Post by Deleted on Aug 4, 2013 15:50:18 GMT
This was the second of two Irish tours in successive years; all the result of Don O'Riordan - the manager of the time - coming from Dublin.
My memory is of a coach load of "supporters" setting off from South Devon on the Thursday afternoon picking up various stragglers along the way. I'd say there were around forty-five of us; a mixture of hardcore home-and-away followers, regulars at Plainmoor and occasionals "topped up" (as they say) by a group of around a dozen hardened drinkers who displayed absolutely no interest in Torquay United. It was rumoured that this last group had associations with the Royal Standard. They soon made their presence felt and continued to do so unless comatose or absent engaged on other activities.
Thursday involved a pub stop in Shrewsbury and then a dash up the A5 to Holyhead where we just made the boat. I'd heard about drunken rowdiness on the overnight Irish ferries but had never expected all the miscreants to come from Torquay. Then, from memory, we arrived in Dublin around six in the morning and promptly became lost on the way to the university campus in Maynooth where we were staying. This, until pretty recently, had been a seminary for the training of priests. By the afternoon the drunks were content to lose some of their clothing cavorting in the quadrant.
The first game was on the Friday night against Cherry Orchard, Don's boyhood team and a place where O'Riordans still trod. It was clear they were all proud of our man and the welcome was fantastic not that anybody had the slightest idea of where Torquay might be.
Cherry Orchard are based in Ballyfermot which, in the spirit of those times, could be described as "Roddy Doyle country" and most definitely off the standard red bus tourist trail. Indeed there are Torquay supporters alive even today who can say they've not visited Trinity College, Phoenix Park nor O'Connell Street but have seen a game on a school pitch in Ballyfermot and drunk until late in a social club around the corner.
The Saturday game was at Galway, a couple of hours drive from Maynooth. The drunks weren't ready in time; a few people went into Dublin or to the racing at Fairyhouse. This meant around thirty of us saw the game at Galway which was played on the Galwegians rugby ground rather than Terrylands. Consequently it was a scrappy affair on a poor pitch. But Galway is a fine, fine city and always worth a visit.
Finally to Sligo on the Sunday, the only game to be played on a proper pitch and against truly decent opposition. Another fair old drive to the west coast and a full-house attendance on the coach this time including the inebriated, several of whom slept on the open terrace throughout the game. Later I recall that, at a roadside cafe after the game, we formed a touching temporary alliance with Leitrim Gaelic football supporters celebrating their first Connacht title since the year Torquay were elected to the Football League. When their coach drove off they rather sweetly displayed a "Torquay for the Cup" banner. Poor Leitrim then proceeded to win bugger all until this year.
Thereafter back home on the Monday part-way in the company of the players who were on the same ferry. From memory Richard Hancox had bought along his guitar and gave us a showing of his full range of talents.
My memory is of a coach load of "supporters" setting off from South Devon on the Thursday afternoon picking up various stragglers along the way. I'd say there were around forty-five of us; a mixture of hardcore home-and-away followers, regulars at Plainmoor and occasionals "topped up" (as they say) by a group of around a dozen hardened drinkers who displayed absolutely no interest in Torquay United. It was rumoured that this last group had associations with the Royal Standard. They soon made their presence felt and continued to do so unless comatose or absent engaged on other activities.
Thursday involved a pub stop in Shrewsbury and then a dash up the A5 to Holyhead where we just made the boat. I'd heard about drunken rowdiness on the overnight Irish ferries but had never expected all the miscreants to come from Torquay. Then, from memory, we arrived in Dublin around six in the morning and promptly became lost on the way to the university campus in Maynooth where we were staying. This, until pretty recently, had been a seminary for the training of priests. By the afternoon the drunks were content to lose some of their clothing cavorting in the quadrant.
The first game was on the Friday night against Cherry Orchard, Don's boyhood team and a place where O'Riordans still trod. It was clear they were all proud of our man and the welcome was fantastic not that anybody had the slightest idea of where Torquay might be.
Cherry Orchard are based in Ballyfermot which, in the spirit of those times, could be described as "Roddy Doyle country" and most definitely off the standard red bus tourist trail. Indeed there are Torquay supporters alive even today who can say they've not visited Trinity College, Phoenix Park nor O'Connell Street but have seen a game on a school pitch in Ballyfermot and drunk until late in a social club around the corner.
The Saturday game was at Galway, a couple of hours drive from Maynooth. The drunks weren't ready in time; a few people went into Dublin or to the racing at Fairyhouse. This meant around thirty of us saw the game at Galway which was played on the Galwegians rugby ground rather than Terrylands. Consequently it was a scrappy affair on a poor pitch. But Galway is a fine, fine city and always worth a visit.
Finally to Sligo on the Sunday, the only game to be played on a proper pitch and against truly decent opposition. Another fair old drive to the west coast and a full-house attendance on the coach this time including the inebriated, several of whom slept on the open terrace throughout the game. Later I recall that, at a roadside cafe after the game, we formed a touching temporary alliance with Leitrim Gaelic football supporters celebrating their first Connacht title since the year Torquay were elected to the Football League. When their coach drove off they rather sweetly displayed a "Torquay for the Cup" banner. Poor Leitrim then proceeded to win bugger all until this year.
Thereafter back home on the Monday part-way in the company of the players who were on the same ferry. From memory Richard Hancox had bought along his guitar and gave us a showing of his full range of talents.
