Heats are on for pick of the bunch

The Rose of Tralee may be considered outmoded, but its popularity persists and the honour of wearing the sash is hard won, as BRIAN O'CONNELLdiscovered when his sister surprised the family by taking part in this year's heats for the Clare Rose

TWO MAJOR surprises visited the O’Connell household these past weeks. The first was when an unknown person sent in an application for our youngest sister, Aoife, to potentially represent Co Clare in this year’s Rose of Tralee. The second was that, after a bit of to-ing and fro-ing, she actually agreed to take part. The unknown culprit of course turned out to be my mother, and once the sister had gotten over her initial reluctance, she was off buying a frock and organising hair and make-up in an effort to become the loveliest of lovely girls.

But that's not all. The little blister further surprised us by announcing she was going to perform a song during the public audition element of the competition. Given that the only other time we heard her sing was a boozy and somewhat croaky rendition of How's It Going, Lohan?in honour of Clare hurling legend Brian "Red Helmet" Lohan, we were intrigued, to say the least. But more of that later.

For the past few weeks, and running until July, heats are taking place in Ireland and internationally to choose competitors for this year’s Rose of Tralee. Some of the girls are on their second or third attempt to get the nod for their respective regions.

A competition that should arguably have withered and faded from relevance in post-Glenroe Ireland, has somehow maintained a strong level of individual and community participation and support. So, what is it about the competition that attracts bright, confident young women, to be judged in front of their peers and communities? “The craic, travel abroad, all my expenses paid and a week of new frocks – sure why wouldn’t I want to do it?” were the reasons given by my blossoming Rose of a sister.

We were backstage in the Oak Suite of the West County Hotel, a venue where the decor seemed to stop evolving sometime after Perestroika. It was 7.30pm last Friday night and 30 minutes before the start of the Rose of Clare. In the room were 20 lovely girls with various Clare connections, aged between 18 and 28 and aiming to represent the Banner county in Tralee in August. There were teachers and media students, nurses and gardaí, choreographers and aspiring psychologists, all quivering lips, fake tans and false nails. Each girl had a banner around them advertising their sponsor, who in turn had to fork out €250 per entrant (tickets to attend on the night were a sizeable €25 per head).

I got chatting with Laura Conlon, who was representing Sparks Dance School. “So can we expect to see a bit of the Jean Butler foot tapping from you later on?” I asked. “Sparks is a hip hop school,” she politely rebutted, leaving me to sheepishly paw the ham sandwiches.

One by one, the girls were introduced onto the stage in the main ballroom, as 350 of their family and friends cheered, waved homemade banners and whooped with delight as they took their seats.

The biggest applause was reserved for current Rose of Tralee Charmaine Kenny. Necks strained to get a full view of her dress, and mothers nodded in approval as she waved and smiled her way through the room. Kenny had told me earlier about her travels this year in Africa and Eastern Europe, continuing her interest in development work.

On stage she came across as intelligent, refreshingly down to earth and very normal. Minutes later, the MC, local jock Paul Moriarty, took to the stage in front of a glitter curtain, and built up the anticipation and excitement.

It was 8.10pm.

Showtime.

My sister was on seventh in the running order, and a group of her friends and my mother took a table at the back of the hall. They were civilised, at first, but as the night progressed their whooping got louder and their chanting more terrace-like, thanks mostly to a gallon of Clonmel chardonnay.

Sarah Lally from Shannon sang S he Moved Through the Fair,and told us she liked swimming, tea and her fiancé. There was a nurse from Broadford who told us she would be fulfilling a childhood dream by winning, while someone else told us Mary McAleese and J-Lo were her main influences in life. And then, the moment of destiny for the little blister.

“Ladies and gentlemen, from Ennis, now we have Aoife O’Connell.” My mother let out a sort of primal scream, not one I had heard before, and one probably buried deep down within every Irish mammy, only to be released when their daughter attempts to become a Rose. The MC kept it moving along nicely, and the sister handled the initial chitchat well. He steered the conversation to her day job (she’s a member of the Garda­ and stationed in Listowel). “So, how would you go about arresting me, say it was a crime of passion?” he joked rhetorically. “I suppose the furry handcuffs would have to come out,” the sister shot back. Fifteen-love.

While she might have to modify the act slightly for the Dome in Tralee, it was a case of so far so good.

“I’m going to attempt to sing a song, and just to warn ye, it’ll be more Jedward than Leona Lewis,” she said. Oh dear, here we go. The mother and myself exchanged glances of terror and nerves. The sister went with No Frontiers, the Jimmy McCarthy cover. She fell off the melody once or twice at the start, but towards the end it wasn’t half bad, not half bad at all. We were impressed – especially considering not a drop of Smirnoff Ice had passed her lips. The night went on, and just after midnight, all the prospective Roses were gathered onstage.

Drum roll please.

Without further ado, the Clare Rose for 2010 . . . is . . . not Aoife O’Connell, but a girl from Killaloe who had a stunning voice and a plucky personality.

Oh well.

We crowded around the sister offering our condolences. “How was the singing?” she asked. “Mary Black is worried,” I said, and while she may not have won it, she did us proud. She also proved publicly something we as a family knew privately for most of her life – that she really is a lovely girl.

The Dublin candidate

Doireann Ní Chaoimanaigh, from Blanchardstown, participating in the Dublin heats in Lucan in June

“The Rose of Tralee is a big event in my house. I always loved the atmosphere that went along with the festival and have wanted to be a part of it since I was a little girl. This year I just bit back my nerves and went for it.

When I told my parents that I had decided to go for it they were so happy and proud as they have wanted me to apply for years now. I am very nervous as I have never done anything like this before. Even though I have watched the show for years, I still don’t know what to expect with the various events.

My friends are almost as excited as I am. They can’t wait for the heats to begin so that they can start making posters. I don’t know if I could do it without their support. I think that having family and friends around me will help with my nerves as well.”

Norma O’Sullivan, an entrant in the Luxembourg Rose of Tralee heats

“I’m currently working in a corporate law firm in Luxembourg, having graduated from University College Cork with a law and French degree. The Rose of Tralee was something we grew up with at home in Caherciveen and has always stood out to me as an occasion of tradition, heritage and honour.

We have a great Rose committee here in Luxembourg with various nights organised prior to the Rose Ball on June 26th. The selection process is taken very seriously and I as an entrant should realise how lucky I am to be given the opportunity to participate. Yes, it is a very big deal. Not to mention the anguish of finding the right dress to wear. The Luxembourg Rose, though has great support from the local business community who provide sponsorship so the Rose contestants don’t need to secure their own funding. However, in order to get some new clothes and shoes, I think my poor father will be getting a phone call.”

Mary Catherine O’Reilly-Gindhart is taking part in the Philadelphia heat

“My heat is on in June at the Commander Barry Club, known as the Irish Centre, in Philadelphia. It is the same place where my mom won in 1968. I remember growing up as a young girl looking at her photo album of all the Roses of 1968 and seeing how passionate they were about their Irish heritage. I remember putting on my mom’s sash and parading around the house. I thought to myself, one day I want to be the Rose of Tralee.

I lost my father, Dr Robert O'Reilly-Gindhart last year to T-Cell Lymphoma cancer. If I win in Philadelphia and go on to Ireland, it would mean so much to me, because my father always called my mother his Irish rose, and sang the Rose of Traleeto her at their wedding. I'm not that nervous, because I will be surrounded by friends and family."