Many thanks to Jim Mac Manus for submitting this...

I just recently came upon this poem by Niall Óg Mac Murchaidh Ró Chan “The Hurling Match of Bavan Meadow”, Omeath, 1750. Maybe some of our readers will remember it. ‘Fraid I was a wee bit too young.

The Hurling Match of Bavan Meadow

‘Twas on Bavan-meadow Green that our lads, a choice sixteen

Of Omeath’s athletic team, was football playing,

Where, from noon the game went on ‘til old Sol was set and gone,

Yet no score, not even one, by either claiming.

Two well-matched teams in action full of dash and fearless tacklin’

In their pace no gale of March-wind could o’ertake them,

And of all those maidens fair who came just to stand and stare,

None but felt a heartbeat quare, in admiration.

Now to mention every name and each man, in this great game

I should like to do that same, with much affection,

Young O’Neill would be the first, for the ball he never missed,

With his foot or fist he’d shoot in true direction,

Then big Sár MaCuarta tall, see him jumpin’ for the ball!

Head and shoulders over all, like Fionn the giant;

And the two O’Murley Boys, swift as swallows in the skies,

With O’Hagan brothers vying to outshine them.

Standing ready in the goals is wee O’Duffy on his toes,

Like Setanta facing foes on Eamain Macha;

While O’Morgan and O’Hare, two full backs beyond compare,

Overthrow all daring efforts to get past them.

And the boys up in the ruck, O’Hanlon, Cassley and O’Ruarc

Where the tussle for possession is a hard one,

Till O’Conn’ly’s quick snatch grips the ball, and in a flash

Sends it soaring high and far across the Bavan.