Street leagues in Mayo county town remembered

By Tom Gillespie

AS a youngster I was not much of a footballer. In fact, I never got in on playing GAA, soccer or rugby.

When we were in national school in the military barracks after St. Patrick’s National School on Chapel Street burned down in April 1957, our teacher for five years, Brother Dennis, insisted that we all played football on the green area in the barracks square.

Piles of coats substituted as goal posts and two teams were formed from our class.

On one occasion, to my relief, I was put in goal but I was not a happy camper and I wanted to be elsewhere, preferably out fishing.

My career as a goalkeeper was short-lived as each time an opponent shot at goal I dived on purpose the other way. Much to my delight, it was not long until I was given my marching orders.

In the 1950s the street league was all the rage in Castlebar, with four teams, from different parts of the county town, competing - McHale’s, Davitt’s, Emmet’s and Pearse’s.

No marks for guessing that McHale’s came from McHale Road, Davitt’s from the Davitt’s Terrace area, the Pearse’s from the Spencer Street area and the Emmet’s from the Newport Road region.

This old photograph of members of the Under 11 McHale’s team from June 1955 will bring back many happy memories for those involved and their families.

The 116-house estate was officially opened on New Year’s Day, 1935, the residents having moved in the previous October.

When opened it was the biggest local authority housing estate ever undertaken in Ireland. Because of its size, the road had a huge number of young and talented footballers to choose from, both for Gaelic and soccer.

My colleague Todd Burke, and a former McHale Road resident, in an article, ‘Remembering the '50s’, in the McHale Road 70th anniversary magazine in 2005, wrote: During the summer there was always something to do. MacHale Park and the street leagues generated so much excitement and with feelings running high at times - or blue murder as those rare occasions were often described.

In the Under 12s, Under 14s and Under 16s the teams produced so many great games.

If a player missed a goal or let in a soft goal you were called all the names under the sun.

McHale’s Under 12s won one or two finals. One of two finals will always live in my memory.

We (the McHale’s team) were all invited to a celebration party in the captain’s home. The cup was filled with lemonade and the party was in full swing when there was a knock on the door.

It was someone who felt the vice-captain should hold the cup for the first six months. So the argument went on and on.

I lived in Marian Row and when we moved in there in 1954, what is now the green was a building site with rubble of all sorts.

When the green was eventually developed we played football there. I enjoyed this as it was not compulsory and I was with my friends.

The one downside of playing football on the Marian Row/St. Bridget’s Crescent green was more often than not the ball ended up in the river. Despite our best efforts, it was rarely retrieved until it reached the corner at Nurse Byrne's house on the Newport Road where the Revive Chiropractic Clinic now stands.

The river along Marian Row is in a steep man-made channel and back then it narrowed as it turned the corner at Byrne’s where it was possible to grab the ball without getting wet. That section of the river, from Nurse Byrne's to Hynes’ house, has long since been covered in and piped all the way down to the town river where it can be seen today entering the main river across from the Aldi car park.

In 1953, with the encyclical Fulgens corona, Pope Pius ordered a Marian Year for 1954, the first in Church history. The year was filled with Marian initiatives, in the areas of Mariology, cultural events, and charity and social gatherings.

And so the 24-house estate, constructed by builders McCormack Brothers, had to be named Marian Row.

The nearby hat factory field, too, was another great location for a game of football. However, if the ball entered the town river it was goodbye. But a line of fine, stout palm trees along the bank often proved a saviour. A few of these trees still remain along the walkway at the back of Griffith’s Garage.

During the street leagues very few boys actually owned an actual football. Only those who were avid players were lucky enough to have a proper leather football.

This, however, often led to many dust-ups. This happened when the owner of the football was not picked to play on a team. His revenge: ‘If I’m not playing, no one is’, and he would promptly tuck the ball under his arm and hit for home.

Plastic balls were yet to come on the market so we soon learned to ‘be nice’ to the ball owner.