Further More
By Gerry Moran
I didn’t vote in the election. I didn’t vote because I couldn’t. I was out of the country. And did I think when booking my flight that it would clash with the General Election? I did not. And when I realised that I would forfeit my vote did I change my flight? I did not. I have my priorities! That said I am genuinely sad that I didn’t get to cast my vote for Malcolm Noonan (a past pupil of mine) of the Green Party who could have done with every vote he could get, not that Gerry’s vote would have redeemed him. Malcom gave over twenty unbroken years of service representing the people of Kilkenny, five as a TD and Minister, for Carlow-Kilkenny. And to quote Malcom: ‘While we are deeply disappointed that it hasn’t worked out for us, we are immensely proud of everything we achieved over that time.’ And, Malcolm, I am immensely proud of you and all that you have achieved. Well done. And I wish you every success in your future endeavours. Another past pupil of mine who would have gotten a vote and who I was sorry to see edged out was David Fitzgerald of Fine Gael, a man for whom I have the greatest respect and belief in as a politician. Maybe next time, David. Maybe. And another candidate I was sorry to see eliminated and who would have gotten a vote was Labour’s Seán O hArgáin, a former school Principal (like myself) Sean’s voice I’d also like to have heard in Dáil Eireann. A voice that we will hear and that we’ve been hearing for more years than I can remember is that of John McGuinness. John, congratulations, sir, on topping the poll and being top of the pile. Again. What’s this they say: ‘You can’t beat the old dog for the hard road.’ Not that you’re that old, John, we’re around the same age I believe. Sure we’re only in our prime! I expect you to vote yes to that, John.
The country responsible for me, and my wife, forfeiting our votes in the election is Wales. We were paying a Christmas visit to my son and his wife (a feisty Welsh woman) and our two grandchildren: Ollie, all of five and a half years old, and Eadie, one sprightly two and a half year old. Eadie is one of those children who, if I may indulge in a well-worn cliché (and I am prejudiced) spreads joy. She bounces around with unbounded energy, a winsome smile on her chirpy, little face and is full of devilment. Ollie is no less energetic and one consolation of missing the General Election was seeing Ollie score two goals in an Under Seven, five-aside, soccer league. Yep, a group of five-year olds togged out against the mostly six year olds as Ollie’s team didn’t have enough six year olds on their panel. Although Ollie scored two goals his team were beaten, that one year advantage made a difference. And I forgot how sensitive kids are – some were crying, including Ollie. Even though we tried to console him: ‘Ollie you scored two great goals and you defended well’, he was having none of it. He walked from the pitch with his head bowed. Sad to see. And yet, I was glad that Ollie was upset, glad that he was not consoling himself with the two goals he scored. I was glad that he felt annoyed at being beaten. What’s this the American football coach, Vince Lombardi, once said: ‘Show me a good loser, and I’ll show you a loser.’ And though Ollie’s team lost, Ollie himself is no loser (but again I’m prejudiced).
If there’s a common denominator to this column, apart from politics, it’s school. So I’ll leave you with a timely, little ditty by my former school inspector, Proinsias O’Donnchadha, now a great friend of mine. Called Ode to Winter, it’s a very short take on Keats’s Ode to Autumn.
Season of flu and Covid jabs
Runny noses and barking coughs
Rheumy eyes and sharp earaches
Stiffened joints and frozen fingers
Ice-cold hands in need of mittens
Chilblain-ed toes through socks a sticking
Leafless trees and naked branches
Winter’s arm around me squeezing
