Mary Hannigan: Camogie final highlights remarkable stories

Mags D’Arcy has one brother who’s an actor, another who’s a musician, and when they see her limping about the place as she recovers from surgery, their reaction is: “What is she like?” For all the vagaries of their chosen pursuits, they at least, one would assume, don’t generally hobble home after engaging in them.

“They think it’s just a game,” she sighed, “but when you’re in that environment you’re part of a religion, and when you’re part of a religion you get up every day and worship it.”

The problem is, D’Arcy’s religion brought her to her knees not through prayer but through agonising pain. So, after winning four All-Ireland camogie medals with Wexford, she reckoned it was time to have her aching hip seen to. The scan showed “seven or eight things that were wrong, torn cartilage, an almost disconnected socket” . . . and on the list went, until the knees of those listening buckled.

One of the contributors to RTÉ's superb Páirc Life, presented by Jacqui Hurley, D'Arcy's zeal for the one true faith that is camogie was a joy.

And the neglect that the non-camogie parts of her life might have endured. “You lose focus on the bigger picture, all your energy is on winning an All-Ireland, everything on the side is just irrelevant,” she said. “That’s worrying. I have to think about what I’m going to do with my life after playing.”

So, is Mags D’Arcy moving on, bidding adieu to camogie? Well . . . “There’s a void in my life at the moment,” she said, as we watched her stretch her operated-on-hip in sundry directions in the gym, her determination to fill that void by getting healthy again and returning to intercounty duty a sight to behold. Her apartment, she said, is jammed with photos of her and her team-mates winning All-Irelands. “I see them every morning when I get out of bed, they give me the kick I need to get on with the day.”

Written off

Having watched that, then, it gave you some appreciation of the emotions that ran so freely after Cork won yesterday’s All-Ireland final. As Amy O’Connor put it, “we were written off fierce at the start of the year”, the reigning champions having to do some serious rebuilding after losing 13 of their 2014 panel.

Come full-time, having beaten Galway? "They're equal now with Dublin on 26 All-Ireland titles," said Therese O'Callaghan moments after the final whistle blew. "The drive could be on for 27." Marty Morrissey thought that was a bit previous, that Cork should be allowed a minute or two to enjoy their 26th. With this lot, though, you sensed their dressing-room chat with manager Paudie Murray went something like: "26 is history! Let's drive for 27!"

But the post-match chats with captain Ashling Thompson and Gemma O’Connor were as memorable as the game.

"Sorry, I'm a small bit concussed," Thompson had said as she tried to deliver her speech through the blurry pain. After, she spoke with Joanne Cantwell. "Where does that drive and heart come from," she was asked.

“We’ve just gone through so many hard times in the past two years, we’ve had so many ups and downs, personally ... you get these chances maybe once, you have to take them as they come. That’s what life is all about, giving it everything. It could be your last day, you never know.”

Depression

There spoke a young woman who has battled with depression, and who lost the closest of friends through suicide. She said before that if it wasn’t for camogie, she might not still be around.

For Thompson too, it’s way more than a game. And Gemma O’Connor.

This was her 11th All-Ireland final appearance, her seventh winner’s medal, but none meant more. “Emotions can be your friend or your enemy,” she said, explaining that she was doing it all for her beloved mother who is battling a serious illness.

For O’Connor too, it’s way more than a game.

Remarkable women, remarkable stories. And truly remarkable achievements.