Niall Morgan's All-Ireland final diary: 'I felt for some of the Mayo lads... but it was Tyrone's day'

This is almost perfect timing for me on a school morning as it means I have to get out of bed rather than hitting the snooze button.

Críostaí is now 20 months old and is good on his feet, so he usually wrecks about downstairs with me as I am making breakfast.

What was on the menu the day before an All-Ireland final? A bowl of Coco Pops and a glass of orange juice. Some mornings if he wakens me earlier I might make some bacon or boil eggs but the majority of the time now it is toast and banana or a bowl of cereal. Probably not ideal, but I eat a lot throughout the day.

I leave for school at around 8:10 each morning with the 15-minute journey having me in school on time before the children start arriving at 8:30.

On my way to school, I could feel the nerves in my stomach bubbling — ‘here we go’ I thought to myself.

The school is decorated with bunting, flags, banners from the school and the club as well as posters drawn by the children stuck around all the classroom windows (except for mine).

As I walked through the front door, I was met by our principal Mrs McAlinden, who greets everyone at the door every morning, and also a child from my class worrying after forgetting her homework. ‘Don’t worry,’ says the principal, ‘there will be no homework marked or tests today in Mr Morgan’s class’.

I don’t know who was happier — the child or me!

It was ‘Tyrone day’ in school so the kids were all decked out in their red and white which was pretty special for me as we weren’t back to school before the final in 2018.

There was a great buzz of excitement in the air all week and our other Primary 6 teacher Mrs Dunne even wrote a song for the team which the children in our classes sang as a surprise for me — it also ended up on the news and radio.

It went to the tune of ‘I’ll tell my Ma’ and the chorus went ‘The streets will be filled with red and white; Sam will be back in Tyrone tonight. All-Ireland Champions 1, 2, 3, They’ll bring that trophy home with glee.’

I am a really nervous kind of person, which some people may find hard to believe due to my on-field persona, so it was great when I got to the classroom and remembered that all the desks remained pushed aside due to indoor PE the day before.

That meant our morning consisted of more indoor PE and yoga, which I took part in to help settle my head a little and get my body loosened out from training the night before.

I left school at 12:30 to head home and get my things before heading to meet the bus.

On the road home from school, I stopped at the shop to get some lunch — a BBQ chicken baguette with some peppers and cheese.

I hold my hands up, it’s not ideal preparation for some, but I was that nervous I needed something really tasty. Sometimes those pregame meals can be very bland.

When I got home my mum, Pauline, and dad, Martin, were there to wish me well. It’s become a tradition here before a game. I ate my lunch with Ciara, rechecked my bags that I had packed on Wednesday night and then Ciara, Críostaí, and Maisie left me to meet the bus on Cookstown main street.

There is nothing unusual in my bag, but I will check it about five times, so I don’t forget anything. Boots x2 pairs, Gloves x2 pairs, socks x2 pairs, shorts, under shorts x2, under top in case it is cold, and a quarter zip.

I always take the pitch in a warm-up top regardless of the temperature. It means that when I take it off, I know that it is game time!

On the way down to the hotel there was a great atmosphere on the two buses for the team and backroom members.

Everyone was seated individually throughout the buses with a spare seat next to us. I was in a different seat to the last day, but I didn’t care — my superstitious past is long gone however the usual backseat gang had taken up their positions — my two clubmates Darren McCurry and Conn being two of them.

Bus journeys for me are about chatting and having the craic. I used to listen to music or read but I realised how much I was missing out on and put that to the side a few seasons ago.

The nerves from earlier were still there but now I was getting excited as well. Everyone seemed to be in top form, and I was daring to dream.

Joe McMahon let on he was at the back of the bus and Cathal McShane was at the front. It got a small rise from Cathal before everyone returned to their pre-assigned seat.

There are never any games or cards on the bus, just music, slagging, and fantasy football talk. It probably seems like another world to the management.

When we got to Dunboyne, we had our itinerary sent out to the group. I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of meetings we were going to have. Brian and Feargal would always have a few individual words here and there and that by far outweighed any long meetings.

After our food we had our one and only meeting outlining our responsibilities on the pitch and re-examining the Mayo team. After the meeting and to try relax the team down a little we had a video with a voiceover poem. None of the lads knew what was coming, apart from me.

I enjoy writing poems and Peter Donnelly had told me about a team he was with who had a player who wrote poems and songs to remember what they had been through and would break them out after Championship games. I had penned a poem about our season then added some images (that may or may not have been photoshopped) and videos over a montage reflecting the season.

The poem’s second last verse referenced the noughties and had ‘that’ clip of the Tyrone men swarming Kerry in the 2003 semi-final. The final verse went, ‘Now go forth all you Tyrone boys, for this is where dreams come true. Feargal and Brian have set the tone, now it’s up to me and you.’ The management team had done all they could at this stage really. They had given us all the tools we needed for the task ahead. It was in our hands to complete the mission.

After seeing the physio, having some more food and a bit of storytelling, I headed off to bed.

We all had our own rooms so there were no distractions and it had been a long enough day with plenty going on. My phone hadn’t stopped with well wishes over the last couple of days which I appreciated a lot.

My phone usage is through the roof, and it is something that I have tried to cut back on and will be trying harder to do now that I will have more time at home. The only policy around phones in our camp is that we aren’t allowed them at the dinner table. Apart from that it is do what makes you comfortable.

Some lads don’t get caught up in that kind of thing but I enjoy the pride that it brings to others having me represent my county in an All-Ireland final. I replied to everyone (I think) and got off to sleep.

Saturday, September 11

I woke at the usual 6:30am but it was nice to go back to sleep for a couple of hours. Eventually, I headed down to breakfast around 9:45 but the nerves were now taking their toll and I didn’t get eating much, just bacon on a bagel and orange juice.

I usually see the physio again on match morning, but I didn’t feel like I needed to, this was as good as I had felt in a long time. I felt that good that I was starting to doubt if I was taking everything serious enough.

I don’t read newspapers really at all as I found myself getting angry at some who write articles simply for a reaction. It was draining and a complete distraction, so I have stopped looking at everything.

However, a man who I have a lot of respect for sent me an article written by a man who I have little respect for. It had added a little to the self-doubt but this man has beat me with a stick for a long time and it made me so want to prove him wrong.

A few of the lads got together for a coffee and we were approached by a lady wishing us well and asking if we were players. ‘No,’ replied Petey Harte with a mischievous grin, ‘we are the physio team’.

After a short kickout meeting I headed back to the room and lay about again for a little while before taking a warm bath.

This is something I done before the semi-final and felt that it made me feel a lot looser and almost warmed up already. We had a last meeting before leaving for Croke Park to arrive around 3:15pm.

The bus journey into Croke Park is absolutely amazing. Seeing the colours and the fans cheering (or booing) as you pass is mesmerising. But for me, it was also getting closer to 3pm, and Saturday 11th September 2021, 3pm was CR7 time! I got a stream on my phone to see Ronaldo make his second debut for United and was hoping that the day would only get better.

As we got closer to the ground though I put my phone away and soaked in the atmosphere trying to spot club mates or faces I knew as we passed the crowds of people in the streets.

In Croke Park I snuggled into my usual seat, put up my hood and put the game back on until Brian Dooher approached to give me some individual instructions. That was the end of the phone. Ronaldo’s goals would have to wait.

I took a quick walk on the pitch and spotted where my wife and kids were sitting in the Hogan Stand (exactly where Ciara had wanted to be).

Ciara helps me to sort out my tickets for games to relieve some pressure and give me one less job, but I still remembered the sections the tickets had been for. I waved and smiled, they waved back, and I headed back to the dressing room with a crazy mixture of nerves and excitement running through my body, thinking ‘just throw the ball up Joe!’ Our team is very tight knit, and everyone was wishing each other well. I don’t believe in luck so I always refuse to use that term and instead like to get good eye contact, a firm handshake and say a few words which will differ depending on the individual.

We did our last bit of preparation before huddling up and hearing the last words from the many leaders in our camp. No war cries, shouting or screaming —just processes to remember that would help to take us through the game.

As we took the pitch there was a fairly loud shout from the crowd but when Mayo took the field I thought that our fans were shouting for them too. The roar was deafening and no doubt a credit to those in the crowd who were making so much noise.

The parade was awesome. I love walking around and looking into the crowd. Seeing the flags waving and the jubilant faces of people of all ages shouting for the players as they walk is a sight to behold. I always look around me and soak it all in because you never know if you will ever get the opportunity again.

Once the ball was thrown in my nerves straight away were gone — that’s how it goes with me — and all I had to do now was focus on the ball every time it came near me.

The first kick out was a disaster; blown up for a hop ball.

Suddenly memories of the 2018 final were flooding back to me. With 18 minutes played in that game, I hit a bad kick out which led to the penalty that started to swing the game to Dublin and they never looked back.

But I had my lessons learned from that and wouldn’t let the same thing happen again. I went on to probably have one of my better games for Tyrone.

The first free kick going over the bar was relief, the second wasn’t struck well but also went over, and by the third one I knew that not only was the kick going over, but the game was over too!

Since the Kerry game, there was only one thought that was consistently in my head. It was there in 2018 as well. Other thoughts came and went, but this one stayed.

When I was a young lad, around 10, Tyrone were beat in an All-Ireland series game. It may have been Derry in the quarter final in 2001.

We were on a family holiday in The Great Northern Hotel in Bundoran and watched the game on a big screen. After the game my dad was absolutely gutted which I didn’t really understand.

To me it wasn’t Edendork, so was it really that important? To cheer him up as we sat on a seat in the hallway outside the function room I said, ‘I promise that someday I will win an All-Ireland for you.’ He smiled and everything was ok again.

With 75 and a half minutes on the clock, and two goals the difference, I hit a kickout to Conor Meyler on the right wing just outside the 45.

Paudy Hampsey had come short as an option and continued his run in beside me. I put my arm around his shoulder and said, ‘it’s over lad, we have finally done it.’ When the final whistle blew it was absolute relief. I went into the foetal position and started to fill with tears. When I got up there were embraces all over for other players and I remember consoling with a few of the Mayo team.

In that moment of pure elation, I felt for some of them who have soldiered for so long and sacrificed so much. But this was our day, Tyrone’s day.

I remembered my parents were in 304 and ran to find them. My family had forced their way to the front. Mum, Dad, Róise, Brídín, and her husband Sam (my other sister Cara teaches in Qatar so couldn’t get home). We hugged, we cried, I looked at my dad and said, ‘Remember the promise I made you in The Great Northern, I’ve finally done it!’ I then made the dart across to section 330 in the Hogan stand, grasping hold of team mates along the way and got Críostaí from my brother in law Mark as Ciara was holding Maisie. I also took Mark’s son Shea on to the pitch with us.

I spent the next 10 minutes running after Críostaí and even missed most of Paudy’s speech. To see my son running around on the hallowed turf of Croke Park though was worth missing everything for.

I went up the steps at the back of the queue and lifted Sam with Críostaí in my arms along with Petey and his daughter, Ava. After some more running after the wee man, I made my way back to 330 to return the two boys.

This was the first time I got to embrace Ciara after the final whistle. Behind every great man there is a great woman. I may not be the greatest man, but I am absolutely blessed to have a wife who puts up with me being out of the house so much. If not with Tyrone then Edendork or on the golf course.

The sacrifices made by families, wives, girlfriends, children of county players are incredible. They should all get their own Celtic Cross for what they do.

When I got into the changing room the music was pumping and everyone was so happy. There were all sorts of kinds from head pumping stuff to ‘I Want It That Way’ by The Backstreet Boys.

A few Irish songs got a rendition as well and our camera man — and my uncle — Paddy Gervin got most of it on video so it will be great to watch back and relive the experience.

All I wanted to do was soak this feeling in, bottle it up and keep it for the next time I’m wondering if the sacrifices are worth it. After a fair amount of celebrating and a few team pictures we started to slowly get changed and headed for the bus to Armagh City Hotel.

The joyous atmosphere continued right up the road and the music continued to pump. We arrived to a great reception at the hotel and went straight to our rooms to change into our clothes for the banquet — a nice pair of chinos, white shirt, and a navy blazer.

Our food wasn’t served until after 1am and at that stage most lads weren’t too interested in eating. Two Degrees were playing in the bar area where the players and families danced and sang along until late. I headed to bed around 4am and looked forward to another day of celebrations on Sunday.

Sunday, September 12

No one really knew what the plan was for the Sunday and that general theme continued throughout the week with lads playing it as they went. Just enjoying basking in the glory that had finally arrived.

We left Armagh to head to Healy Park for our big homecoming with the bus jammed basically from the middle back and everyone still in full flow.

Our resident DJ Ronan O’Neill was on the tunes again and had the party going strong.

There were people lining the streets as we went through Aughnacloy and at the Ballygawley roundabout which was pretty cool.

Driving into Omagh was just like driving into a home Ulster Championship game except half the team would not have been in any shape to play.

We took to the pitch to a rapturous applause and proceeded to do a lap of honour — then the gates opened, and the pitch was filled.

Our team is quite a humble group, and we took into signing autographs and taking pictures for all that asked until each player was taken off the pitch one by one by stewards.

Then the captain made the call. if we are going to Omagh (West Tyrone) then we are going to Coalisland (East Tyrone). The bus passed through Edendork on route which was lined outside the pitch by supporters. A very special moment for myself, Darren and Conn. As we approached Coalisland we could see the crowd, the place was absolutely rocking — ‘Welcome to the East, lads’.

There is a real parochial side to East Tyrone. So many clubs are within a close proximity to each other but when it comes to supporting the Red Hands everyone is in unison and boy, did the people show it.

The players sang and danced on the stage and the crowd bounced and shouted back. This was absolutely mental and unbelievable at the same time!

We went on to a few local bars after this and celebrated long into the night, into Monday, Tuesday, and some men maybe even lasted to Wednesday.

From Omagh social club to Gervin’s Bar, Coalisland on to Tally’s, Galbally and finally The Rusty Keg, Pomeroy on Sunday.

Into the Moy for Auction Rooms and Tomney’s on Monday. Tuesday was The Coach Inn, Omagh and onto Mulligan’s in Cookstown — some lads even took a bus to Belfast late in the night!

For me, Monday was nuts. I was on BBC Radio Ulster at 8am (after the 6:30am morning feed), Off The Ball at 9am, BBC Sportsround Extra at 1 and then I met Conor Meyler to do the GAA Social Podcast with Thomas Niblock and Oisin McConville at 3pm.

Finally, after all that, I headed to meet the lads in Moy. I didn’t even need a drink — the place was bouncing, and the craic was unreal.

Now the club season looms large, and we will return to our own team’s colours again before getting back at it next season and trying to do it all over again.