anxious together instead of alone.
For ESPN, Kevin Van Valkenburg writes of witnessing the incomparable Simone Biles.
3. Three Allstars, five Ulster titles, an All-Ireland and 190 games in, few have ever represented Donegal with the distinction Neil McGee has.
He is the best full-back the county has ever produced. So deep is his imprint in the number three shirt that the search for his eventual replacement has floundered completely.
The beginnings were a serious mark of his own self-belief. He was on the Buncrana Cup panel at U16 when the list of names for county minor trials were advertised in the local papers.
Neil McGee wasn’t invited. That didn’t stop him turning up.
“Out of my own stubbornness, I was full sure I should have been up.”
One of the corner-backs didn’t show up. The management looked at young McGee, a midfielder by trade at that stage, with the boots and all on him and threw him in to the breach.
He excelled and would earn his way, starting the championship defeat by Cavan.
Within weeks of the trial, he was playing full-back for Gaoth Dobhair’s senior team.
Cahair O’Kane of the Irish News meets Neil McGee.
4. A coward with a bedsheet and poor sense of direction increased support for Benítez among appalled and embarrassed Evertonians this week by daubing “We know where you live” on said linen outside a house where the 61-year-old and his family do not live. Therein lies the problem. A sinister, idiotic act inadvertently helped Benítez’s cause in a way his Champions League, Europa League and La Liga winning credentials had not.
Benítez is a consummate professional who will spend an entire night and early morning after a game analysing his team’s performance on repeat. Liverpool allegiances will be easily parked. His attention to detail is meticulous and impressed Moshiri during several rounds of talks.
His willingness to confront owners over any perceived shortcoming is also well known. That is precisely what Everton do need. Poor signings on exorbitant contracts, too many cosy internal appointments and the longest trophy drought in the club’s history necessitate a change in culture.
Andy Hunter of The Guardian analyses the shock appointment of Rafael Benitez as the new Everton manager.
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