The fantastic jeopardy of promotion and relegation

Caoimhín Rowland

FOLLOWING the play-off finals of English football's less glamorous but arguably more entertaining lower-division football leagues, it was hard not to be wrapped up in the soap opera that is the promotion, play-off and relegation drama of it all.

It was pulsating stuff, from Sheffield Wednesday’s heroic comeback in the second leg of their play-off semi-final to ultimately gaining promotion from League One, then over to Edgeley Park and Stockport County making their way up the footballing pyramid from the Conference two seasons ago to anticipating a spell in England’s third tier next year.

Whoever won promotion from the Championship, Luton or Coventry, there was a fairytale folklore guaranteed for features writers the world over – before Dabo failed to convert his spot-kick for Coventry City and cemented the Hatters as Premier League fodder for 2023/24.

All of that got me thinking about Balla, and I can probably count on one hand all of the times I’ve ever thought about Balla!

One would be a party piece of mine. After introducing myself to international friends and colleagues, a great icebreaker, I often find, is to then bamboozle them with the spelling in contrast to the phonetic pronunciation 'Qweeveen'. I’m met nine times out of 10 with baffling bemusement. For that one time out of 10, I like to throw up Google Maps, hit search for Balla and ask: “Now, how do you think this town is pronounced?”

Despite blossoming global recognition, Balla GAA is a club that sat in the doldrums of junior football for quite some time. But now it ranks amongst the biggest beasts in club football here in the county.

That, however, is only a recent phenomenon, with boisterous neighbours on either side of them. I'm sure the current crop of players who helped their club rise the ladder to the top echelons of the club game suffered severely with jibes at school and on nights out of being nearly men.

“Not quite up to it and just not having it in them,” the taunts might have run.

I have a soft spot for the Maroon. They were the first team I ever wrote a match report on. It was a balmy summer Bofeenaun evening in 2014, and the left boot of Conor Walsh lives long in the memory. Matty Flanagan made his championship debut in the second half. Alas, Lahardane MacHales came out on the right side of the clash.

We did always have their number in those years of junior football. Progressing further into our magical year under John Maughan, we dispatched them in the semi-final with panache and went on to claim the John McDonnell Cup as our own in 2017.

“What hoodoo have those Titanic villagers over us?” Balla surely asked one another at their next Rendezvous point.

COURAGE

In the following years, it’s safe to say complacency was swapped with courage. A long-awaited county final win the year after us saw John McDonnell depart from Nephin and hit for a spot of bingo.

A cherished cup in Addergoole only dropped lower and then lower again in significance in Balla’s trophy cabinet. Below the golf course, ascendancy became the order of the day.

Such a fate is only made possible by the jeopardy of promotion and relegation. A concept estranged from our American brethren but understood well in the foreign game across the Irish Sea.

Thoughts on the current structure of the set-up are entirely subjective. If you were to ask a Cill Chomáin supporter, you'd be presented with how deeply unfair it all is. The cruelty of missing out two years in a row and failing, coupled with beating teams their supposed superior in league action, would explain it all in their heather-tinted eyes.

This year, my black and amber colleagues would be inclined to agree with them. Last year, however, before we met the drop from intermediate, we'd have laughed the idea out of the room.

Therein lies beauty in the blind allegiance of it all. Without such hurdles put in place for promotion and demotion, would it be of any worth to anyone anywhere to even tune in?

Who'd be bothered to make it home in time for training, arrange to mark the pitch at the first sight of good weather or cancel plans for suntans in the long-drawn summer months?

On the shores of Lough Conn, Lahardane MacHales – just like many others across the county – hope to tread once more along the Beaten Path.