'Pipe dream' - How it felt to play at Croke Park to over 70k and give band scene much-needed shot in arm
The routine is so ingrained by now as to be done on auto-pilot. Try and get to Croke Park as early as you can on big matchdays, dump the car somewhere around the North Circular Road, stroll down Jones’s Road and in through the media entrance in the Hogan Stand. Your name will be ticked off and an ‘event staff’ wrist band issued, bag checked and tagged. Take the lift up to Level 7, your match programme is issued by Padraic and Éamonn, find a seat in Row C of the press area and while the time away until throw-in. But, today, bar the fact that you are issued with the same wrist band, it’s different. I’ve played pipes since I was 10 years of age and St Joseph’s Pipe Band, Clondalkin, of which I am a member, has been afforded the opportunity to play at the Meath-Galway and Kerry-Armagh All-Ireland football quarter-final double header. My first exposure to playing at a game was as a 12-year-old for the 1994 All-Ireland under-21 hurling final in Tullamore. All was going well until a fracas broke out among the Kilkenny and Galway players during the parade, with some of them piling into the middle of the band. But there are no pre-match parades for quarter-finals, so at least there’s no fear of having to meet a shoulder from Rian O’Neill or David Clifford.
Pat Nolan and the St. Joseph’s Pipe Band perform in Croke Park
(Image: ©INPHO/James Crombie)
I played in Croke Park for the 2003 Special Olympics opening ceremony, which was amazing, but it was an enormous event. This time, a more niche element of our musical culture is being given a sizeable platform to itself. It sometimes feels as though the pipe band scene exists in a parallel universe. Not all bands play competitively but next month, for example, we will travel to the World Championships in Glasgow. Some 30,000 will attend. The commitment required to compete at this level is commensurate to that of, say, senior club level in GAA terms, so it’s certainly not insignificant. Irish bands, including St Joseph’s, have won big in Scotland in the past, but it just doesn’t tend to resonate over here. Our pipe major, Tim Farrelly, produced a research paper last year entitled ‘The Decline of Bagpiping and Pipe Bands in Post-Colonial Ireland’. He found that in the period from 1907-79, there were 551 known pipe bands in Ireland. Last year, there were just 26 bands registered with the Irish Pipe Band Association, which governs the 26 counties. Pipe bands are rare in Croke Park these days and St Joseph’s hadn’t played there since the 1940s. So, exposure like this, in front of more than 70,000 in the stadium and some 500,000 watching on television, is an enormous, and badly-needed, promotional opportunity, not just for our band but for the pipe band scene in general. We take a coach from Clondalkin to Croke Park. We’ve been told we can park behind the Cusack Stand. Rookie error straight away: we try to enter via St Joseph’s Avenue, off Clonliffe Road, as I would when attending a press event on that side of the stadium on a weekday morning.
Croke Park's Robert Smith explains the process before St. Joseph’s Pipe Band perform at GAA HQ
(Image: ©INPHO/James Crombie)
But it’s blocked off on matchdays. So we have to swing back and enter via St James’s Avenue instead - with a Garda escorting us in on his push bike! Once we disembark, we’re met by Robert Smith, who essentially makes matchdays tick at Croke Park. He takes us inside the ground and gives a pep talk just beyond the Ali Tunnel on the dos and don’ts. Unlike brass instruments, pipes require much fine-tuning but they make a lot of noise so we have to be careful about where we do this. Can’t go near the TV trucks, so it’s under the Davin/Hogan Stand corner in the bowels of the stadium that we start. Tom Ryan, the GAA director general, squeezes past us in his car. Then the Kerry team bus snakes along. Jack O’Connor gives us a wave. The players are bemused by the sight of 30-odd people in kilts. All the while, the Meath-Galway game is underway since 1.45pm. We have no idea how it’s going. On occasions in the past, I have doubled up on a county final day - play with the band and scamper up and down the steps to the press box. But it’s just not feasible in a stadium like Croke Park on a matchday like this. At 2pm there is more tuning, this time by tunnel in the Hogan Stand/Nally Terrace corner, from where we enter the field. Come 2.10pm we’re in situ and ready to go on, once the first half comes to an end. And it does with John Maher fisting a point to put Galway one up. So, we march onto the pitch though there is a certain cut of grass on which we can set foot, so our ranks are narrower than would normally be the case. We turn and face the Hogan Stand and are granted a warm reception. Five minutes is all that’s required of us. Armagh players come past to get a feel for the pitch as we play. One of them even takes a video of us. We play two quick sets and off we go. There’s a bit of time to kill before we play again so some of us get the lift to Level 3 and take our seats at the back of the lower deck of the Hogan. Meath are going well but Galway hit them for two goals to go three up as we have to go back down. More tuning. But by the time the lift hits Level 1, Meath are one up again and they kick on for a momentous victory.
The St. Joseph’s Pipe Band ready to enter the arena at in Croke Park
(Image: ©INPHO/James Crombie)
Ten minutes before Kerry-Armagh gets underway, we’re back on the pitch and must countermarch to face the national flag, ahead of playing Amhrán na bhFiann, at the Hogan Stand tunnel, through which we have to make a speedy exit this time rather than the far corner so as not to delay the throw-in unduly. The Kerry management is pensive alongside us. Jerry Grogan, the voice of Croke Park, appeals to the crowd to respect the anthem until its conclusion before introducing the band. Playing the Soldier’s Song backed by a 70,000-strong choir is quite the experience and phones buzz in our sporrans as we shuttle down the tunnel and the ball is thrown in. It’s not worth returning to our seats for the first half as we are required to play again at half-time, but we catch some of the action from the Nally/Hogan tunnel by looking up at the big screen on Hill 16. Clifford kicks a nice one off his right. Robert tells us that some of the Ulster delegation in the Ard Comhairle have been in touch already, expressing their delight at a pipe band being back in Croke Park. Back on the pitch at half-time, Aisling O’Reilly gives us a generous introduction as we round off a set with a tune called Ivernia, which was composed by our pipe major, Tim. And that concluded our duties for the day, so back up to Level 3 to take in the second half in comfort as Kerry produce a storming quarter, hitting 0-14 in a 15-minute period, to bury the reigning champions. It’s refreshing to be able to walk out the gate once the game is over rather than trudge down for post-match quotes though Jack, to be fair to him, is value for money today as I read later that he has a cut at Kerry’s critics within the county. “Great sound today, lads, well done,” says a Kerry supporter on the way out. The response to a video of the anthem posted on social media is extraordinary, with it registering hundreds of thousands of views. Well-known referee David Gough was the sideline official and so he was right alongside us as we played. “This was simply sensational,” he posts. Tipperary All-Ireland winner Shane McGrath expresses what appears to be a widespread sentiment in calling for a more regular slot for the band at Croke Park. Maybe they’ll have us back some time. Get the latest sports headlines straight to your inbox by signing up for free email alerts.
