The oldest derby in the game keeps on giving

There is nothing new under the sun as Cavan and Monaghan go at it again.

A football match which was old a century ago; a book with 100 chapters and as many twists and turns. The faces change but the colours, the accents, even the names remain the same.

The Drumlin Clasico goes ahead on Saturday. If you’re nostalgic, if you tend to cling to the past when the present offers no comfort, this is the balm you want.

When Cavan and Monaghan met in the first final in 1888, Maghera MacFinns and Inniskeen Grattans represented the counties. The Bishops of Kilmore and Clogher were said to be antagonistic to organised games so the replay – the first game had finished 0-2 apiece - was played in Bryanstown, near Drogheda, where Bishop Nulty of Meath was a bit warmer towards the whole caper.

Inniskeen were delayed getting to the replay, with the result that an over-enthusiastic Cavanman released a carrier pigeon to carry the word home that Cavan had been declared the victors. The bird had flown out before the ball was thrown in; Monaghan duly won and the bonfires were in vain.

The rivalry was set in stone then and perseveres. Through war and disease, pestilence, wet Springs and bad mart prices, Cavan and Monaghan in the Ulster Championship has endured.

A snapshot from the family album? Here are a few, covering a couple of years.

The Great War was at its height when Monaghan beat Cavan in Cootehill on July 1, 1917, 3-1 to 0-2.

“The banning of motor cars for pleasure purposes is a serious handicap but their place was taken by all possible modes of conveyance. Rickety cars which had been out of action for years and all other class of vehicles down to the humble asses’ cart were to be seen on every road leading to the battle ground,” reported this newspaper.

“There were numerous breakdowns, shaky shoeings required constant attention and the excessive heat increased this class of trouble… The big end of the crowd was the cycling section.”

The wheel seems to have come full circle since. Back then, football was a hobby, a diversion from real life. Over the decades, it grew more and more serious and the process has accelerated in recent years to the point where many young men just can’t hack the commitment for any more than a few years.

After that, they want their life back again – that is, unless they have been lucky enough to have enjoyed success, in which case football opens rather than closes doors. So, the football divide is real and it’s self-perpetuating.

To have a chance of winning a major trophy, all your players must commit. For all your players to commit, you must have a chance of winning a major trophy.

Monaghan managed to hold on to theirs long enough to make the breakthrough and now, the culture around their panel is that everyone sticks at it. So, the chances of winning are greater – and when the chances of winning are greater, more players hang around or aspire to be in that dressing-room. The prophecy is self-fulfilling and the top sides have pulled the ladder up behind them.

Logic says no-one can gatecrash their party; in this brave new world, though, all bets are off. On any given day, a team could be down a dozen or more of their panel due to Covid. Competitions have been delayed by months. Games are being played before empty terraces.

So this is the new normal? Try again. There is nothing new under the sun.

In 1918, Cavan were smarting, having lost to Monaghan the year before in that game in Cootehill.

But Spanish Flu was raging across the world; at home, GAA matches themselves were being outlawed by the police. The world burned.

Across four deadly waves, that pandemic would infect around 800,000 in Ireland, 23,000 of them fatally. It killed indiscriminately, with a quarter of the deaths coming among those in the 25-35 age bracket.

The GAA faced it and the other threats down, all in one crazy year.

Back then, matches were played in bespoke venues – Wattlebridge, on the banks of the Finn, was one that has now been a farmer’s field for the longest time, welcoming more anglers than footballers. Bundoran and Camlough also staged games; Belturbet hosted the Ulster final.

The 1918 season, like the current one, was a drawn out affair. The Ulster Championship began in Belfast on April 28. It ended in Rory O’Moore’s country, with Cavan beating Antrim by 3-2 to 0-0, on September 15.

“What with war on, the conscription menace and election trouble,” noted The Anglo-Celt, “… in these vexatious times, people are inclined to overlook sporting events – a big mistake – and it is therefore with pleasure we point out one bright spot for Sunday – Belturbet – where Cavan and Fermanagh meet.”

Before the Ulster semi-final in Cootehill, the match was “proclaimed an illegal assembly” by the police who, The Freeman’s Journal reported, “intimated that forcible methods would be used if the match was persisted in”.

The 3,000 spectators marched into town where the local parish priest, Fr O’Connell, addressed them, “exhorting self-restraint and to return home quietly”.

With similar events having occurred in Kildare and Galway, the GAA found themselves backed on to the ropes. Within a fortnight, they issued a strict directive that under no circumstances were permits to be applied for. The authorities backed down.

It was a time like no other. When the All-Ireland semi-final, which Cavan would lose to Louth, came around on October 20, again in Belturbet, the ‘Black Flu’ was growing rampant. People reckoned it came from the poisonous gases unleashed on the battlefields of France.

It turned the flesh dark and struck with deadly speed. The Celt reported on it widely; for example, the epidemic was reported to be “raging in Killeshandra”, where whole families were affected and a retreat at St Brigid’s Church had to be cancelled. There had been several deaths.

Soon, schools were closed and by mid-November, all matches were off. The All-Ireland final wouldn’t take place until the following February. A Tipperary player, Davey Tobin, scorer of two goals in the semi-final, had the bug and was too ill to line out; his side lost by a point to Wexford.

That summer, 1919, Cavan coasted to another Ulster title but with Monaghan losing in the first round to Armagh, it would be another year before they got their shot at revenge against the Oriel men. Cavan longed to set the record straight, bragging rights having resided across the county boundary for three long years.

So, to 1920, 100 years ago. The headline on the article here said it all: “The Old Rivals”.

“All the old traditions, all the old memories of the many famous battles between Cavan and Monaghan on the football field are being revived by the meeting of these great rivals at Clones tomorrow in the Ulster Championship.

“So far this season, Cavan have played one match, last week against Roscommon, and although beaten, their supporters are confident of their chances against the Farney men.”

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Same build-up, same venue, same teams. Cavan won it that day, by two points. Let’s hope history repeats itself one more time.